Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)Vermilion Skies
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2017
| XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX | It wasn’t meant to be this way. The world was supposed to be on the precipice for great and terrible things. But the terrible happened just a little too soon for humanity’s convenience. The solar flare had been predicted for years, with astrologists and others calculated how it would impact Earth. But little had they realized of the sheer intensity it provided, and the calamity that ensued. The solar flare brought about violent superstorms and various coronal mass ejections; when the explosive force from the Sun emanated onto the planet’s surface, ten million people were killed instantly. The resulting chaos painted the skies red like blood, and falling emissions of heat devastated the major countries. The people panicked, the leaders of world nations tried to find a way to survive from this destruction. All of the largest, most developed, civilizations were destroyed and completely destabilized the entire globe. After the fall of western civilization as they knew it, society regrouped in a variety of vastly different post-cataclysmic facets. Some devolved into lawless societies where the only rule was that the strongest were meant to survive, and the weakest were meant to shrivel into nothingness. Years had passed, and the resulting societal climate had changed drastically Lazarus Rhodes had not yet examined the succinct ramifications of the solar radiation that had nearly wiped out the human race some odd years ago. After the initial coronal purge that devastated the planet’s ionosphere and set fire to the continents, few could process the damage, the hopelessness. There were new divisions in the landscape; large, twisted cityscapes juxtaposed with wide, expanded desert wastelands. The remains of New York had been fought over and renamed Tangent, and it provided a massive new central hub for the world as it was now. Strong night winds bustled over the dark scape, as the residents of Tangent formed many different collective quotients. You had your useless vagabonds, so wracked from the solar flare incident that they had little to their name to stay warm. See, because of the Sun’s devastation, the weather scheme had been so royally fucked up, you could not predict the rain, the snow, the intense heat, anything. So those very same vagrants held onto their ripped and torn sweaters, huddled up around small dumpsters lit with fire from random trash and paper scraps. It also brought about a very curious development -- the emergence of supernatural creatures. Who knows how long they had been hiding, or if the incident brought them along, but whatever the case, the denizens of the dark came out in full force. There were attacks of vampires, werewolves, and even demonic creatures that couldn’t quite be classified as demons. The current police force, the Augments, had their hands full whenever there was a case of one of their acts of predation. More importantly, one particular vigilante had become an object of their curiosity and their discontent, that being a serial killer and rapist looming the streets. Dressed in all black and wielding terrible, mysterious, and haunting abilities, the creature had shot up to number one on their list. Hunger had become an obsession as of late for many; whether it was a byproduct of the darker spring times, or another causeless anomaly in the city seemed irrelevant. Vampires and shifters, shifters and vampires, masters and slaves, whatever specificity didn't matter so much as the central point. That everyone had their own hungers, their own vices. Expressed in different ways. And yet, the supernatural were considered monsters. Monsters that needed to be killed off, completely. This new world couldn’t afford the taxing lethargy of letting threats run around with impudence, especially not when the population was slowly trying to regain to prominence. Lazarus, of course, felt that tug every now and then. The resistance of humans against this seemingly harmful threat. Though the reality painted a far more complicated scene, there were many that sought to profit off of this dysfunction. Including him. Before the calamity that befell the world, Lazarus operated as a prime businessman for the largest pharmaceutical company out there, the formerly known as Virgo Industries. He also worked with leading scientists from all over the world to help with discovering how to best combat resistant viruses and bacteria. Of course, as a demon, he couldn’t have simply done that for a living. No, he dabbled in all manners of illegal and downright dangerous affairs. Prostitution, trafficking, drugs, anything, you name it, the devilish character relished in it. Subverting humanity for his own nefarious ends. But he was not Lazarus Rhodes, the scientist, the businessman, the visionary. At this current moment, he was the terrorist-serial rapist, black-masked figure that the current authorities could not identify in the slightest. Three men, each of them bigger than the last. The supposed leader of the trio decked himself with tattoo sleeves running down the length of his massive arms. They had each cornered a young woman deep in a dark alley, managing to surround her with brick and steel from adjacent buildings. The woman seemed ordinary enough, but upon peeling through the superficial layers, there was something...dark there. Barely hiding beneath the surface, the essence of demonic lineage, which caught him highly off-guard, yet roused his interest like nothing before. He knew of the majority of vampires and demons in the city, but none of them had ever been able to elude his seemingly omnipresent nature. At the current moment, though, it didn't seem as if she was yet free from the trouble of three burly men. Lazarus could easily swoop in and save the day, but a far more malicious intention was made apparent when he decided to slink back into the shadows to watch. The air felt so mischievous right now, and even with the stirring of the three larger men beginning to surround their big-titted victim, Lazarus kept a curious eye on everyone in the vicinity. With the darkness of the night in full swing, the creatures beginning to tug at humanity, this huntress was only the first morsel of what was to come. Slowly, he stood up to more carefully assess the situation. Large men, seemingly part of a biker gang, wanting their fill of a seemingly poor, defenseless woman. Obviously, she was playing them for the fools they were, which garnered a significant amount of interest from the demon. If only he truly knew who and what she was hunting. “Hey baby, just be still, and it’ll all be over. We’re just gonna have some fun with your pretty ass.” The leader of the group spoke in that callously misogynistic tone, knowing full well that he had a pretty little thing right here in front of him. Though curious, he was utterly appalled at how they thought they would be able to claim his prey for their own. From the moment she came into his visage, Lazarus’s thought was to claim her for himself, to use whatever abilities she possessed for his own gain. This city belonged to him, there was little doubt about it. And it was only a matter of time before everyone else realized it. Before any of them could really make their move to react to what just happened, a duet of harpoon-like chains extended through their chest cavities, immediately spilling blood. The chains reeled back, pulling the three of them like ripcords, until they were completely hanging against the adjacent wall next to the building that he was so comfortably perched upon. It was a beautiful little sight, and to some extent, he was intrigued to see and hear what she might say about his display of horror and brutality. As he honed in on his supposed prey, something from the corner of his optics took his attention out of his session. A seemingly young woman, inked, but with all the curves that someone like him would notice. Inn that very moment, the prey that was before him, in all likelihood being his next victim, was now no more than a hearty distraction, as the black masked individual simply disappeared into the night to confront this new observation. | xxxxxxxxxxxxxx | XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX |
