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Another new city! This wasn't new for Raksha and in fact, many would think she was a gypsy with as often as she moved from city to city even though she was far from a gypsy. In her own mind and right, she was a Queen and hell in one city, she played the role of a Queen well. She had followers and her favorite pets were her plagued rats but news traveled to her about an unusual city in Canada called Harper Rock. There were beasties that you would only hear in books, horror films, or films for tweens to make them feel like being a sparkling vampire was a dream. She snorted at the thought that if vampires were real, they sure as hell wouldn't sparkle. Who in the hell even thought of such a thing...Oh yeah...the chick that wrote the books. Laughable!! Absolutely laughable!

Shaking her head as she stepped off the plane. There was a hotel not far according to her GPS but she definitely had a desire to purchase a home as soon as possible. Hotel living wasn't really the life unless you had one of those amazing suites or was the owner. Only major perk was that someone cleaned your room for you but who knows what they would steal while you were away. Owning her own home was the plan so she could control who came and went while monitoring what they took; if they took anything.

It didn't take long for her to check into the hotel, get unpacked and settled in because she really wanted to explore the horrors of this interesting city that she heard so much about. Honestly, Raksha hasn't ever heard of Harper Rock before and it was almost like a shroud had been lifted for the world to see. Then there were all of the interesting creatures that apparently made their home here and that was more than enough to drawn her interest. Putting the last piece of clothing in the dresser and storing her luggage in the closet, it was time to take an adventure around this crazy place. Grabbing her gun and putting it the holstered belt that hung around her waist before rushing out the door.

Exiting the hotel, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried to memorize the different smells. It was almost musty and filled with metallic scent of blood with the side gun powder and shoe polish. Opening her eyes she nodded as she took note of a soldier near by and that explained the gun powder and shoe polish. Giving him a slight nod as she stuck the map that she had grabbed from the front desk into her back pocket. Tonight she was going to get lost and use the map only if she needed to. That was the only way she found to actually get to know a city was to get lost in it with no one to help you get out. Taking a step off the sidewalk, Raksha decided that she was going to cut through the park.

The park was a bit calmer than the streets with the occasional soldier that would pass by. Perking her brow as she turned as she walked to watch a soldier as he passed. Turning back around, she shook her head. It seemed a bit excessive when she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. It was possible that the rumors were just rumors. Chuckling to herself at the ridiculous rumors that had made it across the world to her ears and everyone else's for that matter that was willing to listen.

The park wasn't as large as she would have hoped but the lake was beautiful. Sighing as she continued on her little adventure for the evening. Stopping at a sign as she came up to what seemed like a new district in the city. Tilting her head as she read out loud. "Wickbridge..." Nodding her head as she passed by a train station and stopped as what seemed like a zombie was two doors down. "Okay...so at least one rumor is true. Time to have some fun." Pulling her gun out of the holster and ran toward the zombie. Cocking the gun to load a bullet in the chamber, she let off a few rounds before the zombie crumbled to the ground. Taking a moment to loot the body, she stood up and replaced the gun while smirking to herself. "Okay...I think I might like it here."

Harper Rock had never been her end game.

Marisol had wanted to travel the world, to never quite settle down. She wanted riches, she wanted the chance to follow her dreams. But, it had never come to pass. She had never been able to travel without conflict with the deportation of vampires if caught, although she flew private and could be modified through hacking. Yes, it was tricky and yes, it could be difficult when soldiers checked things over, but people could be bought. Everyone, eventually, answered to the all mighty dollar and with the virus sweeping over the nation, it certainly did more talking than their orders when combined with a sultry smirk and soft, meaningless flirtation.

It had all changed when she met him. Of course, Marisol never meant her sire. Jesse Fforde had been the second man to draw her desires to a crumbling halt, but Logan Sanders had been the first. The worst. His serial killer tendencies had rubbed off on the woman, although it had since balanced off for the need to merely feed. Marisol didn’t feed off her victims. She left them for others to find, strung up. They weren’t masterpieces, as her former master called them, but monstrosities. There was no fancy title that the papers had given her, no attention had been thrown her way in a dying town where so little cared about their consequences. She supposed that, in itself, had been what drawn Marisol from her homes in New York, from London.

Harper Rock was a place of opportunity, but what kind of opportunity?

“The undead kind, of course.”

Marisol muttered under her breath, ignoring the look of confusion that her employee, Sonja, gave her. The woman didn’t look too surprised, Marisol talked to herself often. “I’m going for coffee.” She pushed herself out from behind her desk, her long hair falling over her shoulders. The scent of her almond perfume and shampoo hovered around her, a hum of expressiveness slipping past the brunette. As she dug her phone free, she sent Charlie a gif of a bat falling from a branch. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor loudly, a sign of impatience, as she brought her billfold with her and headed for the door.

In the weeks of her return, she had been surprised to see that the office hadn’t been looted, destroyed like so many of the others. The main office had survived, and the acquisition of a second location in Waadasi had been an accomplished move, really.

Eventually, she knew they would have to leave Wickbridge and relocate, and with the virus spreading, there would likely be an influx of the zombies stumbling around the streets. Even Marisol, not particularly interested in a fight until one started it, still carried - a small pistol was tucked away at the waistband of her jeans in a holster. She had a knife in her boot. Between the bloody cops and the ignorant soldiers that continued on treating vampires as if they were less than trash, she didn’t have much choice.

Twice, she had gotten a blow to the face.

Once, Marisol had nearly gotten one of their chips in her arm.

It had only been the ability she’d been blessed with as an allurist to cast confusion upon the soldier had allowed her to escape without. Putting her hands in her pockets, she rounded the corner and continued into the street. There was a cafe still open, despite the global crisis, despite the vampire quarantine, despite everything, that still catered to vampires - although, she supposed it helped to know that the owner was a vampire, too.

Halfway down the way, Marisol had just passed the transit system before there was an echo of a gunshot that made the vampiress jump. “Oi! Christ, people are walking this way still. ******* imbecile.” She called, louder than necessary. Harper Rock. New York. Add zombies to the latter, and you’d have no difference. You still had gun toting morons running around, the difference was, in Harper Rock the law enforcement fell under the same category. It was as she heard another round of shots that she moved her hand subconsciously to the butt of her gun. She spotted the dark haired human, a sigh escaping past her lips as she muttered something about, “Tourists."

As the sweet sound of a woman called out toward her, insulting her ears, Raksha turned and glared at the woman with her hand behind her back. Dark eyes moved over the woman and took note that one hand was behind her back which was an unusual stance from anyone that was normal unless they were about to attack. A fired lit in her eyes as she took steps towards the woman. She did take notice that even in casual dress, she was well put together. High society maybe?

This was the first person she had encountered since she arrived other than airport attendants and the those that worked the hotel. Raksha had a feeling that she was going to get into a lot of trouble if the first real person not doing their job was nearly shouting at her. "There was a zombie. It seemed only natural to relieve it of it's misery or do people just let them wander about all willy nilly?" This could go one of two ways. She would be met with courtesy and she make a friend or it ended in trouble and either of them would die.

As the distance was closed between the two, Raksha stopped a mere two steps away from the woman that had addressed her. Time would tell which path would be taken but she accepted her past and her actions. Neither she would ask forgiveness for as she didn't hold any regrets. Tilting her head as she looked over the woman once more and spoke with a steady voice, lack of fear. "Are we going to have a problem?"

If one would have called Marisol Belmonte a people person, she would have laughed. There was a significant difference between being one who enjoyed others, and being charismatic and polite. She liked her people, with a few questionable instances of tolerance. Between dishonesty and betrayals, she had never really been someone with many sincere friends until after death. Growing up in her scene, she’d always been one with acquaintances and with connections where things could benefit her. Her parents had made sure to introduce her to the right people, her agent placing her in the path of success. Thinking back to it, Marisol could remember where it had been recommended where she met Logan. The thought made her mood sour.

Her golden brown colored eyes looked at the woman that she’d yelled towards. It was the first time she’d actually properly seen her. Pretty. Colorful. She admired the art that decorated her flesh until the scent of blood washed over her. Fresh, warm, human. Humans, she’d learned early, had a particularly enjoyable scent she couldn’t compare to food; they had their own scents that mixed from culture to culture. Unlike most, she was still able to partake in consuming foods, but drinking straight from the vein could be euphoric. “It doesn't matter how much you try to kill them, another two appears in their place within Harper Rock’s Quarantine Zone.” She glanced towards the fallen bodies. Felt the aching of her began to fall into place as her eyes found the steady beat of a pulse against the curve of her throat as she walked forward.

There was a chuckle that didn’t quite reach her throat. A rumbling sound akin that would be registered as amusement. Annoyance, anger. The tips of her fangs past her nude painted lips. They glittered dangerously as she felt her pride settle in. “I suppose that’ll only depend on you.” Marisol’s smirk revealed her nature. Even with the soldiers that lingered around, she felt no concern as she reached for her throat quickly in attempt to apply pressure to her skin. “Because I haven’t fed you and you look like my next meal for being in the wrong place.”

There was suddenly a crazy look that appeared in the woman's eyes. It was almost like a wild hunger raging within. Almost like what you would see when some basic white girl was hangry and you walked close enough with a muffin, chances were that you would lose that muffin. Raksha was feeling as if she was that muffin in the scenario. As she spoke, it still had that soft sing-song tone while talking about the zombies. "Well they can't always come back. If enough people put in some effort, they would eventually die off, right?"

What Raksha didn't expect was that this woman before her, was checking her out but not in a manner that was seductive. It was just her throat area that had her attention and Raksha's brow perked. The trouble depended on her the woman said and yet she caught the glitter of her fangs as they broke passed those soft lips. Huh, interesting. Tilting her head as she focused on the fangs. "Huh...so the rumors are true." Her eyes looked around at the soldiers that hadn't minded their interaction just yet and wondered if they even would but this woman was alluring and had her attention. She was one of the man reasons that she had come to this town to see if what she had heard was true.

Raksha was good at keeping her accent under control but now that the woman was in close, fangs to her neck, there was a semblance of anger that filled her that made her Russian accent stand out. "Maybe you should have fed before you left the house." A low growl slipped from her as she ended the phrase and put her arms up on Marisol's shoulders to try and push her off. Knowing that she was a vampire gave Raksha the knowledge that she didn't have a chance or strength to fight her off but she would try. Trying to push against the woman in hopes that her petite frame would give her an advantage but as she gave the attempt, she knew that she was out matched. Fear began to set in as she hated being over powered. That was one thing she always made sure never happened so she trained with the best that she could find because she feared being a victim. However, she realized that she hadn't trained enough.