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 Posted: Thu Apr 01, 2021 9:56 pm
The Market District, area of New Houston that supports the ever-growing economy of the entire surviving region of North America. The Market supports of kinds of markets and shoppes which allow for anyone to find whatever they desire, including merchandise for nonhumans and humans alike.
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2026 2:37 am
Roxy Vane stepped out from the garage, wiping her hands on a rag. She had a few sparks of grease on her coveralls and a smudge on her right cheek. Her blonde hair had a bright red streak on either side and her eyes matched that red streak. Her scent was that of a dhampir, a day-walking vampire, basically. She was slim, but still beautiful. Especially when she smiled. She walked over to the counter and glanced at the pouches then back to the woman in front of her, "You must be an old one to be mentioning Western styles of bikes. Here, we go by what works and what's for suckers. Considering what you're willing to pay, I'll make sure you get something nice," she said with a wink before heading into the back. She knew her scent tended to attract other vampires. On top of that, shifters found her scent acted like candy. Luckily, everyone knew to watch their manners in her shop. She'd inherited it from her father. This place had been in her family since before the disaster. Her grandfather had discovered that their skills did very well for nonhumans, so they built special motorcycles that accommodated other races. It helped that her family had a special skill that they kept hidden. They had a Sniffer back in the family tree. That allowed them to properly identify people by their races, and allowed them to put them on the correct bike. Roxy identified the right bike and motioned for one of the mechanics to push it out front and moved back to the customer, "Properly balanced for your reactions, extra power and power economy to complement your own speed, and a beautiful paint job to compliment your own superior looks," she said with a half grin. She sounded cocky, but it was deserved in her case. She knew her skills, she knew her product, she knew her customers, and she knew her artistry. She leaned a shoulder against the doorway and crossed her arms, "Too bad the WereBears switched from bikes to horses. They really knew their stuff. Not to mention the work needed to accommodate the extra weight," she said in a tone that was a mix of admiration and disappointment.
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Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2026 4:55 pm
  I Once Fell Upon A Tibetan Monk. I Had Fangs And Unliving Power; He Had Words.... ______________________________________________________________________ Tzimisce - Philosopher - Musician
Elizabetta stood there–waiting–with the items she’d collected from her stash outside the city. Her usual black running bag on her shoulder, a body bag, and a black duffel bag. The latter two of which sat at her feet.
From among the myriad sights and smells that Elizabetta was processing into memory emerged a single woman who seemed to walk forward with purposeful authority. The head mechanic or shop owner perhaps. Maybe even both. Eyes like bloodstones and crimson highlights poured down each side of her surprisingly well-maintained hair. Then again it was harder to find ugly in this city than it was to find attractive. Almost like the old silicon valley. Hah…old. How amusing to think of the world of men in such past tense.
But her scent…now that was interesting. The traits of vampyres were nothing but familiar to Elizabetta. But Roxy’s scent also held traces of sparrows, morning dew, and…Sol. Daylight. A vampyre who could walk beneath the sun??? For a few moment’s Elizabetta’s mind raced with possibility. Imagining the ease with which she could take this woman–or someone of similar physiology–and remove their skin. Use it as a base composite and reshape it’s molecular structure until she figured out exactly what kept the sun at bay. All could be unraveled through science and study…but she was new to the city.
One step at a time.
Elizabetta’s mind was pulled back to reality when the woman spoke to her. While the bits of Roxy’s scent that touched on Daylight were intriguing to Elizabetta…that was where the attraction ended. Roxy–like most she had discovered here thus far–was too…happy. She was at peace here. Much like the rest of the monsters who roamed this city. Content with their lives. Content with the loved ones they had hanging from their arms. Content with the order of things and content with knowing that they found a place to settle down. Call home. Good for them.
But the world remains. This city? This place? It was but one. The world was out there. Now more than ever the opportunity to seize land and make it your own was actualized. It was a real prospect. So Elizabetta needed more information. This city had one benefit she could not ignore; and that was the fact that it was swarmed with all kinds of denizens. From this place she could learn all she needed to about most of the creatures she may encounter during conquest.
She could rebuild the Tzimisce name–no, not Tzimisce. Serebryakov. A new Clan. A new House. A new Power. “If you say so.” Elizabetta said with a stolid smile. She wouldn’t admit to her age. Just as she had yet to even utter her name within the borders of this place.
The incident regarding the monastery had only doubled the intensity of that cautious nature of hers. It had also given her the first bit of direction she’d had since she arrived. See the policing body of this city had not only spied on her without her consent. But they’d also forced her to relocate. They’d even shared information–or at the very least someone had acquired the information after she’d been spotted at the monastery. Otherwise that butler–Garus–wouldn’t have had whatever sort of intelligence he’d been given in that dossier of his. This all led Elizabetta to one undeniable conclusion; the police force in this city?
Has now made an ancient horror into a very real Enemy.
But patience…patience was critical. Patience was key. Deception. Misdirection. Lies and subterfuge. These were the tools of any true vampyre. Playing her cards close to her chest was the best she could do until she figured out a plan of attack. Until she figured out who she could trust and who she couldn’t. Going around asking people who the police didn’t like was a surefire way to get the police to increase their scrutiny of you. Patience.
Her eyes trailed over the people of the room as she followed behind Roxy. Pulling along with her both the bodybag and the black duffel she’d brought with her from overseas. Appreciating the different vehicles. Roxy herself. An excellent if not attractive figure. Elizabetta did not deal in mutually-respectful relationships however. That was a human practise. Elizabetta dealt only in the relationships of unquestionable and unwavering fealty. Those in whom she knew she could trust either because they were too loyal or too afraid to ever betray her. To be obsessed with either her or her vision; for they were one and the same.
“I have enough.” Her reply to Roxy’s wink about what Elizabetta was willing to pay. More vague answers. She’d have to tack on something else. Too many vague answers and one would seem deliberately coy. The study of psychology is a must as a creature of the night. “I always tip well for good service.” She said with a smirk to match Roxy’s wink. There. A little camaraderie to soften her cautious nature.
They arrived upon the area wherein Roxy kept the bike in question; and Elizabetta set both body bag as well as the black duffel onto the ground in one hand. Elizabetta stood up once more; and offered the black running bag she’d kept over her shoulder. “Hold this. Please.” Roxy obliged her; and Elizabetta opened the bag to dig inside. She removed in each hand a single velvet pouch; and then took the running bag back from Roxy.
She set the two pouches into Roxy’s open hands; and the mechanic would open it to reveal a couple million worth in diamonds. Even considering the work required to sell them…the mechanic had come out several times ahead of service provided. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something along the lines of ‘this is too much’ or ‘I can’t accept this.’
Elizabetta raised one hand to stop her. “Take it. Consider it an extra service. Don’t ask me about anything. No questions; no demands…and I need a gas can.” Elizabetta raised her brow in a way that made her face say, ‘Got it?’ Roxy knew the deal. She had plenty of customers–undoubtedly–who preferred their privacy. She flicked her chin towards the corner of the room; and Elizabetta glanced over to see an empty gas can waiting. She grabbed it, went to the bike and–to Roxy’s curious amusement–emptied every drop of gas from the vehicle. Even going so far as to grab a rubber tube and siphon out the rest into the can via the old-school spitting method.
When finished? Elizabetta turned back around. She grasped the body bag’s handle, and dragged it until it was almost flush next to the bike. She unzipped the container; and Roxy would lay eyes on the preserved remains of two creatures. One were the pristine white preserved bones of the Eldest vampyre Elizabetta to ever have the misfortune of wandering into Elizabetta’s old cave network back in Vietnam.
The second item was a perfectly-preserved creature she’d picked up while flying over SouthEast Asia–before she’d crossed the ocean in search of new civilization. Yes. A 10-foot long Komodo Dragon with it’s tail curled up under it’s body. It’s gray lifeless eyes held a polished marble shine; and Elizabetta reached in to grasp it’s tail. She wrenched it free of the creature with a sick fleshy tear, and set the tail onto the floor. She carried the rest of the Komodo over to the bike; and set it down upon the seat, Draping it sideways over the bike like an old suit on a hanger.
She then went back to the bag; and reached inside. She gripped the base of the skeleton’s spine; and a sharp *crunch* sounded as Elizabetta broke it in her hand. She gripped the upper half of the skeleton; and brought it’s upper body over to the same location. Positioning it in an almost comically-amusing way atop the Komodo corpse. She was almost ready to begin.
Elizabetta glanced over at Roxy–who at this point was too curious to walk away–and started speaking as she crouched before the black duffel bag she had yet to open. “Horses are as much a part of civilization as vehicles are. Not to mention dhe fellowship one can find in them. Did you know–” Elizabetta started asking as she pulled from the bag a handful of–surprisingly–spider silk. Yes. The black duffel bag was crammed with roughly two-hundred and fifty pounds of spidersilk.
“--that camels have been domesticated for over 4,000 years? Amazing animal, the camel.” Elizabetta remarked idly as she carried handful after handful of spidersilk over to the bike. Throwing it onto the dragon-corpse and the vampyre bones as if she were getting all the stuff ready to make a very cool Halloween scene.
After half of the bag was emptied she zipped it back up; and then walked over to the bike. She glanced over her shoulder at Roxy…and stepped forward. She reached past Roxy–grasped the doorknob–and pulled the door slowly shut. Giving Roxy plenty of time to walk inside the room and give the two of them privacy from prying eyes. Elizabetta would draw any curtains or blinds as necessary…and then the real work would begin. Elizabetta walked over to the flesh/bones/silk…and placed her hands against a portion of each.
The bones rattled. The dragon’s dead legs began to twitch; and kick. Then they began to fuse. Pushing and smashing against each other. Piercing. Shredding. Snapping. Crunching. Have you ever held a ball of ground beef in your hand, and squeezed it? Just to hear what it sound’s like? Imagine that at ten times the volume. Imagine bones snapping and crunching within the mixture. This very same fashion of balled meat was visible to Roxy as Elizabetta raised her hands into the air.
Holding them like claws surrounding an orb in front of her. The ball of flesh, bone, and spidersilk made grotesque noises as it began to lower towards the front wheel well.
“Upon this rock…I will build my Church.”
Elizabetta’s fingers and hands began to move like a maestro comporting a symphony to musical perfection. The ball of meat crunched, slid, danced, reformed, slid, and all else across the surface of the bike. Recolouring. Condensing. The carbon elements within the flesh vastly increased to make their density/durability incredible.
Spidersilk–pound for pound–is lighter and stronger than steel. Weaving this biologically-produced compound into the weave only further increased it’s strength. Knitting it even into the molecular structure of the rubber in the tires. Elizabetta went over the bike once with this biological-cocktail; and held the small orb that remained above her hand. Her other palm reached towards the bodybag; and the lower-half of the skeleton came flying towards her.
She lifted it up towards the orb. It sounded like a box of woodchips being dropped down a flight of stairs; the way the skeleton snapped into a thousand shards as it was being absorbed into the ball of flesh. Once again Elizabetta went back over the vehicle; and made sure to weave a strange biological/organic tube into what used to be the fuel tank of the machine. The jagged spikes which ran along it’s back and the wicked tail behind the rear wheel. It was pale white with no color. Quiet; and stilled. No fuel nor power. But only for a moment.
“Now…” Elizabetta began as she started to unbutton the bottom of her shirt. Exposing her flawless porcelain midsection. She placed her slender fingertips against her stomach; and didn’t so much as wince. Not even when the fingers began to penetrate her flesh. Not in the forceful sense of them stabbing, mind you. But in the sense that small ripples formed on the surface of her gut. To make room for her hand. Her entire hand entered her stomach; and grabbed…yes. Her stomach.
The only organ in a vampyre’s body to still live and function. The one that processed the blood. She grasped the entirety of her small stomach; and pulled it free from her body. Letting out a shuddering breath of relief as her blood-soaked hand pulled the organ from her body. She shook her head as if shaking off a bad hangover; and walked over to the bike. She knelt down; and pressed the fleshy organ against the surface of the strange tube which fed into the fuel tank. The organ melded into the tube; and the “pipe” increased in size.
Wordlessly Elizabetta reached out to the tail of the Komodo dragon. The only piece of flesh left. She pressed it against her stomach; and her flesh began to part for a second time. Absorbing the tail of the dragon; and reconstructing her organ with the new flesh her body had been supplied.
In a matter of seconds she was whole again; and returned to her former splendor. Walking over to the bike; and smiling as she swung her leg over the seat. Setting down and running her fingers along the polished chrome handlebars. “Ahhhhhh… She began in satisfaction. “My Pale Horse.” Finally she gripped the handlebars. Allowing some of her vitae to seep through her skin, and into the reinforced surface of the vehicle’s symbiotic chassis.
The entire vehicle came alive. The engine roared into existence; and blood-red light began pumping through sharp veins that glimmered through the motorcycle. The veins stretched and ran all along the bike; and it roared with a rumble that was almost bestial in nature. Was that the Komodo’s larynx fused to the exhaust/tailpipe?
She nodded for Roxy to open up the door again for her; and revved the engine just a hair. The bike pulled forward into the main hall of the shop. Even some of the other mechanics had to stand, turn, and point at the insane thing Elizabetta was riding on.
“We squared up?” Elizabetta asked Roxy. Roxy and Elizabetta would hash out any final details; and Elizabetta would collect her remaining duffel bag of spidersilk. Leaving the bodybag for Roxy. “Burn it for me. Or use it. You never know,” Elizabetta had said with a smile. Without another word Elizabetta rode her bike out of the shop; and trailed off.
Back towards Club Brimstone.
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Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2026 5:28 pm
I Once Fell Upon A Tibetan Monk. I Had Fangs And Unliving Power; He Had Words.... ______________________________________________________________________ Tzimisce - Philosopher - Musician
“Quaint.”
Elizabetta made the observation in her factual tone. Standing across the street from the entrance to the park which Delilah had helped her to navigate to. This city was packed with creatures and laws that Elizabetta did not yet fully understand. She needed a logistician. Someone who could manage her ranks and help her establish supply lines. This would be a necessary addition to her revolutionary rebirth of House Tzimisce. Now House Serebryakov. Any Tzimisce still living she discovered in future would either fall under her banner…or be swept into her wings.
Delilah mewled from Elizabetta’s shoulder. The ancient horror touched at the feline’s cheeks, and began towards the park. Crossing it’s threshold and observing the fluttering forms of pixies as they emerged from the canopy of trees. Flitting out from the shrubbery and giggling as they whispered among themselves. Dancing around her while keeping their distance. They had seen many a monster come walking through their park at both day and night. Yet the ones most perceptive among them could tell; this one was different.
This one was an Empress.
“Why come you here, blood-sucker?”
Elizabetta’s eyes lifted up to find one of the older female pixies had buzzed up to her. Wings moving like a hummingbird as she put her fists against her waists. Looking down at Elizabetta with a look of a disgruntled grandmother who’d been woken from her nap. Elizabetta smirked. She opened her mouth to speak–and the grandmother raised a finger in the air.
“Ah-tut-tut! First thing’s first. You keep that furball on a short leash, got it!? Little menace almost cost me a leg last time she was here. Now whaddaya want!?”
Interrupted. She didn’t care for that. But they were pixies. Mischievous creatures. Elizabetta could only eat so many who stood arrogant before her…for now. She would demonstrate patience. “Move aside.” The Fae could see into realms beyond. They had ancient ways and magical means that Kindred and Kine alike could not replicate. They could see the shadow of The Pale Dragon upon the sidewalk behind this woman. Feel it’s great wings unfold as it challenged any and all who would dare to impede it’s path.
Delilah mewled again.
Elizabetta’s eyes followed in the direction Delilah had imagined into Elizabetta’s mind..and saw it. The Luna Moth wings of the one she sought to speak with. Elizabetta dismissively waved away the grandmother who stood before her. She knew better than to ask Fae for anything. Even something as simple as “where is this person” can lead to problems. You cannot ask them questions, and you cannot ask them for favors. Trades and Threats of Death. These are the only way to navigate the Fae without being manipulated on their strings. She may not know of this world…but she was immensely clever. That was enough for now.
“You there.” She spoke up to Sage. Who was currently hard at work pouring over some small documents that would have easily fit in Elizabetta’s palm. “You are called Sage. Correct?” She asked. Delilah on her shoulder making it clear that any attempt to deny his identity would be wasted breath. The pixie raised his chin as he looked upon Elizabetta quizzically.
“Who wants to know?”
“The Pale Dragon.” She answered flatly. “and I have come to seek your Counsel.”
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Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2026 10:54 pm
Delilah was pleased as the pixies moved out of the way, the mere presence of her new master, maestro, enough to make the lower ranks scatter like the minor pests that they were. They didn't have a queen. They didn't even have a regeant or a princess. There was Rangya, who ran the butterflies during the day. There was Nanna, who had just been put in her place, hummingbird wings or not. Then there was Sage... He moved to hover above his tree stump, his large wings moving with a lazy grace that allowed the clear eyespots to seem to 'blink' with the movement. The wings were a beautiful soft lime green with extra long twisted tails. Those tails would usually hinder the flight of a Luna Moth even as they distracted bats and attracted females. But on Sage, they demonstrated his strength. His skin was a soft white, showed off by the simple leaf shorts he wore. And showed off was an accurate term. Despite his size, about ten inches tall, his body was ripped. He wasn't overly muscled in the way of a bodybuilder. More like an athlete that competed in multiple sports. Or a pixie that had to fly with elaborate wings... His hair was a pale green in a messy short cut that showed off his large bronze eyes that currently showed caution but no fear as they looked Elizabetta and Delilah over. He finally gestured to a tree stump next to the one he landed on. He didn't offer the seat, he offered the opportunity. Then he followed the old laws of hospitality. He gestured to a few smaller pixies that fluttered away to bring back cakes, honeyed juice, and a small glass of blood for the vampire. Only when the others left again did he speak, his voice strong but calm despite his size and his guests. Delilah jumped down from her perch to sit in Elizabetta's lap, her tail twitching lazily. "I am Sage. But I find your interest in me curious. I have no idea why someone like you would come to seek me out. It is as suspicious as it is curious," he said honestly as he crossed his arms. If he hadn't been the size of a doll, the pose would have drawn females in like nectar to insects. As it was, it was still an eye-catching sight. Sage was not an unattractive male by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, he was as beautiful as he was masculine. One couldn't miss the adoring sighs from the trees where other pixies waited out of earshot but could still admire him. Apparently, he was genuinely attractive enough to be admired from any distance. Even Nanna had to change her course at the last minute to avoid a collision with a young sapling that she nearly flew into while admiring him, and that pixie was old enough to be his great-grandmother... Delilah's eyes caught the movement of a leaf as it slowly fluttered down from a tree, her instincts making her want to play with it. But she held still under Elizabetta's hand as she was petted. She did purr, though. Sage watched the interaction with caution then looked at Elizabetta with an expression closer to assessment, "Not many would be able to tame Delilah. I've watched her. She's more powerful than she seems. She's resisted some that are almost god-level. For her to sit calm and content in your lap means that there is something about you that she sees as special, not just dangerous," he stated with caution. Delilah might not have helped that statement when she swatted at another leaf that fell too close...
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Posted: Wed Aug 19, 2026 8:45 am
I Once Fell Upon A Tibetan Monk. I Had Fangs And Unliving Power; He Had Words.... ______________________________________________________________________ Tzimisce - Philosopher - Musician
She had entered this city under an air of caution and pragmatism. But that did not mean she had anything to hide. Nothing as old as she ever did. She had flown to this continent to ascertain of the seeds of power could yet be discovered. Nurtured. Flourished into something the world had never seen before. This city was a shining example that such was in fact the case.
Elizabetta watched as he offered a tree stump to sit on. “Thank you.” Ever civilized. She stepped towards the stump she’d been offered, and stopped to gaze upon it. Ancient eyes searching over it’s bark and surface for any trace of magicks. When she felt satisfied it was merely a naturally-ornate looking stump she took her seat; and gave no resistance to Delilah hopping into her lap. Her hand found the feline’s neck, and began to pet her calmly.
A new meditation practice, perhaps. Something to reflect on later.
“I am The Pale Dragon,” She repeated in her next introduction, the only time she ever pronounced the word ‘the’ with a true English enunciation, “but you, proud Sage, may call me Elizabetta...for now.” She offered that stolid smile of hers. Turning it upon the server fairy whom arrived with a plate of blood, honeyed juice, and cakes. The plate was set upon a small sapling which had grown to form a makeshift table in it’s scraggly limbs. When the fairy did leave Sage did begin speaking again. Elizabetta’s gaze flicked over each item that had been brought to them; and she reached for the plate as she answered.“I’m a curious creature.”
Elizabetta responded coolly to Sage’s implications of suspicion and curiosity…and her flingers plucked not the cup of blood. But a small piece of cake. She pinched some of the baked good from it’s source, and offered it to Delilah. Letting her nibble the food from Elizabetta’s fingertips and lick them clean with her barbed tongue. When all was said and done Elizabetta reached again…for the honeyed juice. Bringing it to her lips and enjoying a taste. It was natural. Sweetened by the honey and enriched by the bounty of the earth. Impressive as always, the Fae. A hidden bonus she had not considered. He may likely be able to instill some of his magicks of agriculture in the future. Or find other Fae willing to do so. More notes for later consideration.
She pulled the glass from her lips–now half-empty–and set it back upon the table. Even in ancient times there were Lords, Regents, and even Antediluvians who would do such things. Store blood. Pour it into a glass. Drink it as if it were wine. As if it were some beverage to be supped and enjoyed. This was how you knew they had lost their capacity as monsters. They had forgotten what it meant to be savage, and primordial. “A Dragon does not sup blood from a glass,” she explained as much to her own thoughts as she did to why she must refuse Sage’s kindness in that regard,
“but bears down on screaming prey…and laps from dhe pools of what remains.”
She turned from the glass then. Settling her eyes back upon Sage. The sentence alone a shivering reminder. She was not like the rest.
“I have tamed no one.” She answered finally. Directing her focus back upon the pixie for which she had traveled here. “She offered herself; and I have accepted her. She is Tzimisce now. Forever dhe First of my Acolytes. She is beloved–” Elizabetta reminded Delilah as the impressive feline swatted at a third falling leaf. Turning her head and mewling when she heard her name. Allowing Elizabetta to rub the back of her digit in the opening of her tufted ear. “--and walks dhe world free of fear. Protected. Under dhe Wings of dhe Dragon.” She looked back up to Sage again. Offering her stolid smile.
“I am told that you–Sage–are a talented thing. I look upon you–” Elizabetta’s eyes drifting up and down Sage’s toned and muscular form, “--and behold a man of pride. I, too, am Proud.” Elizabetta confessed. Placing one hand upon her chest to show the sincerity of that genuine truth. “But I am also…unique.” A truer statement none would hear. She placed her hand upon her leg. The other continuing to mind her cherished First Acolyte sitting upon her lap.
“I…am a Dragon.” To many it would sound like she simply liked hearing herself say this. Oh, and she did. But it was more than that. It was a reminder. A self-admonishment. To never bend. To never break. To never allow humanity as it was, or society as it was; to ever–ever–turn her into anything less than the ancient sovereign she would always be. A verbal declaration of both the pride and the conviction with which she has walked the world since time immemorial and refused–above all else–to bend. To no will on this planet save her own.
“So I will not beg…nor barter. I have come to conscript you–Sage–in my service. For I intend to reshape dhe face of dhe known world. Hear it in my voice." She offered. To hear the certainty. The absolution. The ironclad solidarity in her truth...that the world would not be the same. "Or one day feel it beneath my Wings....I seek talent. I seek those who have ambition, loyalty, and honor…but I am not unreasonable.” Elizabetta smirked. Almost chuckling at the idea of coming in here and demanding everything for nothing. She shook the thought from her mind. Pressing on.
“My reach is vast...and my patience boundless. If there is anything in this world that you desire…anything at all…I will swear it upon my Unlife. That it will be yours. Along with my unwavering loyalty; and dhe same purchase I have made upon Delilah. That I will give my Unlife to protect your breathing one.”
With that Elizabetta allowed a moment of silence to pass. She was never one to mince words or beat around the bush. Not after she’d revealed her name and her intentions to all in this city. By all–of course–she meant only those at Brimstone. But the way the monastery had played out had revealed that information circulated fast. It was wasted effort to hide from this point forward. She would simply have to be diplomatic…or become the Dragon.
She picked up her glass of honeyed juice; and allowed Sage time to both think and answer as she took another drink.
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Posted: Sun Aug 30, 2026 3:35 pm
Dameon Black Alt You can bring Ivy in at your leisure. A woman elegant in appearance moves casually through the market district, a smile that could easily be mistaken for a gentle soul on her face, moving through the crowds with a precision few could possess, her eyes fixed on a group who seemed crowded around an individual person, a man. Those around him meant little to her, just pests that would likely get in the way when she made her move on him, not that she cared or was worried. A job was a job, and this one was a simple capture job. She moved smoothly, keeping up with them but keeping a distance to not draw attention to herself before she was ready. Eventually the crowds started to lighten up before long someone from his group would likely notice her trailing them, so she stopped briefly at what looked like a fruit stand and paid for a what the human called a grapefruit when she inquired about it, as large as it was it would be perfect to get their attention quickly, after all, the client was waiting for him, and if the rumors were to be believed RRT was looking for him as well but well, they weren’t very good at tracking him down which gave her a massive lead ahead of them, but that was fleeting, the longer he walked the greater the chance that a patrol would catch sight of him. Catching up she continued following the group until she found the right spot to confront them and simply stopped in front of an alleyway and forcibly threw the grapefruit, cleaning she threated the needle and smacked the man on the back of the head causing him to stumble and fall to the ground, everyone confused as to what happened it took them only a moment to realize she was there and when he picked himself up with whatever dignity he thought he still had rage showing on his face he took off after her without evening considering his options, the group drawing weapons followed him. Seeing the Group rushing towards her a vicious grin creeped up on Brosk’nir’s face as she took off down the alleyway, the group hot on her trail. These alleyways she knew well enough, they were a maze for those unfamiliar with them, and when you wanted to spend quality time with a group of “Alpha” males who was terrorizing the locales at the beckon call of their leader, well when a contract to take him alive came up Brosk’nir had frowned initially at why she was being called into this, it seemed straight forward but, considering who they were mostly terrorizing upset her. When she first came to New Houston by boat from vampire Island she was aware of the community of demons who were known as the exiles, as she understood it they were those who’d angered King Lareth and exiled rather than killed. After a year with Vexx and how she looked after them, plus the fact that she knew something few in the demon realm was aware of, Vexx was in a comfortable self-exile, as she was told and having seen it for herself The Queen had likely suggested this at some point but she couldn’t be positive, but she knew that since Vexx Diablos had come to New Houston the Exiles were a more contributing member of the New Houston Community, Contrary to what RRT said about demons or as they referred to everyone not human as Supernatural, it became apparent to her that this wasn’t exile, this was unifying the demons of the realm regardless of whether they were exile or citizens of the realm, and having interacted with a lot of them she understood why they were in exile, most if not all were self-exiled. She wasn’t born back then but most of the members of the exiles community were around during the first war of the realm, when her kin had been created to combat a threat that if allowed to succeed would have completely annihilated the entire demon race for simply being demons, a lot of them simply wanted a new start away from the memories and the loss. Her perspective changed after that and if Vexx was protecting them, the least she could do was do the same for her earth-bound kin. Running through the maze of alleys she kept her pace just within sight so that they didn’t lose sight of her, but to be honest she could have disappeared by now and picked them off one by one at her leisure but where was the fun in that, these guys needed to be punished for daring the target the people of the Crown even if they were branded exiles plus the one she really wanted had a mark that couldn’t be ignored, the client wanted to punish him for his crimes and that was enough for her, kill the entourage and leave the leader alive. Once she was well and truly deep within the maze of the alleyways to ensure that the group chasing her wouldn’t immediately escape the trap, she picked up her pace and simply dashed around a corner being she they saw her go around the corner and before they could reach the alley she ran into, she simply changed and took flight. Reaching the roofs before they caught sight of her gave her the momentum she needed. As far as they were concerned, they were still chasing her on the ground and just lost sight of her for a moment. Now the trap could be sprung, drawing both her handguns and Daggers, her daggers in her main hands and handguns in the secondary hands, she began her terror operation moving just at the corner of their eyes her form moving swiftly as she flew around them keeping them unsettled by the fact that they were seeing things and hearing something they couldn’t explain or for that matter that contrary to their efforts couldn’t seem to locate the woman they were chasing. Eight men plus the leader stood at a junction that went in three different directions, and predictably they all split up in three groups taking all three directions, now to thin the herd. As the distance between the groups grew to a point that help wouldn’t arrive in time, she went after the first group of three. She landed on the roof above them as they moved cautiously down the alleyway, smirking she jumped her wings giving her the height to fall above them. As she fell to the ground her wings allowing controlling her descent, she pulled the trigger with both handguns a single shot hitting the first two in the head, and both dropping instantly the third turned around in time to see Brosk’nir land gracefully and using the momentum to propel herself forward her blades coming alive as she spawn her wings controlling her movement easily enough, and cleaving him through the chest with both blade before disappearing, the death cry would have been heard, but by the time anyone could arrive she would be long gone. Stowing her weapons in their sheathes and holsters, she drew her Halberd from her back as she flew and continued to hunt. Predictably two remaining groups converged in the dead and panicked at the realization they maybe were being targeted. The group closed ranks around their leader and started moving moving through the alleyways trying to find a way out and back to the main streets, but this was New Houston’s Market district, most of the buildings in the alleyways were homes to those who worked in the market district, so unless you knew the back paths because you lived here or learned the paths did not tread by most you weren’t likely to find your way out with any amount of certainty, at least not when panicked and being hunted. Brosk’nir followed them from the shadows above when an opportunity opened; she was a blur of motion as her halberd cleaved through another one and disappeared before they could see her. She went like this before only three remained, two of the followers and the leader who had taken the wrong turn and found themselves in a dead end. Realizing their mistake, they turned around in time to head back only to see Brosk’nir land at the end of the dead in blocking their path, her halberd gleamed as she took her stance the light above catching the wicked blade, spear tip and hammer on her halberd. The two remained followers charged her together closing the distance, their weapons were crude compared to the weapons used by war demons but that didn’t make them any less lethal if they got lucky, one carrying a rifle of some kind shooting wildly at her, a barrier of arcane energy erected in front of her absorbed every hit, the other carrying some kind of sword finished closing the distance and just as he stepped through her barrier she move, spinning around her halberd moved swiftly, in the same motion of moving out of away from his attack her Halberd came down hard cutting through his chest and dropping him instantly, she spun her halberd around bringing back to a neutral position her left primary and secondary taking control of the shaft of the halberd as she spun into the air releasing a bolt of fire at the second follower before he could penetrate the barrier, hitting him in the chest and dropping him instantly creating a pile of ash where he fell. She took flight in the same motion hovering above the leader and stared down at the main her four eyes boring holes into him as he panicked “DON’T KILL ME!!!” he dropped his weapon and dropped to his knees trying to beg for his life “let me live and I'll give you whatever you want” the panic in his eyes grew as she landed ten feet from him but said nothing, the malice she had in her eyes was apparent but even she had her part to play and not killing him as was a part of that, the man continued as he groveled on the ground “is it money, I'll double whatever you are being paid to let me live and allow me to go” Brosk’nir shook her head in disappointment before her eyes look past him “you want to take him or shall I?” Brosk’nir collapsed her halberd before stowing it away and changing forms back to her human form standing there with her arms crossed.
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