Star's End was known in RhyDin for its gleaming towers of glass and steel, a futuristic wonderland where money travelled through the air on invisible channels, vessels from thousands of worlds thundered through the skies, and hi-tech security seemed to be everywhere, protecting everything. Progress at its pinnacle... but every city had its dark side, and in addition to its seedy lower levels where drugs and murder were the order of the day, older buildings and shacks and shanties dotted the otherwise gleaming flanks of the metropolitan sprawl. The Noctis Meat Packing Plant was one such eyesore, an ugly concrete building that rose just a little higher than the shacks and warehouses around it. Too far from the waterfront to be central to anything.
Which was how the management and the workers preferred it. Noctis came to life between dusk and dawn, when light poured out of the high windows and the heavy machinery whirred and rattled. They did not lock their doors, and instead left them flung wide open, spilling a broad wedge of fluorescent light into the crumbling, poverty-stricken streets. If anyone was stupid enough to amble in through those doors at night, looking for a job or shelter or merely sating their curiosity, the workers welcomed it. They were as poor as anyone else in the area, but different: their skin was often paler, and every eye was unnaturally bright and vibrant, striking purple and fiery gold and eerie red. They were the undead, the most destitute and desperate variety, forced to feed on cold animals' blood because they had been careless and were too ruthlessly hunted for their sins, or covenless and masterless, or simply too young and weak to survive in cities marked by the surprising strength and power of many of its residents.
They worked in silence, sometimes pausing to suck at a stray pool or spatter of coagulating blood, while one physically ordinary man observed from a catwalk up above. He had ordinary eyes and skin, his teeth were straight, no sharper than any omnivore's, and he watched everything dressed in a very fine suit that managed to stay clean of the place's blood and filth, and clutched a wooden cane with a sharp, angular silver cap. He was mortal, and he felt no fear.
The building had been amazingly easy to find, people seemed to know about it but not want anything to do with it. So it was with some ease and a smile that the redhead stepped into the building wearing black leather pants, a white tank top, and a leather coat, black biker boots stepping into the filth on the floor. First she looked down with a grimace, then she looked around the room, her eyes finally falling on that mortal man. She showed no fear as she waited, she knew she was stronger and older than any of those in the building.
For a few moments, work stopped, and when they smelled Kate's blood most resumed as they had been before. But the tension on the factory floor had heightened, and as the mortal man descended the treacherous and rusty stairs, two of the vampires close to the door stepped out in front of Kate. They looked at one another, then her, and snarled a territorial warning.
She set one hand on her hip as she rolled her eyes, "Relax boys, I"m not here to kill anyone, I just need to talk to someone." Nodding toward the man coming down the stairs. "Besides I could take you." It wasn't often she was seen like this but tonight was one of those occasions.
They exchanged another look, and they were likely going to pounce when the approaching man spoke: "Now what have I told you about the rules." Their eyes narrowed, they knew what this overstepped boundary meant, and they turned with the lithe agility of any decent vampire, but somehow the man was faster... or he had long since learned how to read and anticipate the moves of a faster creature, a handy skill in the realm of RhyDin. He ducked an attempted bite, grabbed the offending vampire around the neck and plunged an enormous syringe into a throbbing vein. With a mechanical hiss the complex syringe began to do its own work, drawing out the being's blood in condensed form as he stood there, twitching.
The other lunged only a moment later, and again the gentleman ducked under the attacks and knocked his cane into the vampire's craw. A small silver blade extended, piercing his heart, and in a flurry of bright flame he turned to dust. Suddenly the other workers, especially those who had been staring, began working faster. The mortal man yanked the syringe out, the remaining attacker collapsed, and he smiled pleasantly at the woman before him as another vampire approached to take the syringe from his hand, and drag the limp creature away.
"My apologies, miss. You see, sometimes my livestock can be... unruly."
She'd watched, looking bored, her face blank, free of any emotion. "It happens with the younger set." Now that he was closer she looked him over, eyes moving from head to toe. "Obviously you're in charge." She didn't introduce herself.
"In charge, at least, of what I suspect you to be after." He inclined his head politely.
A slow smile spread across her lips as she nodded, "Yes, I need someone taken care of." Leap right in, that's how Kate had always worked.
I must warn you, we are rather overbooked this season... but I shall see what we can do." He opened a latex-gloved hand for her hand to continue. "Please, tell me all about it. Inasmuch as you are willing, of course, miss."
"He is a complication that has somehow entered my life and the lives of my friends, he's dragged all of us into death, kidnapping, and war. He was responsible for the kidnapping and torture of one of my friends children. I wish to cut off the head of the snake, get him out of our lives, for good. He's rather well protected though. Comensation would reflect the difficulty of the work." There was no emotion as she spoke, just the facts ma'am. "I cannot do it myself as he believes we are friendly and I'd rather his supporters be focused elsewhere."
The man's smile took an apologetic turn. "It sounds like more than we are able to devote our resources to at the moment, but please, miss... who is this man?"
"Alain DeMuer." Oh she looked so disappointed, dejected even. "I appreciate your time." With a nod she turned to go.
"...DeMuer, you say?" he hissed at her back, his eyes narrowed, his features suddenly snakelike, malicious and predatory. "That is so... very curious... You see, he and I are old friends."
She smiled before she tossed a glance at him over her shoulder, "There are friends and then there are friends, most think he and I are friends as well."
"I think that is something we have in common, miss... You see, my friend Alain DeMuer has hurt me as well." He gathered his long hair at the nape of his neck and turned his head, revealing a maze of scars and deformation. That he had not been paralyzed or killed by the damage was a small miracle.
"I apologize for approaching your offer with such a closed mind, miss." He let his hair drop and beckoned to her. "The death of Alain DeMuer... I am nearly willing to provide it free of charge. Come, miss... let us discuss terms."
Smiling again she turned to face him, "As long as he dies I will be happy Sir." Following him to discuss the terms of the contract.
Adapted from live play
Which was how the management and the workers preferred it. Noctis came to life between dusk and dawn, when light poured out of the high windows and the heavy machinery whirred and rattled. They did not lock their doors, and instead left them flung wide open, spilling a broad wedge of fluorescent light into the crumbling, poverty-stricken streets. If anyone was stupid enough to amble in through those doors at night, looking for a job or shelter or merely sating their curiosity, the workers welcomed it. They were as poor as anyone else in the area, but different: their skin was often paler, and every eye was unnaturally bright and vibrant, striking purple and fiery gold and eerie red. They were the undead, the most destitute and desperate variety, forced to feed on cold animals' blood because they had been careless and were too ruthlessly hunted for their sins, or covenless and masterless, or simply too young and weak to survive in cities marked by the surprising strength and power of many of its residents.
They worked in silence, sometimes pausing to suck at a stray pool or spatter of coagulating blood, while one physically ordinary man observed from a catwalk up above. He had ordinary eyes and skin, his teeth were straight, no sharper than any omnivore's, and he watched everything dressed in a very fine suit that managed to stay clean of the place's blood and filth, and clutched a wooden cane with a sharp, angular silver cap. He was mortal, and he felt no fear.
The building had been amazingly easy to find, people seemed to know about it but not want anything to do with it. So it was with some ease and a smile that the redhead stepped into the building wearing black leather pants, a white tank top, and a leather coat, black biker boots stepping into the filth on the floor. First she looked down with a grimace, then she looked around the room, her eyes finally falling on that mortal man. She showed no fear as she waited, she knew she was stronger and older than any of those in the building.
For a few moments, work stopped, and when they smelled Kate's blood most resumed as they had been before. But the tension on the factory floor had heightened, and as the mortal man descended the treacherous and rusty stairs, two of the vampires close to the door stepped out in front of Kate. They looked at one another, then her, and snarled a territorial warning.
She set one hand on her hip as she rolled her eyes, "Relax boys, I"m not here to kill anyone, I just need to talk to someone." Nodding toward the man coming down the stairs. "Besides I could take you." It wasn't often she was seen like this but tonight was one of those occasions.
They exchanged another look, and they were likely going to pounce when the approaching man spoke: "Now what have I told you about the rules." Their eyes narrowed, they knew what this overstepped boundary meant, and they turned with the lithe agility of any decent vampire, but somehow the man was faster... or he had long since learned how to read and anticipate the moves of a faster creature, a handy skill in the realm of RhyDin. He ducked an attempted bite, grabbed the offending vampire around the neck and plunged an enormous syringe into a throbbing vein. With a mechanical hiss the complex syringe began to do its own work, drawing out the being's blood in condensed form as he stood there, twitching.
The other lunged only a moment later, and again the gentleman ducked under the attacks and knocked his cane into the vampire's craw. A small silver blade extended, piercing his heart, and in a flurry of bright flame he turned to dust. Suddenly the other workers, especially those who had been staring, began working faster. The mortal man yanked the syringe out, the remaining attacker collapsed, and he smiled pleasantly at the woman before him as another vampire approached to take the syringe from his hand, and drag the limp creature away.
"My apologies, miss. You see, sometimes my livestock can be... unruly."
She'd watched, looking bored, her face blank, free of any emotion. "It happens with the younger set." Now that he was closer she looked him over, eyes moving from head to toe. "Obviously you're in charge." She didn't introduce herself.
"In charge, at least, of what I suspect you to be after." He inclined his head politely.
A slow smile spread across her lips as she nodded, "Yes, I need someone taken care of." Leap right in, that's how Kate had always worked.
I must warn you, we are rather overbooked this season... but I shall see what we can do." He opened a latex-gloved hand for her hand to continue. "Please, tell me all about it. Inasmuch as you are willing, of course, miss."
"He is a complication that has somehow entered my life and the lives of my friends, he's dragged all of us into death, kidnapping, and war. He was responsible for the kidnapping and torture of one of my friends children. I wish to cut off the head of the snake, get him out of our lives, for good. He's rather well protected though. Comensation would reflect the difficulty of the work." There was no emotion as she spoke, just the facts ma'am. "I cannot do it myself as he believes we are friendly and I'd rather his supporters be focused elsewhere."
The man's smile took an apologetic turn. "It sounds like more than we are able to devote our resources to at the moment, but please, miss... who is this man?"
"Alain DeMuer." Oh she looked so disappointed, dejected even. "I appreciate your time." With a nod she turned to go.
"...DeMuer, you say?" he hissed at her back, his eyes narrowed, his features suddenly snakelike, malicious and predatory. "That is so... very curious... You see, he and I are old friends."
She smiled before she tossed a glance at him over her shoulder, "There are friends and then there are friends, most think he and I are friends as well."
"I think that is something we have in common, miss... You see, my friend Alain DeMuer has hurt me as well." He gathered his long hair at the nape of his neck and turned his head, revealing a maze of scars and deformation. That he had not been paralyzed or killed by the damage was a small miracle.
"I apologize for approaching your offer with such a closed mind, miss." He let his hair drop and beckoned to her. "The death of Alain DeMuer... I am nearly willing to provide it free of charge. Come, miss... let us discuss terms."
Smiling again she turned to face him, "As long as he dies I will be happy Sir." Following him to discuss the terms of the contract.
Adapted from live play