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May, 2010... Fantasy became reality. Worlds overlay for the briefest moment. Outworlders became stranded on earth as more than half the human populace vanished. Our World, our universe, was transformed.

Fiction is now reality. Humans and those now bound to this world will either learn to coexist, or battle for supremecy.

JUNE 13, 2019 - Family emergency  took a bad turn so had to stay away but now things are finally calming down. Hope to get going again shortly. Thanks for understanding. ~ZEPH

Eris London

Sheut Nation
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156 One of Our All Stars

About Eris London

  • Rank
    Nicely Seasoned


    Olga Kurylenko
  • AGE
    Appears 30's
  • RACE
    Sheut (Khered)
  • JOB
    EAA Viceroy, Former DEA Special Agent-Aviations Div; Pilot
  • 'SHIP:
    New York, New York
    Sheut Nation
    Eris is tiny, curvaceous and powerful. Possessing the physical prowess to do dangerous work before the Resonance, her appearance now is quite deceptive to the casual observer. Standing barely 5’5”, she has a medium long length mane of slightly curly, thick chestnut hair. Eyes are large and dark, face cherub-like and seemingly innocent. When the darkly lined lashes narrow, it’s best to back the hell away or risk something much worse.

    She prefers elegant suits and sharp formal wear, everything she puts on whether it utilitarian or dressy is high end and polished. She can often be seen sucking on a mint of some kind and never touches anything in public.

    Her entire personality can be summed up in one word. Eris didn’t always have a penchant for arrogance, the cutting personality trait developed over time and a long series of unfortunately linked events. Before the Resonance and subsequent infection, she already held abhorrence for the social aspects of life. Relentlessly tortured as a youth by peers that couldn’t fathom the depth of her genius level intellect, it pushed her away from society in a negative light- perceiving interactions with others more of a nuisance in the way of her goals. A business-like demeanor reigned in her communications with others as she grew older, making her prime for difficult and heartless work. Shortly before the Event, devastating news toppled her from her solitary Ivory Towers. Terminally ill, the end of the world and infection was regarded as a blessing since it gave her a second chance at life and the physical prowess to match her mental capabilities.

    Now, she is dangerously cunning, quiet, straight talking and ruthless. She keeps a drawn up list of transgressions and revenge appropriate for those that have wronged her, and plans to deal with each of them on the time she has been given by the Resonance. She has no friends, only people she deems as useful or irrelevant and has an unshakable need for justice- though she is not above heartless nastiness out of spite.

    Eris is best kept on your side of the table- which unfortunately is very hard to do.
    Eris lives in a large warehouse on a former small airstrip near the harbor she has commandeered from the Resonance. Formerly a DEA location and her point of assignment, it contains a small personal jet, a helicopter, and a non-working single engine plane. She has an exclusive list of clientele she ferries for when she is in the mood, the bankroll allowing her to live the lifestyle she has become accustomed to and keep the engines running.

    Surrounded by razor wire, the large complex is a place of business, hiding a rather lavish loft above her aircraft prized possessions.

    NPC's- access to mechanics, etc. to care for her property.


    Sun sensitivity, frequency of feeding, speed, strength, senses, and regeneration - all the typical strengths and weaknesses of the N-infected.

    Shapeshifting- Eris has the lingering ability from post-Resonance magus mutation to take on other human forms that she is familiar with; the Event originally producing a burgeoning shape altering magus, but the assault producing a N-infected, cancer-free Sheut stripped of nearly all the previous affinity. Most effectively, she is able to shift into the form of her late fiance'; the only person she let through her arrogant shell. The more familiar she is with their form, the better the transformation. Often during her brief encounters in public she will take on another face to assist in self protection, able to hold it in place for up to six hours. It isn't without consequences, doubling the frequency in which she needs to feed and almost completely draining her N-infected physical prowess. If unrequited, the frenzy is terrible and weakness lingering. She retains no magus ability to increase the range or scope of the shifting, it is what it is... and has no hope of ever becoming more.
    Gifted Pilot

    Basic combat, firearm and interrogation/questioning

    Extensive knowledge of drugs and drug related activities

    Multiple degrees from various universities (chemistry and aerodynamics), high IQ, genius level
    A native of Albany, Eris was considered a child virtuoso. Blessed with a genius level intellect that reared its head very early in life, the brace-faced tiny girl was tortured in school by her peers- human interaction aspects of her education particularly excruciating. Instead of enduring the constant torment of a hopeless social life, she buried herself in pursuance of her education and becoming a pilot. She earned her basic pilot’s license at 14 and continued to refine her abilities while chewing through grade school requirements and into college credits, completely indifferent to any aspects of normal social interaction. Finishing her Bachelor’s degree by 20, she had also already been employed by the DEA as a generic special agent in pursuance of piloting as a career. Two more degrees and numerous years under her belt doing the dirty work, she landed her job in the sky.

    Shortly before the Resonance, Eris was diagnosed with terminal cancer- which she hid from her employer. Devastated, the crack in her shining future allowed someone in; the self-assured, business-like woman feeling the hammer of mortality for the first time. Recusing himself from her care when there was nothing more he could do, her oncologist became closer than anyone ever had before as she spiraled further into sickness. Missing and presumed dead after the Resonance, Eris struggled with powers from a burgeoning magus status and did whatever she could to find him... making herself a target for the new predators, and becoming one herself.

    She now has embraced her role as the predator, finding it an ironic twist of fate that someone who had been marked for death now has forever to confront all those that wronged her- and make them regret their brutality.

Profile Fields

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    Bodhan Marin
  • All My Characters
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  • Typist's Role Play History
    Since the beginning of time
  • Role Play Sample
    Soft breath moved between her lips, drawn in and out methodically before darkness was allowed to penetrate her lids. She’d been crouched for a long time in the shadows, waiting till the sun fell to scale the building, scenting the bastard... The ledge was a perfect one, just along the side of the building to shift her into nothing, hiding her until the morning; content at the moment to just watch, learn, roll plans over in her brain, make decisions.

    It would be so easy.

    Eyes reflected the meager light, swollen dark opal glowing with iridescent gleams, watching the particularly dashing elf wander across the room to select something from his bookshelf and then seat himself near the fire to read as fingers drew absently along the bough of his cello. It literally burned against her skin, lips pressing to a thin line as she watched the calm relaxation with a vivid hatred. Fingers that lingered over her knees twitched unconsciously, going through the motions as they remembered the last time she skinned an elf. The screaming, whimpering blond hadn’t been particularly dead yet at the time; a passion she’d developed when she mostly fancied the promises they would make her if she left them alive. Her own lips always asked where there were more elves, sometimes obliged, sometimes not. The last had been particularly loose lipped.. which had led her... here.

    Dark eyelashes lingered together, the deep smirk lighting up the glitter of her eyes. It had been too long. Tthe world had driven too many into hiding, her own prowess having to hunt more. Further away to places of the world she loathed going. This elf of particular interest, willing to cross the entire world to find him; and kill him. Her tribe eagerly awaited the silver braid that she would bring back on her belt.

    Fox fur swirled, tickling the edges of her cheeks from the hood drawn over her features. Now she knew where, she needed the how and when. The more she watched the angrier she became, flirting with self control, playing with her ability to bide her time, to wait. She knew the city, rather well and hated it distinctly. A memorable failure still bristled under her skin, the life she still could see in the goliath buildings something she could use and perhaps even tend again.

    In the meantime, she had decisions to make.

    Slipping from her perch, she slid a dainty pair of gray leather gloves on, wisping down the fire escape to the alley below, stepping over a slumped figure that reeked of alcohol. Taking a moment to smooth her appearance, she began her trek, short legs making fast work of the distance to her office, leather binder in one hand, sliding on her glasses. The glint of silver from the delicate chain that held them around her neck caught the light, stark against the dove gray turtle neck at her tiny throat. Footsteps behind her were heard even before they were audible. The vibration.. the scent of alcohol..

    She did look quite the target; tiny, bookwormy, barely a hundred pounds soaking wet and dressed impeccably in black slacks and boots, the silver chain at her waist over her thigh length sweater turtleneck swanky. Grey fox fur swirled as she turned, head cocked slightly at the shadow under a rusted awning. Fingers were nowhere near her hip, black eyes blinked quietly, pale pink lips calm without a smile. She shook her head slowly, the light catching the peak of her ears, finally sliding her coat back slightly to reveal a holster of some kind at her hip, the alcohol laden shadow moving back within them before she turned and finished her way.

    The steps were light, trotting up the stairs to the office and surveying the bustle, eyes lifting upward to the glass railing to scent something before spotting a seat near a conspicuously placed office door. Sitting quietly, she crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap demurely as she watched the workers, eternally patient.
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  1. Eris London

    Sheut Happens

    At one time, she had been a patient woman. She was no longer. The Viceroy could have answers spilling from their gullets in less than sixty seconds; brutal and efficient. No mercy flowed through her veins, especially after all the news of late. She was willing to be patient to learn what she was dealing with when working with Gallo. He’d done this before, which was absolutely clear. Despite the beast rattling its cage, his method seemed to be what kept everything orderly and under control. Regardless, it itched at her. “Come, Roderick.” Interesting. Russet watched the man come forward and try something with the vampire. She was about to learn where some of the boundaries may lie with his sway over the Capo, a wealth of knowledge in her book. Head cocked ever so slightly as it sounded like he was simply turning the volume down on the human’s heart. Nice trick. The rogue though, didn’t seem to respond at all. Not surprising, but noted. “You gave me Venom.” Brow cocked. “You gave me that Jerry was in town.” She could have lied and said the sudden snap of the axe into wood hadn’t prepped her to move. Another person was in play. Four in the room, three outside. She could do the impossible, but this chess game was getting crowded. If something happened, Toby was her first priority, then Roderick oddly enough. Gallo would heal if the vampire struck, or survive long enough for her to get to him. There were so many ways this could slide. It was almost like being back in a helicopter on duty when everyone was trying to kill each other. “Round one is a draw. Everyone gets to keep their hands. Round two…” His question about the venom urged her to say something. She stayed silent. It wasn’t a poison, it was actual venom. It would be interesting to see if the guy knew that. “You need to tell me all about Jerry. While you’re at it, I want to know every detail about the operation that lives within your memory. Who is Jerry? Where is Jerry? Who does he take orders from? How much of the logistics of this operation do you know? It is very important to you that you speak the truth.” That damn Were was going to give her a heart attack. She hadn’t moved a muscle, but her poker face couldn’t hide the heaviness that rolled from her presence. Four in play, three outside and now Gallo was in the rogue’s face. He was either testing her capacity to keep an umbrella of control over the situation, or he was really getting reckless. Maybe both. Maybe neither. He might just have been fucking losing his mind. “I know others like you. There are some within my organization who have sought shelter from those who would wish them harm. Angelo Gaspari owes me a favor. If you can prove yourself to be valuable and trustworthy, I can find a way for him to forgive you of your transgressions against not just myself, but of Bakkhos itself.” For. Crying. Out. Loud. She was going to kill this man. Bluffing or not, a good ear boxing in the very least was going to happen. This was exactly why she’d told Calloway to piss off. He said she needed to learn how to play well with others. She’d said he could kiss her ass. He said be social anyway. That conversation hadn’t ended well. Any conversation with Calloway hadn’t ended well. And now he was too close to the rogue. Don’t touch the rogue. Don’t touch the rogue. Do not trust a rogue..... Aw hell… “Take your time, get your thoughts in order. But don’t take too long. I have all day.” The sharp snap of a hammer suddenly reminded the world how deadly a vampire could be. Before the sound reached the human’s ears, the Viceroy had moved. She’d seen the rogue’s twitch of muscle, and now her muzzle was on his temple in her two-handed grip. Toby had also moved, the human shoved forward with his muzzle at the base of the man’s skull. “Don’t try that again,” she said quietly to the vampire “or any promise he makes won’t matter for either of you.” He glared at her, then exhaled slowly and glowered at the floor. She took three steps backward, but kept on point. Toby relaxed and pulled his captive back up, who was faring much worse than the vampire. He was having a hard time pulling himself back together. *npc* “You need to check your distribution centers...” Words were sullen, but full of mirth as he looked back at her. *npc* “Doesn't matter if Bakkhos forgives me, you'll hunt me down.” She didn’t confirm or deny his observation but he was right, there was no way out of this; even if Bakkhos forgave him and protected him. He’d betrayed his own kind and that was a death sentence. The only way out was to get a pardon from her and he knew it. He knew the inner workings of the Sheut. She needed the name of his maker damn it. She had a pretty good idea, and this would just confirm all suspicions and send her in the right direction toward her traitor. Gallo was running out of time. The clarity in the vampire’s eyes said to her he was healing. There was a very good chance he was going to go for the human that Toby was keeping, or even Roderick. Feet or not, a vampire was fast. He wouldn’t get very far, but he still could do a lot of damage before either of them could get out of the way. His movement had tested how quickly he could twitch before she was on him. *npc* “I can’t tell you any more because I don’t know!” Toby straightened him up, he was starting to support the man. It was taking its toll. *npc* “But I can take you there… if you… protect me from him. Jerry… and Trevor.” Hm. Now she had the vampire's name. She could do the impossible with just a name. Getting somewhere, but the rogue wasn’t budging. He was fed enough that his pain tolerance was holding. He was healing. Stalemate unless she intervened she suspected. *npc* “I'll tell you everything, but I want to speak with Calloway.” Or an ultimatum. Shit.
  2. Eris London

    Shall We Play a Game?

    Eyes closed as she waited. She didn’t need sleep, but she did fall into unconsciousness from time to time. Out and about in the city she didn’t fucking ever dare. Being away from her compound and in the midst of mundane society had a lull of its own though. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bothered to grace an apartment building. College maybe? After that, living on a base, or a camp, even sometimes in a helicopter or plane on a runway when nothing was available. Stark contrast to the effortless and impeccable way she now lived. She hated people. Loathed them. People were selfish, filthy little creatures. Ego driven. Worthless where she was concerned. Very few were even remarkable enough to pay attention to, let alone remember. They transferred their inadequacy and pain onto others every chance they got. No concept of loyalty, or honor. Even then she could hear it in the apartments around her. Somewhere a floor away people were fighting about… who used up all the hot water? Kids crying. Doors slamming. The stink of a trashcan that needed to be taken out that only a vampire’s senses couldn’t tolerate. Scrape of chairs. Television. The cacophony in her head was deafening. Though the sensory noise, a scent cut, coming closer. Dark eyes opened. Finally. The door clicked, opening and closing. Locked. Settling in. A routine well-rehearsed over time. The woman found her almost immediately, the eyes bringing a slight Grinch-like curl upward on the edge of her lip. Magus. Empowered at the very least, exceptionally interested what the gold eyes could see as she looked at the Viceroy. As the pills dropped to the floor, a small sigh escaped the vampire’s nostrils. Fair reaction she supposed, especially after the bloodbath she’d probably seen or been a witness to in the warehouse. The roles from that night between the rogue, the ARMA attack dog, and this one were starting to click together. Why she’d been there in the first place was the question lingering in her mind. Viper eyes watched the scene unfold, the gold shimmer, the limb lost. Panic. Lip twitched slightly over a calm canine. When they were afraid their heart beat so fast, blood hot against skin. Either she was a good actress and was about to mage rage against the Sheut, or she was really having a nervous breakdown. Silence hovered for a few moments. “For God’s sake I’m not going to kill you,” she said quietly. The small frame hadn’t so much as even moved save for speaking. “Quite the opposite actually.” She left it to rest for a moment, giving her time to compose herself if she could. “My name is Eris,” her voice could be amiable and gentle when she wanted it to be. “I understand you’ve met one of my kind and I want to apologize for his transgressions. We are all not so ignorant and agressive. I want you to tell me as much as you can about him. I can take care of the situation so it doesn’t happen again.” Then business. To know vampires existed was to be in her cross-hairs. To have survived, and be a magus, was potential employment. Calloway was on her ass to make her network. Fuck him. She would do it but she didn’t have to like it. “Then we’re going to talk about you and your friend from that night."
  3. Eris London

    Sheut Happens

    Her hands relaxed to her sides, one on the holster for her pistol, resting there. It was a visual cue to push the two to talk, but mostly because Gallo’s growl could be felt in her bones. Eyes never left the rogue, even as the other started blurting out information. “Tell me about Jerry. The one of you that pleases me the most with your answer gets to keep their feet.” Mob mentality came to mind. Not the mafia mob… though of course that had some similarities here for all intents and purposes. It felt like they were feeding off each other’s emotions until something broke loose. The Were’s restraint had pressed anger tightly into a box and she could feel it. Smell it even. She was no longer human, a beast in her own right. A lethal, calculating, predator and Gallo was needling at her buttons. Unaware of course. She’d never been this close to a functioning Were still within their senses. It was… intoxicating in its own way. “Wait. My apologies. I had forgotten. Winner keeps their hands.” Lashes lowered slightly, eyes shifting to Toby. The human’s heart was insanely fast, she was checking up on her protégée. Nervousness forced blood close to the surface, fear triggered their chase response. As elegant and romantic as people made them in popular culture, they were still animals. Primal could kick in at a moment’s notice. He nodded lightly to her unspoken question. He was fine. As the human’s skin lit up with the perspiration of fear, a scent lingered. Breath moved in and out to “taste it”. She knew that smell. The stench from the bottle was still with her, mixed with something else. That something else was on the human’s skin. Or clothes. The cold had congealed it, but his warmth in panic was causing it to aerate. *npc* “Wait, wait! I’ll tell Gallo everything for protection. Eris. London. I know who you are. Please. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you who made him!” He knew about the Nation? This was getting more interesting by the second. He was appealing to the wrong person. *npc* “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” They’d turned on each other. Nice work Gallo. Apply pressure, be calm, and just let them stew until they start biting each other’s throats. The human was in the midst of a complete meltdown, close to sobbing. He was in the panic, hopeful phase. She watched the human, for the first time an expression emerged from her features. Curiosity. She was still trying to place the scent. *npc* “I’ll tell you what it is!” *npc* “He’s lying, he doesn’t know!” *npc* “I do! I do!” “Venom,” she said quietly as the pieces clicked into place. *npc* "Venom" They’d said it at the same time. She nodded to Gallo to confirm he was telling the truth. It was the pure saturation that was throwing her off. She’d never smelled it this concentrated before. No wonder Gallo recoiled so sharply. Sometimes when the lords, or even local grunts, were sure someone was stealing or embezzling their product, they would taint it with different substances to see where the overdoses or symptoms popped up. They got inventive sometimes. What she’d seen in her short career before the Resonance was brutal, and evil. This might go further up the pipeline than Gallo realized. Where did he get his supplies from? Someone that was selling him his supplies may be purposefully sabotaging the man or were seeing whether or not they were supplying to the “mob”. Either way, it was targeted. Tom potentially couldn’t trust someone he was doing business with. That led to another problem, were the crates poisoned here? It could potentially be on them, anywhere. The human, not likely. The vampire? Who would have fewer problems handling something like this? A vampire. They were either being made to handle this, or they were being made when a human was poisoned with it to keep them alive. Fuck it all… Crates were already here, made somewhere else most likely, so perhaps they’d dodged that bullet. The vampire had slouched a bit more, sullen, eyes narrowed. Maybe things were finally catching up to him. “On purpose?” she asked him quietly. Was he made on purpose? He shook his head. She nodded once. He was an accident then, made from someone being a careless ass. That was another level of transgression in her book. Didn’t mean this idiot was innocent in the very least, but it helped focus her anger on whoever was doing it. They needed to let the human and the vampire go. After whoever was responsible found out this cache was ruined, they would come looking for them. Bait. The two in the car were forfeit. Of course, it was Gallo’s call. His business, his call. *npc* "Jerry is in town," the Hesek finally mumbled. Oh really?
  4. Eris London

    Sheut Happens

    She could stand forever at attention, unmoving as a demure statue, not alive. It was a misconception. She breathed, her heart beat, and she could eat to keep up the illusion. When it came down to it, she was still not human. That single fact was keeping everyone safe at the moment; safe from the rogue, his friends, and Gallo. This was new territory. Expanding her trust base beyond her tight circle required her to release absolute control. It was not a comfortable position to be in. Her crew was incredibly efficient, but they had not dealt with a Were this closely. Neither had said a word to her thus far about being worried. Because they trusted her. Her attention was split, not just on the rogue. Toby and Ahanu could handle the rogue now that he’d come to his senses. Eris was ready to swing the aim at Tom in an instant if necessary. His range, though contained, ticked at her temples. It kept her teeth on edge, and teased at the wicked streak she could unleash when needed. If anything, she was staunchly controlled. He flirted at the edge, she was curious how closely. Ripping the lid from the crate was an interesting show, flooding her senses with broken wood, glass and even the scent of the scotch within. Lashes narrowed imperceptibly, something else hovered with it. “Do you know what happens when someone drinks this? Surely you must. It is gruesome. Painful. Slowly…fatal.” …and that was why she was willing to be here with a gun in her hand. Damage to Bakkhos meant damage to her east coast. Bakkhos’ survival was vital. Though brusque in some of its dealings, they were a driving force to support the return of civilization. They employed people, kept pushing forward with even the luxurious aspects of life. Normalcy. Poisoned stock was a blow they wouldn’t recover from immediately. As he moved toward her, she was untangling the aromas. She’d smelled it before, her human life having an intricate knowledge of everything poison and drug related. Where had she smelled it before? He cracked the seal, and her eyes moved to his slowly, then back to the rogue. Affirmative. Something was there, and she’d come across it before, flipping through the figurative Rolodex in her memories to pinpoint it as he approached Toby’s ‘guest’. “Fear not, little one. I only ask for your help. I am going to ask your friend here, some questions. If he lies, I want to you to say so. Help me, and I will take great care of you. Not simply survival. Prove yourself to me tonight, and I will make sure you and those you care for are taken care of properly. Fail me… …just don’t fail me.” She fought the urge to smile. Eris. Smiling. Almost happened. What a concept. “Who asked you to guard this?” The rogue’s eyes shifted to her, he was appealing to her ‘mercy’. He did know who she was. Bully for him. She gave Tom the lead, returning her firearm to her thigh holster and crossing her arms. *npc* “They’ll kill me if I snitch. If I talk, you gonna protect me too?” The rogue’s face was serious. Her patience had limits. If this joker was in her hangar she’d have shot him in every major joint by now. *npc* “Adopt me like your little Hesek stepchild over there?” grin was sarcastic. Asshole still had fight, and he'd missed the mark on her 'mercy'. Someone hadn't told him the right information on her. She understood Weres had rage, and up to now Tom had not seen hers. Her anger, stealth, strength, yes. Irritation, yes. Rage, no. A cheap shot at her people was met with death. A cheap shot at Toby, was unforgivable. Beneath the unbreakable façade, she was raging. “Answer Mr. Gallo’s question,” she said quietly, taking every last cable of control not to leap forward and rip the vampire limb from limb and worse. Toby’s eyes had moved to her with more than just a glance. She’d forgive him for that. Gallo owed her. The rogue’s face lost its last bravado. *npc* “I don’t know,” he answered quickly. “I just watch the warehouses, my boss said just watch the warehouse and the crates.” Warehouses? As in plural? Toby's grip must have tightened as he watched his boss, anticipating the viper that was readying to strike. In any event, it had unexpected results. *npc* "Jerry! His name's Jerry!" the human fish under Toby's care blurted out. Jerry. Warehouses. Progress, if just a little.
  5. Eris London

    Shall We Play a Game?

    February 22nd, 2022 Before midnight The Harbor, Maya Rowen's Apartment Blood was everything. Life. Death. What else was there? Warehouses were such a cornucopia of scents. Disposable for anything and everything that needed to go from point A to point B. Owned and sold, lost and found. They were the perfect place to become something and nothing at all. Decaying blood was even more potent. Scrubbed clean by ARMA, nevertheless it clicked on the top of her palate with a distinct metallic taste. Solvents. Dirt. Oil. Even mana had a smell, for lack of a better term. Death was here. The hunter was here. Others. The dead rogue had the hunter’s scent all over him. Another. Another had been with him. It was the “another” she was following. Someone else had walked out of here. She wanted to know who it was, and why she was allowed to live when everyone else had been killed. It hadn't escaped her that maybe the hunter had saved someone, she was still having a hard time believing the hunter had saved himself, let alone killed one of her kind. She chalked it up to Hesek inexperience and dumb luck. The hunter, she knew. He knew she knew. Being a member of ARMA made him manageable for now. The other, was a wildcard. She didn’t like wildcards, which made this hunt all the more needed. Dropping down into the darkness with the grace of a feline, she walked through the emptiness that had once held bodies and blood. Gloved hands demurely in her coat pockets, she watched the floor where her black Gianvito trench coat buckle boots were walking. Even clean, the scents were everywhere. Bodies, had been everywhere. Following the trail again like a bloodhound, she was retracing steps she’d walked before to make sure the one she’d isolated and tracked was the one she needed. It was. Disappearing into the darkness, the warehouse was left behind. The city was not as bright as it used to be, the end of the world could do that. Some nights seemed to glow like daylight when the clouds were low and the snow was flittering to refract residual city lights. Tonight, it was dark, and that was why she chose it. Freshly fed, she could move almost without being seen, a shadow in the corner of someone’s eye as she made her way to the bullseye of where she’d been tracking for days. The corner of the street sealed the deal, scent potent and recent, deciding whether or not to go in the front door or from above. Considering she hadn’t put on a different face for the evening, above seemed the more prudent choice. Several leaps took her to the window she needed, strength and pre-Resonance skill taking care of entry, displeased to find nobody home. Steps silent, she took in the studio apartment with silent eyes, taking off her coat and folding it over her arm without removing her gloves as she found a chair. Coat over the side of the chair, she sat, one leg crossed over the other, hands folded in her lap, watching the door in absolute stillness. She didn’t have all night.
  6. Eris London

    Sheut Happens

    Rogue eyes were on her, the mention of Gallo being in charge not quite sitting well with him apparently. He was not expecting it. The Viceroy was usually predictable in the fact that her decisions were clear cut and absolute. Few that crossed the Sheut in her territory were allowed to survive. This was well known among anyone that decided to pass through the east coast. Whether from her hand or the Executioner’s, most preferred the Sheut Executioner by the time she was finished. Vampires were not a large population, and their existence was of the utmost importance to keep under the radar. Gallo was going to get his information, and then she was going to get hers. Who made this idiot, and why was this the second in as many weeks? The Were was exploring his own issue, she needed to find the vampire that was making more without permission. Watching him get answers was going to tell her volumes about who this vampire was. “Bring one of the others.” Nod toward Toby was imperceptible, and it played off like Gallo had given the order. Toby holstered his weapon and was off with oiled precision to retrieve another. “While they get your friend, let’s chat.” Calm was written all over the Viceroy’s visage. Arms crossed, dressed down, she seemed relaxed. In reality, the closer he got to the vampire the more alert she was becoming. Strength may be wane from the injuries, but Sheut Ka were fast. Thomas might be strong, but all it would take was the rogue lunging forward at his throat to put a massive wrinkle in his plans. “Let’s get something straight right away. You know what I am. I know what you are. You are like my associates here.” She blinked slowly, the only indication she was alive. Absolutely still, she looked like a statue. “But you aren’t quite like them are you, Hesek?” The rogue’s eyes flicked to Eris after nodding to Gallo, narrowing at her then glancing after Toby. She didn't outwardly respond in the slightest. Inside? She was ready to rip him to pieces. He knew. Gallo couldn’t have and she was content to leave it that way for the moment. The rogue knew about Toby, which was interesting. The one that made him definitely had his finger on the pulse of Sheut dealings, or her at the very least. This could be bigger than she imagined. Knowing these things about her and mucking up her constable’s business spoke volumes. Someone might be challenging her; it brought a train of other problems with it. After they left this place, it was evident to her Toby may be in danger. To threaten him, meant the fury of the volcanic tiny vampire was in full force. He had no idea what he was up against. Toby returned with the second, hands zip-tied. Ahanu had apparently been busy babysitting. Once he saw his friend neatly discarded along the wall where her second had leaned him in a sitting position, he started to frantically struggle. Toby had the back of his neck and forced him to his knees, the grip keeping him from struggling further. Showtime.
  7. Eris London

    Sheut Happens

    His smirk was worth a million dollars. Even though she did like to get her hands dirty, she didn’t particularly like getting her hands dirty in front of people she wasn’t well acquainted with. Thomas may have been a constable, but for all intents and purposes they had a business relationship. Over time they would get to know each other better through Sheut dealings, however she was not expecting this amount of action this early. The smirk, made up for it… just a bit. It intrigued her that he’d let her take the reins. His work on the rogue before she’d gotten there signaled his intent to rip this man apart. Perhaps restraint took over at the discovery of the vampire. It showed good judgment given he could have stepped in the hornet’s nest of politics that was the Sheut. That would win him a few points with Glamis. The vampire’s struggle on his approach was met with a tighter snap on his neck, stretching it to the breaking point as she watched the Were towering over them. Toby had not moved an inch, aim still true. He wouldn’t until he was told to stand down. “Good. You remember me. This shouldn’t take long. What’s in the boxes? You have one chance to answer honestly.” “Fuck you!” It was her turn to smirk, the smile a true one with elegant teeth on full display as she looked at the Were. She watched him carefully, the same control kept the rage in check. He would have torn this rogue to pieces. It made her wonder if he'd done this type of thing before... not on vampires. “I don’t like being made to be a liar. But I understand you have gone through a lot in the last few minutes and I’ll give you another chance after you’ve had a few minutes to think it over.” Dark smile faded when bones cracked and flesh tore. The rogue was starting to squirm again, pain, shock, frenzy and blood rush… it was all starting to take its toll. Still dangerous as hell, the psychological game was added to the mix, accelerated by Gallo’s persuasive insistence. It was as effective as the sun. Her kind didn’t particularly like to lose pieces or skin, made healing that much more difficult. As he retrieved a crate, her words whispered into the rogue’s ear. “Do you know who I am?” Rigid shake was affirmative. “Good. I’m going to allow you to take it out because you’re going to answer his questions. Answer his questions and you might actually have a chance to walk out of here, but that’s up to him. I was just going to kill you and get it over with. I think he has other plans.” Another rigid shake confirmatory. The chosen words were not a fluke. Grip was loosened slightly and the rogue was allowed to somewhat put himself right. Able to talk at least, slumping forward in a sitting position. She slid herself from beneath him, pistol pulled from her thigh holster as she backed away enough to mirror Toby’s stance on the vampire’s opposite side. Toby’s ammunition would shred the rogue’s chest, hers his head, only if he was able to move before the viceroy got to him and removed his head from his body. “Cooperation will get you everywhere,” she holstered the sidearm, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's in charge... I would cooperate." Toby remained on point. Bullshit. They were going to kill him. No matter what they did, he was healing. Gallo was going to need to work quickly. She would bet money the vampire was going to go out fighting and would wait for the right moment to lunge at any of them. He needed to get the information out before that happened. This was a test. She was going to let Gallo finish him off, if he chose to. The viceroy needed to see how long the Were's patience would last before he did.
  8. Eris London

    Sheut Happens

    He seemed to be coming around, keen eyes exceptionally attentive in their aloof fashion. More than anyone… she understood. Weres, Sheut Ka, they were made from the same fabric. Weres had no control, but knew it was coming. Sheut Ka had control until they didn’t. It was a crapshoot when you’d be weak enough for the bloodlust to take over. All the planning in the world couldn’t predict a catastrophe. Both had another side that should be fiercely respected. The moment one didn’t, was the moment it killed you and the others around you. The more he struggled and compressed the beast, the more he intrigued her. She could withdraw from the world any time she wanted. He could not. No wonder he was beating the shit out of people in front of an audience in a giant arena. He needed to. One brow ticked to a minuscule arch as his jaw seemed to set at her suggestions. “I have a slightly different idea.” Toby’s eyes slid to Eris, then back to Tom. His arm snapped sharply downward to stop the rabbit from struggling; the food seemed stunned for a moment. Long breath was drawn in and she pushed off the table, arms still across her chest. She’d turned herself into a tiny wall, the formidable presence waiting for his idea with slightly narrowed eyes. Where rogues were concerned, she didn’t have to listen to shit. Him being able to have a crack at him was a courtesy, and her being ‘mindful’ of the Were’s feelings was a new thing for Toby to see. Toby hadn’t been knuckle to knuckle with a Were yet. A conversation was going to be had later, especially about Toby’s “tell” when he just questioned her for bending slightly to someone’s suggestions. The issue of her having complete jurisdiction on rogues would be discussed with Gallo after the moon. Right now she needed information and so did he. “Instead of a ‘me then you’ type of interrogation…why don’t we do Bad Cop worse Cop?” Blink was quick. “Role play,” her arms relaxed to her sides without emotion. “Kinky.” As he came closer to the table to retrieve a chair and other unsavory things, she moved to collect her bait from Toby, using the momentary distraction of the Were’s task to finish hers. Toby held the man by the back of the neck; grip so tight he could snap his spine. Her back to the Were, the Sheut’s charge towered over her. Head shook softly as she looked up at the bait, picking up his wrist, she wasn’t going to feed him alive to a frenzied Sheut Ka. She was neat, as neat as they could be, and not on display for the world to see. She would take as much as she needed to knock him out and embellish her own strength. The viceroy knew the rogue might rip him apart. Waking the rogue would be frenzy until she could stuff enough blood down his gullet for him to return to his senses. A flailing bait-boy would spray blood everywhere and risk agitating Gallo. A frenzied vampire, a pissed off Were and a frantically bleeding hysterical human was not a cluster fuck she wanted to deal with tonight. Cheeks flushed as the man’s legs gave out and Toby released the unconscious weight to her. Lips parted from the man's wrist, tongue sliding over her front teeth neatly. He went up and over her shoulder, her thumb tight on the wrist wound to keep him from bleeding everywhere. “I’ll pull the stake, you take the bait to the table and finish him off,” instructions to Toby were absolute. She left the words ‘because I might need you’ unsaid. No need to alarm the Were. It was about to get ugly anyway. “When they lose this much blood, they frenzy. Out of control, is almost as bad as a full moon Were,” she said quietly, the red stain still on her teeth. She specifically didn’t put this idiot vampire in a category with Toby and herself. The rules weren’t different; Gallo just didn’t need to know that right now either. Heel of her free hand pulled the unconscious rogue’s jaw open. Listless bait-boy was set on the ground, one of his arms extended toward Toby, the other above the rogue’s mouth as she took her thumb off. It streamed down his throat, dark eyes watching it to make sure it was actually sliding down. “It's going to get ugly for a moment. Let me take care of this Thomas,” it was a tone most never heard, actually… concerned, and at the same time indifferent that her teeth were on full display as she spoke. No time but the present to cast aside some of the last of the façade formalities. Nodding to Toby, the motion was almost too fast to see. The bait was gone, and the petite viceroy pulled the stake, hand immediately on his throat and the other in the center of his chest to hold him down. The flail was nearly instantaneous, fresh blood jump starting the engine, a cord in her neck flicking as he struggled against her. He grabbed her throat and she rolled, in two motions she had her legs around his waist and elbow under his chin in a choke hold. It wasn't often she used her human training... seemed to be the theme of the evening. It was pointless to restrain his arms. There was nothing that could hold them but the Sheut herself, and she was occupied keeping the crazy-ass vampire from launching at them. Teeth gritted, fierce growl from between them as she held fast. A freshly fed Toby had drawn his weapon, and it was aimed center mass in the rogue’s chest. He was absolutely aware the viceroy would get hit as well by proxy; the ammunition he was firing would punch through both of them. The point was to put the rogue down and protect Gallo and anyone else that could be hurt by the domino effect. It was suddenly apparent the depth of understanding she and her two assistants had, and how far the petite woman would go to protect people around her. If something happened to her, Ahanu was prepared to be the one to bring her back. They were an unbreakable circle. She hissed sharply as nails dragged a vicious trail from left cheek to collarbone, ponytail whipping as she turned her head. The violent thrashing finally was starting to subside. A more controlled struggle was taking place, the snap of her arm tightening the choke hold and cocking the man’s head at an odd angle. She was indeed stronger, and he realized he wasn’t going anywhere. “If you want to live, you will answer this man’s questions. I can and will tear your head off,” her grip didn’t falter, eyes flicking up to Gallo as she nodded once. Grimy, bloody and injured, the viceroy held her ground for the Capo to start his good cop and such. She had no idea at the moment which one she was supposed to be...
  9. Eris London

    Sheut Happens

    Soft blink responded to his sudden realization she was there. That wasn’t good. Interesting. He was fascinating, having surmised by this point that Roderick had some sort of sway over the man when he got this close to the moon. That would have to be her secret for now until she could determine how much, Ausar wasn’t going to like it either way. Shit. That was another thing they had to talk about. She needed to introduce them. Joy. "I've been better" Clearly. Her nonchalant comment was a gauge of where his mind was, and it proved telling. The fight had obviously brought him injury and he’d healed. Damn, Weres were something else. She’d never really watched the process from this vantage point before. Usually she was actively trying to kill them when she had to worry about the healing. She was baffled though why he was here in the first place. "I didn't mean to imply that a battle was still occurring. Didn't mean for you to bring the troops." She turned the Sheut’s face again. No clue who this asshole was. “Don’t think you’re special, I always bring my troops. I was in the neighborhood anyway.” Playful smirk was lit over coarse words. It might be lost on him at the moment. For Roderick’s benefit then. She stood, slipping off her soft shell coat and hanging it on the back of one of the more savory chairs. This was going to get messy and the coat was new. "The last several months, I have been getting reports of bottles of my booze being poisoned and killing folks. Nasty, fast acting stuff. Undetectable to humans." Brow cocked. She was a little pissed that he hadn’t told her, just a little. Bare arms crossed as she listened, leaning on the table with her hip. They weren’t in public, so her dressing down wasn’t something he or Roderick had seen before. Not out of character, just deeper into the complexity of the Sheut’s world. Shooting gloves would probably be taken off soon as well. Eyes narrowed slightly at the growl, the imperceptible glance to Ahanu giving her silent instructions. She shifted to lean on the table with her other hip, right hand nonchalantly to her thigh holster and unsnapping it before crossing her arms again. The man was stable, but fighting it. "It is the nastiest, most offensive smell I've ever encountered. I am uncertain who or what else can detect it like that. I've only shown it to one other outside the Family and she couldn't tell one from the other." Eyes narrowed. "I received some information that led me here. This, was an unexpected surprise." He finally seemed to become aware of his appearance. "Khered? Hesek? What else don't I know that I probably should?" Dark eyes looked calmly to Roderick, he really shouldn’t have been there but it was her call. “I’m a Khered, it means someone made me with permission. I am not a first. A Hesek is a rogue. I know all Sheut that are made in my domain. If one is made without permission, they are a rogue and they die.” She looked toward Ahanu and nodded. “Ladies choice,” she said. “Relieve Toby, I need him here. Anti-viral for you and Roderick, now.” The woman nodded in return and went to retrieve one of the poker players in Toby’s possession. She approached the rogue again, removing her gloves and putting them in her back pockets. This was going to get messy, and bloody. It was going to allow the Were and his assistant to see the other side of the small volcanic Sheut. She would have to feed one of the poker players to the downed vampire, just enough to keep him from losing his shit. “I’ll let you question him first, then I get a crack at him. The donor will die, and he will die. I will have to consider killing his friends as well depending on what we’re told. They know Sheut Ka exist, that’s enough for me to forfeit their life. You can take any alcohol you find here that’s yours after we clean up and are gone.” Dark gaze watched him, then moved to Toby who was dragging someone in kicking and screaming. “Are we in agreement Mr. Gallo?”
  10. Eris London

    Sheut Happens

    Shots erupted in a concussive burst inside the hangar's custom firing range, a fine crinkle marring perfectly manicured brows. It wasn't fast enough. The swift elegance at which she could pull the trigger did not compute with the mechanics of the firearm. It was the best, but reflexes were faster. In a life or death situation, that was a problem. Toby gave her a side glance as she huffed through her nose and holstered the sidearm. The petite woman was in rare form. It wasn't unusual for her to practice old skills, being infected opened up a whole new slate of problems most never realized. Big, bad and nearly indestructible came with responsibilities most missed. If for whatever reason you needed to resort to a weapon and the weapon didn't respond well enough, you were fucked twice. Motion was nearly impossible to see, drawing, reloading and firing an entire magazine off as the pace of her side steps were incredibly slow. Control was the lesson of the day. Being able to move quickly didn't erase the fact the target didn't and a firearm would react to whatever the marksman did or did not do. Retraining to move slower to meet the limitations of a weapon was fucking annoying. Using a firearm while Sheut could be incredibly complicated. Gloved hand holstered the weapon again. "I'll work on it," Toby said. He had a fantastic way with the mechanics of weapons. It was probably impossible to get something to work as quickly as they could move. Trying would do no harm though. "You're still pulling left." That brought a frown, looking back at her targets. Being invincible didn't make that go away either. Contrary to what most believed, she did 'dress down'; not above tactical gear for training purposes or high risk flying. It was the base of her skill knowledge, and she respected it with continuing practice. She was proud of the work she did before the Resonance, it just didnt fit with her public persona. If they ever made designer work boots, she'd be the first in line. Black, always black though... from the sleeveless tank that revealed how petite she really was to the Bates tactical boots that gave her no height whatsoever. The khaki and fatigue green were something she could no longer stomach no matter what. Phone vibrated softly in one of her pant pockets. Velcro crunched, pulling it out. "London." "Whatever you are doing, drop it. Come to the warehouse a few miles south of your hangar. I'll text you the address. We have a problem." "Shit," she muttered under her breath after he'd hung up. "Had to have a rich man's problem when I'm working." Outward words were callus and disinterested. Internally, there was a serious spark of concern. Gallo did not tell her to drop everything, he never let his fires get hot enough that he couldn't put them out before she got there. At least that she knew. It was close to the moon, which would explain the harshness. Roderick was fairly good at staving it, if he hadn't or wasn't, meant that for whatever reason he couldn't or wouldn't. That was the cause for concern. Steps quickened, snagging her black softshell jacket and snapping up the hood as she made her way to the door. "Car?" Toby asked. "No, you and Ahanu in the armored car. Have Mouse ping my phone and meet me there." There was no location text from Gallo, which pushed her faster. A car roaring around searching for trouble would only cause more. Some things you just couldn't sense or smell from a car. She was going on foot, peering up at the nearly dark sky as she stuck close to the hangar and crossed the tarmac to the gate tower. Punching the code, she slipped through the gate into the darkness of the fields that surrounded them. Flat run, human, fifteen- she was short. Sheut, considerably less. Searching for scent and blood gave her direction. Scaling decrepit buildings by their fire escapes and jumping from roof to roof the scents finally hit her like a wall. She slid through a malfunctioning vent window, balancing on a steel girder overhead before landing silently near the table. "How are we doing Thomas?" she inquired quietly, pushing her hood back and swiping loose bangs behind her ear. Less than perfect, she hated that, in public anyway. He'd clearly come close to losing it. She was looking at the discarded cards of the poker game, reaching with gloved fingers to turn over a hand as she slowly walked around the table. Eyes weren't on him, but honed attention was. "These hands are useless. What the hell were they playing for..." She'd already surveyed his work, allowing the fractured anger that she felt roll against her pass by without challenge. Her tone was quiet, gentle, inquisitive about what she saw. "Are we playing poker, or are we hunting?" Phone buzzed in her pocket, she lifted it to her ear and listened as she watched him. It would be a bad idea to take her eyes off him. The Were was going to be as big a problem as the nearly deceased vamp might be. Interesting night. "Round them up, four from the looks of it. Wait for instructions. Look for Roderick, make sure he's safe." She took the assumption he was around somewhere most likely. Toby and Ahanu had encountered the four, snagged quietly outside and into the car. She stopped next to the vampire, brow cocking up at the clearly pissed off Were. "Tried to run I see?" smirk was light. She pulled a utility knife from her hip and knelt, turning the rogue's battered face toward her. "Not someone I know, Khered. Not a first, he's somebody's. Smells like the other Hesek I found last month. I need him to talk. When he wakes he's going to frenzy and I don't have the tools here to stave that, unless we feed him one of his friends." She considered it. Not bringing this into her hangar was optimal, especially since she didn't know Gallo's status. "Which we could. Today's lesson is staking. We don't die, just coma." Movement was quick, impaling the vampire in the heart and standing up. "There. No running. Now we have time to talk. Want to fill me in before I wake this idiot up?"
  11. Eris London

    Eris London

  12. Eris London

    Be Careful Where You Wander

    "Cassandra Greene speaking." Silence. Cassandra Greene. Interesting. Toby's attention moved from the mess on the floor to his boss, he'd heard the introduction. Dark gaze watched her carefully. "So you're the sister," not much of a conversation starter, the soft words hanging in the air. Sheut ears could hear the heart still pumping blood from her kill, slowing with each beat as seconds ticked by and the silent connection over the phone hovered in stalemate. A gurgle wheezed the rogue's last breath through its gaping trachea. Information he'd shared burned her tongue to move forward with this conversation. If she had the mage's phone, she was either in charge, or sentimental and keeping his things. If in charge, she was the one to speak to. If sentimental, they would have another problem to shut up. "A gray Mercedes will be out front of the Reserve building in one hour. The driver's name is Toby, don't make him wait. He will not hurt you. If it's not you, he'll know. We meet, and then he takes you back." ...because he knew the scent of her brother. If this woman was not blood kin they would make that punt when it became an issue. She assumed the sister was in the Reserve building, if not she better get her ass there or miss the train. "Alone. Do not bring the fucking hunter that killed my rogue with you. I will deal with him later." She was silent again for a moment. "We need to talk about how your magic slingers' current problem is now unfortunately my problem." Phone snapped shut, ending the call, eyeing the mangled mess she'd made of the vampire. "Leave it," was the command, quiet and subversive. "She needs a crash course in the fucking shitstorm that's going to happen if they can't get their act together. Go get her. If the hunter is with her, shoot him in the face." She left to clean up to a new suit, and wait to either be stood up or graced with the sister's presence.
  13. Eris London

    Be Careful Where You Wander

    The phone spun, then spun again. It took less than a nod to call Ahanu back from her mission. Instead the Viceroy sat in her lavish office in near darkness, green glass desk lamp on, the cell phone spinning on her leather desk pad. Fingers were on her temple, elbow on the desk. Fingertip pushed it and spun it again. This. Damn. Phone. Play nice, Glamis had said. Of course, but sending her people to ARMA to arrange a meeting was not what she needed to do. She needed to get more information, and play roulette with the phone. Snapping it into her hand, she was already moving. Vintage lavender Prada heels clicked softly through the hangar with lethal intent, black flight clothing replaced by an impeccable gray suit. A quick stop on the way and she was back in the “hole”, the mechanical room where all her problems were housed until she decided what to do with them. One rogue had been beheaded and removed, room cleaned spotless. The other, was listless on the floor. She tossed the blood pack at him, nodding to Toby to step back. “If you talk I won’t kill you.” Hands slid gently into her pockets, watching the beaten Sheut Ka reach for the sustenance and attempt to feed. Noble features cast her gaze to the wall, she hated watching people feed; gauche and disgusting, like a fucking two year old with a Slurpee. He was starting to move a bit more, dragging himself to the wall to lean on it. Toby had really done a number on him, her forbidden protégé was picking up her vicious streak. He talked, she listened. What little he gave her, painted a more complete picture of the storm that was starting to shake the foundations of her charge. More rogues, helping idiots play king of the hill. Fucking hell. Phone was tapped quietly in her pocket. Footsteps neared him, “who’s in charge of this slumber party magic tricks shitshow.” It wasn’t a question, the calm demeanor of the petite vampire could demand the world with a whisper. The idiot laughed slightly, the lunge at her fierce and sudden. In that moment, she snagged him by the neck and slammed him to the ground hard enough to crack the concrete beneath him. The tiny Sheut was fierce, and as quick as a viper. “Who’s in charge.” He began clawing at her hand, giving her nothing. “Fine.” It was done, head torn from his body with a thick sounding twist, both dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Perfectly manicured brows furled slightly, stepping out of the growing pool of blood to save her favorite pumps. “Fucking dumbass,” she said particularly to herself, pulling the phone from her pocket and sliding off the now spattered suitcoat to hand to Toby. It flipped open, the call button caressed a moment with her bloody thumb before pressing it and lifting it to her ear. She hadn’t called the number in a year. The question was, who would pick up the other end…
  14. Eris London

    Be Careful Where You Wander

    February 15th Late Evening Eris' Compound Being summoned to a meeting in Glamis was positively something she hated. It was dangerous to fly into the North at this time of year, networks had not been completely restructured yet. There were a few places she could land in the event of mechanical failure, but not many that were equipped to help her with what she needed to get the plane back into the air. The meeting was as expected. Demands. Irritating assholes. Arrogance. People that didn't know what the fuck they were talking about. Wants and needs that couldn't necessarily be delivered with the resources she had. Some sort of idiotic threat, crawling through New York. She'd gotten a whiff of it over the last year or so, but it had been quiet lately. Why was Sheut concerned? Because if bad guys gobbled up the magic slingers, they might annoy the Sheut Nation. Humans and their magic. Idiots. Just find a magus to screw and get the fascination out of their system. She couldn't get out of Glamis fast enough. Flight had been quiet, weather somewhat amiable. As the lights of New York came back into view, she couldn't help but really want to be home. Away from those that had no understanding or relatively little fucking clue of what the rest of the world was going through. Their only want was to make sure that their position reigned supreme, and to be assholes; with the exception of her adopted brother. Even he had his moments when she wanted to smack him on the back in the head. If she could reach, that is. Damn moose. The tiny vampire reached forward, clicking several small levers as she adjusted the headset and spoke to her ground crew. "Flash", said quietly the plane turning gracefully in the air. The runway near the coast lit up once, its chasing lights on the ground unseen unless from above. All she needed was the position to land, her eyesight could do the rest. Touchdown would be slightly dicey, winter flights were always a risk. Her crew kept the runway pristine. Always. The elegant Cessna touched down in almost complete darkness, immense power vibrating through the beast as she reversed engines to slow it to a crawl and taxi. "Gold window shields worked great Mouse," words were quiet over the radio. No response, there never was. The techie was always listening though.Turning over the plane to her crew, the petite form stepped down from the cockpit. She fucking hated winter, the black Louboutin mad heel boots she had on effective against the elements, but didn't bring her any closer to Ahanu's height. Black slacks were pristine, black Mackage Kay coat fluttering its fur collar at the bitter wind as she peered out of the hood up at her right hand. The woman's face wasn't pleased. It was never pleased when she had to tell the Viceroy bad news. Toby wasn't with her, which meant something had gone to shit. Her adopted protege kept the dangerous kind at bay. Namely, other vampires. There wasn't a vampire in the city she wasn't aware of, if they crossed her city without making themselves known she stabbed them in the face. They had the choice to reveal themselves, or die. Mostly die. Being infected tended to make baby vampires arrogant and ballsy. They tended to make her stabby and murdery. Heat rolled from above the doors in the hangar, closing as the plane was pulled in. She'd stepped to the side in the first floor office, pouring herself a drink. *npc* Toby is babysitting two rogues. "Fucking kill them already," answer was disinterested. "I just spent way too long listening to bullshit, rogues can go in a ditch." Yes, she'd promised not to do that anymore. It was her discretion. There were more popping up lately than the Executioner had time to deal with. Scratch that. She didn't feel like constantly flying out to shitstorm L.A. to pick him up. They were rogue, they were toast. Ahanu shook her head, the formidable woman pulling her hood down on her coat. The tiny vampire did the same. This was not going to be a good night. Coat slid from her arms and Ahanu took it to hang up. Winter white wool turtleneck sweater was smoothed, hair immaculate, narrowed eyes watching the woman as she picked up her cognac and followed Ahanu to the mechanical room. Toby was babysitting two middle aged wannabe commandos. Malnourished, beat to hell. They'd put up a fight. *npc* They were sniffing around the south fence. The irritated Viceroy reached and pulled Ahanu's sidearm from her leg holster, firing three concussive shots in succession and handed it back to her. Knee, knee, not knee. The asshole hissed at her, a high pitched squeal twisted into the animalistic growl. She put her hand out and Ahanu placed it in her hand again. One in the forehead. She approached the second, gun still in her hand. Swallow of cognac preceded the narrowing of the viper's immaculately lined eyes. "I'm hungry and tired. Open your fucking mouth and talk or I'll chain your ass to the east fence at seven am and burn your skin off. Then we'll bring you in, and do it again the next morning. I don't have time for your bullshit." The story between stammers and obstinate blubbering was one she didn't want to hear. Glamis had given her insight, and now this clusterfuck was in her back yard. Handing the gun back to Ahanu, she finished her drink. "Put him in the hole, call ARMA. I want to meet with someone tomorrow. Whoever is in this shit neck deep, lie if you have to in order to get them here. I'm going to sleep." With that she made her way to the upstairs luxury loft of the hangar. This was snowballing into giant headache. Of course, very few in ARMA knew of her kind, and she was content to just let the magic chasing idiots beat the crap out of each other as long as it didn't rock the stability of her area. Now rogue vamps were jumping into the mix? They needed to be ripped to shreds. That shit didn't happen on her watch. She had to clue in the new guard that there were worse things out there that could rain down hell other than humans fucking around with magic. Namely, her. Whatever "threat" was making factions piss their pants, hadn't locked horns with her yet.
  15. Eris London

    Nighttime is Playtime

    She drew a long breath of the air; there was a sense of peace with everything so muted at a distance, even more so the higher she flew and the further the lights were on the horizon. This was as close as she got to nirvana in the concrete jungle. There were times she would perch on top of a building in the dark for hours in silence, only to resent having to shut herself back in her compound like a hermit. Times like this were her escape from a self-inflicted, necessary prison. Dark lashes blinked at his change in demeanor. Everyone had a face for the world, and a face for themselves. Theirs had just tangled for a short moment in the universe of time, both chained to something they didn’t necessarily want but were obliged out of honor and duty to maintain. The return of a smile was oddly enough welcomed. "I wouldn't be all that surprised, honestly. Although I am a slight bit more agile than the car you tossed through my walls." “To be fair, it was a well-aimed shove,” the quirked upward smirk of the corner of her lip was obstinately amused. "I think we have a lot to talk about. But not tonight." Nod acknowledged the inevitability; quiet attention definitely noted he was spotting himself. Trying to figure out where he was? Interesting but not surprising. "Mind telling me more of what you had in mind on the way back to your hangar?" “About knocking you on your behind or my plans to take over the world with you as my sidekick?” It was delivered with such a deadpan expression, the silent humor was evident… then reverent for his quiet distaste at the upcoming return to reality. "I should be getting back to the club.” “No more hooky, for either of us,” she was already moving toward her sleek machine, hopping to grab the Jesus handle with feline grace and slide herself back into her favorite chair in the world. “Always in charge, but never able to truly do what you want.” Rhythmic clicks across the panels started, the order, execution and double check satiating an OCD need for control. “Or we could just, disappear." She was only half joking, she needed to find somewhere out of the city that was only hers. Later. The power up of the engine hummed in the night air, glance cast in his direction... still deciding whether this rabbit hole was one she wanted to jump into and if being visible in the social circle of the city was a good idea. She had to gather allies, but she hated people. Calloway had chastised her readily for that every chance he got, and was loud about his disagreement with her being appointed to this position. Dick. Maybe she would knock him out of his position someday. She watched the Were a moment, headset sliding on and mic flipped down. "Home it is."


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