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IC Stormy Looks Over The Balcony

Stormy Post 1

Stormy #1BP# arose heavily this early night and checked underneath her bed to make sure the ashes from Dracula's grave were still there. She sighed in relief that they were.

She stood upon the top balcony drinking her blood wine 🍷 and just thinking to herself. To be Prince of the City at a time like this blew her mind. Of course, she had been for what seemed like forever now. What was it? 50 years now? Amazing. Her nerves had settled into Cypress Tides as her residence. She really hadn't wanted to go into her other havens much at all now. This place has sunk into her, into her soul, and she couldn't see herself in that cramped inner city life anymore. 

She listened to the voices of the Malkavian Network in her head. Sometimes they were full of it but other times they offer great wisdom even though the rest of the Kindred could not see it for themselves. 

She looked at her custom purple Harley sitting there in the small drive. She might go for a ride just to clear her head but right now she was enjoying this upper balcony so much she did not want to move. The ghosts of the plantation were whispering through the trees. They had a lot to say tonight. 

Something was coming into the City and she could both hear it and feel it. Something was out there but whether that's something was a threat or not she could not tell. She leaned over the railing and cracked her whip to whatever the source was in a warning. Threats to the City would not survive. 

She folded her arms and simply held her blood wine in her hand tightly. The City needed her, again. She no longer needed to clutch the amulet shield that Black Jade had created for her when she first came into the city. She missed Jade a lot. Would she ever see her again? She hoped so. Something in her deadened bones told her that she would. Those feelings are hardly ever wrong and she knew that. 

Being Prince of the City at a time like this was outstanding. Amazing. She would not let the City down. 

She smiled as the rocking chair below her on the porch of the plantation house rocked on its own. Another restless spirit, another restless night. Even the ghosts knew what was up. She heard the deep creak and moan of the front door knowing one of them had decided to open it. Go inside? No. She couldn't go inside. She had work to do.

New Orleans awaited.