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is it always in the blood
Oct. 7th, 2022 08:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sanguinate[ The royal line of the Vilebloods has above all endured. Through the crusades of the ancient Healing Church, the fall into endless, freezing night, and the rise of a city born from ashes, the line remains. New Yarnam and its grimy sprawl is not so different from the grand city that once stood in its place. The jagged jut of skyscrapers overlooking the city's glittery sprawl echoes the grand cathedrals of a prior age.
As above, so below — the ruling powers of New Yarnam gaze down from those neon-lit towers; instead of clerics, mega-corporations tug at the web of influence. Cainhurst Corporation has regained everything the Vilebloods once lost and its lab facilities occupy the tallest of the towers at the heart of the city.
Once, the Vileblood line was nearly wiped out — but not entirely, and Yoru, prince heir of the line was bred to rule.
Ruling as a Vileblood doesn't come without its dirty work, though. There are some secrets only the executives can be privy to, and when something goes wrong, it falls to one of the direct line to clean up.
The technophage sweeping the city isn't Cainhurst's mess. No, Cainhurst has been profiting off it nicely, courtesy of their ancient blood. It's entirely too easy to gain market share when you offer the only viable cure to an epidemic, and the lights in Cainhurst's labs never go out, staff producing the hottest of designer delivery systems for vaccines and relief agents around the clock.
The mesh that allows a semi-benevolent infection has proven the most popular product so far, and only five percent of users have had breakthrough to the point the phage completely ravished their minds.
The key to that cure is one of Cainhurst's most vital secrets, though. And when that cure steals itself away in the middle of broad daylight, no one but the Vileblood's top generals can be trusted to retrieve it.
Trusted, but failed over and over again, until Cainhurst's tech was dangerously close to becoming out of date. And now, finally, Yoru has gotten his way; the hunt is his.
For someone of his skill, retrieval should have been easy. Instead, Yoru finds himself crossing blades with the curebearer another time, the clash of plasteel wracking down his arms. There should have been no need to tap into the ambient networks, and yet Yoru finds himself reaching deeper and deeper, pulling more and more from the free-floating data. There's something wrong with one of the server farms he's accessed — something oily and viscous and burning — but he doesn't have time to worry about it, not when he's barely keeping his throat from being slit on the sharp edge of the curebearer's sword.
Still, he grits out: ] Surrender. You are property of Cainhurst Corporation.
As above, so below — the ruling powers of New Yarnam gaze down from those neon-lit towers; instead of clerics, mega-corporations tug at the web of influence. Cainhurst Corporation has regained everything the Vilebloods once lost and its lab facilities occupy the tallest of the towers at the heart of the city.
Once, the Vileblood line was nearly wiped out — but not entirely, and Yoru, prince heir of the line was bred to rule.
Ruling as a Vileblood doesn't come without its dirty work, though. There are some secrets only the executives can be privy to, and when something goes wrong, it falls to one of the direct line to clean up.
The technophage sweeping the city isn't Cainhurst's mess. No, Cainhurst has been profiting off it nicely, courtesy of their ancient blood. It's entirely too easy to gain market share when you offer the only viable cure to an epidemic, and the lights in Cainhurst's labs never go out, staff producing the hottest of designer delivery systems for vaccines and relief agents around the clock.
The mesh that allows a semi-benevolent infection has proven the most popular product so far, and only five percent of users have had breakthrough to the point the phage completely ravished their minds.
The key to that cure is one of Cainhurst's most vital secrets, though. And when that cure steals itself away in the middle of broad daylight, no one but the Vileblood's top generals can be trusted to retrieve it.
Trusted, but failed over and over again, until Cainhurst's tech was dangerously close to becoming out of date. And now, finally, Yoru has gotten his way; the hunt is his.
For someone of his skill, retrieval should have been easy. Instead, Yoru finds himself crossing blades with the curebearer another time, the clash of plasteel wracking down his arms. There should have been no need to tap into the ambient networks, and yet Yoru finds himself reaching deeper and deeper, pulling more and more from the free-floating data. There's something wrong with one of the server farms he's accessed — something oily and viscous and burning — but he doesn't have time to worry about it, not when he's barely keeping his throat from being slit on the sharp edge of the curebearer's sword.
Still, he grits out: ] Surrender. You are property of Cainhurst Corporation.
