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

I can tear down angels from the sky and make Mona Lisa cry;


Posted on March 20, 2022 by Risque
West


Isolt was like a bird that had been gifted wings to fly and yet somehow managed to be wounded and found her way crashing into Risque's window like she could not avoid her orbit. How interesting it was that they all somehow managed to come back. That was all Risque saw when she peered down upon her progeny on bended knee, the woman, despite her best attempts at remain stoic was holding onto whatever threads that kept her together. How many years in the making had it taken for her to end up at her door step? It almost felt a little too late. The vampire queen's interest was a fickle thing even though there were few beings that remained a constant in an otherwise transitory world.

Risque's pale eyes bore down with the judgement of both judge, jury, and executioner, it would be too simple to end her here. To fitting to finish what she had started in a lapse of judgement all those years ago. Yet, there was something that appeased her enough to enjoy watching the woman crawl her way back with nothing but her spoiled opportunities. The youth were always so entitled. Always thought the world owed them something. A cold apathy settled upon the feline queen's features as Isolt began her speech after her own prompting to speak. That desire to seek out vengeance, like a whiff of blood on a rogue breeze. Yet that didn't seem to matter at that very moment.

"A daughter? Impossible." She hissed, each word accented with her mother tongue. She had not seen Isolt's supposed miracle baby with her own eyes to truly believe it.. but oh, she had heard all about it.

"Vampires do not procreate once we have transcended. Especially not with a mate that has long since died. Unless what my little birdie told me was true. Were those witches not already slain?" Surely that was not spread misinformation?

She heard the conviction that began to build within Isolt's once brittle voice, slowly gaining momentum as she regained a semblance of confidence as she pleaded her case. The desire to seek vengeance was an emotion the feline queen had known herself and yet this grief that surrounded the other woman was like a putrid, thick smoke.... Suffocating as it encased her. Risque watched as that grief choke her, hardly understanding it. The few things the she-devil cared about were so selective and even fewer.

How she could see that she was so terribly young. So painfully foolish. It would be far too simple to prey upon. But she could see that burning spark within her, could sense it within Isolt's fury, the only tether that appeared to keep the crimson haired vampire whole. While Isolt believed her words to be profound, perhaps moving in some way, Risque couldn't even feign to care. Leaning against her heavy, sturdy wooded desk, arms splayed on either side of her, offering the girl a blank, fathomless stare. Isolt cried out her desire for vengeance for her suffering. She did not know suffering.

"How do you plan to make them pay, Isolt?" Risque's sharpened gaze remained upon her as she inquired simply, her voice almost soft as velvet and yet waited for her long enough to speak. How Isolt could have been so much more. Why had she allowed those witches to gain power over her? How did she become pregnant? Was the child even hers? Was it even her mate's child? Or was something implanted within her dead womb to resemble the two? How did it even thrive enough to take root when their bodies were very much not intended to carry life? There were far too many holes. Far too many blind spots that have been missed. It left Risque feeling less than impressed. "How can you be so sure that what was placed in your womb was even yours?" Those heartless words fell like razor blades and rose petals from her mouth.

What did she plan to do? To go on a blind mission of vengeance, a witch hunt with an arsenal of one?


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