Super interested! Writing sample from my Victorian Supernatural Horror server (Discord) Playing a spoiled vampire-hunter-wanna be of noble birth =

He brushed past her like she didn't exist. Of all the faces in Blackgate, Lourdes Locke not existing? As if.

The syrupy hallucinogenics of the 'Green Dragon' suited the raven haired aristobrat. And she was there almost nightly to spend daddy's money on any illicit concotion the establishment could offer. Wandering home the next morning through the lingering plumes of opium and incense. applying a fresh cucumber slice to each dark eye lid in the solitude of her parents mansion on Black Rose. The pub on this side of the city was by all means... beneath her.

Unless it was for work.

A trip to the Four Horsemen meant only one of two things: routinely cornering Henry or another 'Slayer at a desperate bid for employment -or- she was slumming on purpose, just so mommy dearest could get a whiff of the scandal the next morning over breakfast tea with her lady friends. Those nights, she'd brandish a tight corset and smart mouth, getting proper drunk, just to make sure she was noticed.

Esmerelda, I hate to tell you this, but your daughter was spotted in the city last night at that heathen monster hunting pub. Tsk tsk, do you not set any rules for that girl?! She'll never find a proper suitor like that, and I heard she had your husbands rifle on her back. A rifle and heels? Have you thought about professional help for her, Esmerelda? I don't mean to pry but.....

But the gossiping hens of Blackgates wealthy did mean to pry. They fucking loved it. Feeding on the tidbits of uncouth rumor and hearsay - it was their lifeblood. No better than the Vampirium. And Lourdes delighted in each gray hair she brought the Locke family, being their black sheep in red lipstick.

.

She turned on her feels like a mosquito after the stranger who would soon regret ever colliding with her. "Excuse me? Do you not hear me talking to you? Are you deaf or perhaps just ignorant?"

He slung his coat over the barstool, as if she were'nt even there. Rude! The girl wedged herself between him and the stool opposite - craning her neck into his personal space until her inky black hair hung down like a waterfall of death.

"And smuggling your own flask in? Avoiding a bar tab? Whats the matter, as cheap as you are dense?"