#darkromeo

Five minutes and one, single tear. That was all Priscilla gave herself, when the news of Jack Tanner’s death rippled through Pestilence’s ranks like a dark omen. The compartmentalized act of grief and turmoil, as methodical as every other part of her life. It was a coping mechanism, wrought on by her first kill, with Ricardo’s whispered tutelage in her ear. One that she carried with her, well into her 30′s and her rank as Queen of the Underworld. It was a combative relationship, with the two Virtue’s as different as two people could be. But he was a Virtue of Pestilence, none the less, and his life was taken in cold blood. There was no love lost, but hers wasn’t a darkened heart, and she allowed herself a moment of grief. The survivor in her; however, had to take stock of it all. The daytime, reserved for her to catch up on sleep, was spent tossing and turning throughout her home. Would she be next?

After puttering around her apartment, she resolved to get her work done. Her laptop open, and wads of her take-home cash spread across her kitchen table. It’s as comforting a routine as any, counting her bills and rolling them into tight wads of cash. A calming silence in the kitchen, only to be disrupted by a loud ‘thud’ of her front door. After the instinctive reach for her hand gun, she can hear the familiar footsteps, and relinquishes her gun. “Fucking hell, Faz.” Priscilla reacts, as her Dominion all but walked into her apartment. “Remind me to take back my spare key.” She grumbles, tightening the elastic band around a roll of cash, and pressing it tightly against the kitchen table. “You hear about Jack?”