West

The western part of the city is often home to the poorer residents. Here there is a grunginess that permeates the town from the graffiti on the once cleaned brick buildings to the broken and unmaintained architecture. Crime runs high within the western half of town, making it the home of supernatural gangs of illicit activities. Such activities are rarely reported, however, and most residents are distrustful of individual's of authorities, and often let the powerful supernatural beings sort things out amongst themselves. Be careful wandering the Western streets after the sun falls.

What You'll Find Here

Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn

Step up to the butcher's block;


Posted on October 27, 2018 by Risque
West

Out go the lights and bump goes the night

And with your fear comes my delight


Risque heard the knocking on her office door and the sound alone irritated her. She had a body sprawled out upon her desk, puncture marks dotted his clammy flesh. The muscular brunette male spasmed, barely alive, she liked them pretty, she was truly a vain creature after all. They suffered the effects of her venom that now flowed through him currently.

"Enter." A singular word pierced the veil of silence, a commanded, irked that she has been disturbed. Blood painted her lips, a thin dribble trickling down the side of her chin in an almost delicate fashion. Blood splattered upon the floor, her desk, the dark little dress she wore. Her feast of a man whimpered as if his dying words were a cry for help, his eyes unseeing, lost within the horrors that torment him. His darkest fears coiling around him. She stood and that movement was terribly feline and liquid, straightening the fabric of that leather dress she wore, at least the blood would come out easier than if it were fabric. That leather looked like it was practically poured on that sensual body of hers, covering enough but leaving a lot of her pale flesh exposed. That skin seemed to carry an ethereal glow of its own, especially against that dark leather. She was the epitome of a luring siren, designed to draw you in and succumb and before you realized it, it was too late.


She waited for that door to open, a scent wafted through. Cobain. A surprise drop in that she had not anticipated. How long had it been, years? Longer? Perhaps she should have punished him for not sending word of his arrival. Malice floods her as the gears within her head began to churn. "Oh, look what the cat dragged in.." That nonchalance in her tone and yet there was something, a glint in her pale eyes, wicked and depthless. Such an obscure look that was easy to miss, even beneath that soul devouring stare. "If I didn't know any better, I would have pronounced you dead." Her voice is like smooth molten poisoned honey dripping on the most vulnerable parts. Dead to me. She didn't say those cruel words because she didn't need to. It was the closest to intrigue she could muster, her slender pale hand rested on the blood slick desk that possessed her last meal. She dragged her silver taloned finger along that desk waiting for him to come to her.

Something akin to some sadistic boredom curiosity gleamed with in her multifaced cold, hypnotic gemstone eyes, an inkling of her power trickling out to a select few. Summoning them as if only to arouse tension. She was convinced he wouldn't see them coming. If only he had had noticed he was slowly became surrounded cats looming in the shadows, a tiger, a lion, and leopard slowly, but quietly drawing closer and closer, hunting prowling their prey, as well as the cats in her office that twitched their tails in irritation from that power that they succumbed to. They lingered all around, large felines and small as well as anything in between but then again that was nothing new. Felines were drawn to the siren, into her black hole and they were the debris floating to close.

Her eyes rove over her youthful progeny languidly, as if looking for any defects or deviations in his appearance or feel of him. Familiar, and seemingly unchanged. Good. Then he would have no excuse to have not brought her something. A gift of servitude for that long leash she allowed him.

"You are empty handed." She seemed disappointed, expecting the young delinquent to have brought her something worthwhile. Surely, he knew better. Had it really been that long? Time moved in strange and distorted ways. The older she got, the faster time seemed to move. Not that it really mattered when immortality flooded through the feline queen's veins.

Come to me, her crystalline hypnotic blue eyes seem to say.

Risque

just face the moon and put your death mask on

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