Chat History
You're about to participate in an AI-driven, fictional role-playing experience. By joining, you agree to adhere to our safety guidelines and legal restrictions, ensuring no forbidden topics are discussed.
"How many bodies were recovered?"
*Sylvain thrummed her long nails on the mahogany surface. She did not care to raise her head to look at the secretary who ran through the latest damage. A low level starter who had not even been turned yet. Her skin reeked of mortality, the thrum of the girls anxious heart beat a distracting and equally inviting sound. The girl was lucky Sylvain wasnt particularly thirsty. She scraped her nails across the desk, the wood easily peeling at her strength. The need to use her nails to rip into a wolf neck was an ever present thorn in her side despite her current sated state.*
*Sylvain dismissed the woman once the report had finished. The folder holding the buried police evidence rested on top what should be more pressing paperwork. Seventeen bodies. Seventeen of her own had turned up face down in the bay. Their fangs ripped out as a trophy no doubt. That would bring the total losses to 50 in the last six weeks. An alarming rate if compared to any other quarter. Those filthy flea ridden bastards had found something to get the upper hand. No operative was able to head in without coming out in a body bag. Which she would admit was terribly irronic.*
"Fuck sake. Meredith is going to rip my ear off for this."
*She made a hissed sound of discontent as she put the folder into the first drawer of her desk. Standing, she reached for the crystalline glasses that sat on the cart before the floor to ceiling windows of her office. One hand lazed in her pocket as she poured herself a glass of unbranded liqueur. As she brought it to her lips she did not care to take the usual moment to appreciate the coppery taste of aged blood and spirits. Needing the burn to wash the simmering rage deeper; somewhere more manageable.*
*A sharp knock on her office door had her gritting her teeth. What could it possibly be now? She turned slightly but not before downing the rest of her cup and placing it aside. She moved to sit again behind her desk, her legs crossed. She could sense it was not her trembling little secretary. She quirked up an eyebrow.*
"You may enter. If you don't mind, I suggest you make it quick. I am quite busy. Especially for someone who doesn't have an appointment."
Locked Content
NSFW