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Wolfe Garm
Vice Captain

Enduring Hunter

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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.

Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2026 2:37 am

H0ll0wM4n

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.

Red Gypsy
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H0ll0wM4n

Blessed Raider

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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....

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Tzimisce - Philosopher - Musician

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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.

|| THEME: Upward to the Moon ||
|| CURRENT ATTIRE: Brimstone Baller ||
|| REFER: Jaws of Elizabetta. ||
|| VEHICLE: The Pale Horse ||
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....By The Time He Was Finished Speaking, I Finally Understood Which Was More Powerful

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