I am Emiliya and My nick name is Emi. I am from Europe. I recently registered with this community. I am here to share my hobbies or interests and want to know some details about your favorite activities too. My hobby is photography and have a huge collection of natural places images. By the way, what sort of places attract you?

Nox had skipped town.  Avoided everything he had going while following him the past few months.  It was easy to stay on top of him.  Even if he wasn't exactly on top of him as he'd have liked.  But the kid was better at his job that Hayden gave him credit for. Maybe he had let down his guard and let Nox slip through his fingers.  But it didn't matter, he knew one thing he'd be heading back home.  Why?  Hayden had observed his behavior leading up to the disappearance.  Something was up -- and more so than him not wanting to do the job.

Hayden hopped the next flight to Moscow and waited for Nox and the girl to show up.  Hayden never saw Nox come back from his new apartment.  But he saw the girl through the windows often enough.  She only left once and it was enough to verify that she was there.

With a little bit of research and confirmation from his cousin, this was a new place for Nox.  He hadn't been there before.  Interesting...

It took a few days to prepare the poison.  Not because he didn't have the materials to do so, but it took a few days to find the trigger.  

This little godling that Nox referred to kill was allergic to shrimp.  Easy enough to trigger.  And Hayden had gotten the gift created and off to the Nox's apartment via courier.  Hayden watched from a nearby vantage point -- a safe house his father owned almost next door.  The irony.

The evening passed, and she kept a low profile; her usual proclivity. Neither was she idle. There were other seeds to begin planting tonight, and interactions to observe. She was amused to witness the Vasilievs had invited a wolf among them: the Syndicate leader Zixin Kao. Playing both sides as he did was a dangerous game, but Nesrin had a soft spot for the audacity.

She preferred serving in the game rooms, which offered privacy away from the music and dancing, and where ignorance was joined by loose lips. No one much noticed the servers weaving like ghosts among them so long as the drinks remained flowing. Between her shifts attending the various guests, visits to the kitchens provided a predictable and steady font for gossip. She pieced together who the English gentleman must have been because of the rumours surrounding the New York socialite in the beautiful dress, though Nesrin was more curious about her reasons for being in Moscow than the puppy trailing in her wake. In other circumstances she might have tugged on the threads of that drama, just because he’d been rude. As it was, she didn’t look for him again.

She did keep half a discrete eye on Brandon, more to watch him in his environment than anything else. To see who commandeered his time, who avoided his attention, and who watched him in turn.

And when the time came, for once Nesrin did exactly as she was told.

The suite she was directed to was extravagant, restored to what she presumed was its gaudy mid-18th century glory. When the door closed softly behind her she resisted the instinct to search out the available exits, though she doubted there were cameras watching her movements – not with the sort of privacy implied in a bedroom. She considered the frilly, canopied bed with half a raised brow and a silent smirk. Funnelling her into this room had been such a smooth and discrete operation she presumed it wasn’t an unusual request for Brandon’s people to accommodate. She wondered if he did this often; if it’s what her mother had been, an appetite of a moment, soon forgotten.

Though if that was the case, how many children might he really have? And why were none of them known?

Nerves itched her skin; a wary discomfort, for she did not like the sense of being at another’s mercy, even if it was necessary now. She banished the urge to pace the polished floors and instead found a chair in which to sit.

[[Occurs at some point during the Vasiliev ball. Continued from this post]]

Natalie wasn’t naive, but the poverty was still uncomfortable to behold in the heart of the Custody’s greatest Dominance. The church was rammed with people and bright sleeping bags, its echoey halls currently alight with industrious daytime activity. Hanging fabric partitions offered privacy, but much of the space was communal. Some way off, a man was playing guitar to the delight of those around him.

She sat with Ezekiel on floor cushions, conversing quietly. It was the first time she had met the self-styled Angel of the Undercity, and he’d been openly curious but not much surprised by her unexpected presence among them. For someone who’d chosen such an overtly pretentious title for himself, and he did seem to relish it, there was little in the way of ceremony or formality. Smoke ribboned from the joint in between his tattooed fingers, and he lounged, watching her without self-consciousness. In the lulls where Natalie’s attention naturally drifted to the cadence of guitar strings, she sometimes caught the quirk of his lips in some private amusement, the origins of which he did not share. Ezekiel was perfectly amiable; maybe a little strange. But he was also very clearly well-loved here.

Rumours had brought her; of skull-strewn skies the night the undercity had burned, when many of these people had fled their underground homes and never returned. The offer she made was tactful, presuming to find proud resistance even though she wasn’t offering charity. Beyond her bearing and accent, little distinguished her; she wore the sorts of clothes she’d always favoured in Africa, and still felt truer than the glittering face she wore for the city’s elite. But nonetheless she felt distinctly on the outside; among the forces that turned a societal blind eye to ugliness they would rather not see. Born to wealth that had never been earned.

But Ezekiel’s reception had been welcoming.

By now building renovations for the school were well underway, the fruits of that very same familial wealth. She’d told Adrian the city’s rich would pay any price to protect their daughters from the Sickness, which was true, but she’d also warned him she’d no inclination towards profit. No one who sought help would be turned away, and that necessitated an understanding of welcome among those who would never seek it out. But neither was philanthropy anything but the mask she chose for the endeavour, and amidst the steady foundations Natalie was building for herself in Moscow, it was allies that mattered to her: the skulls that had lit up the storm-filled sky, and especially the night they had happened, hinted at a story she was curious to hear.

The conversation gave her much to think about. Despite his lazy theatrics, several times she caught hints that Ezekiel was more than he seemed, and that those breadcrumbs were being tossed with purpose and not due to carelessness. Some time later, when she stood to take her leave, he flicked up an object that she caught in reflex. It was a coin, but not one that had any monetary value. In the nestle of her palm, an engraved demon grinned up at her. It matched the smirk Ezekiel himself flashed up at her when she asked what it was, but he only shrugged and called it a gift.

[[ AI Generated ]]

High-ranking government official Sheng Ch'en has been found dead in his bed, sparking speculation and raising questions about the circumstances surrounding his untimely demise. Ch'en, known for his distinguished career in public service, was discovered by his wife in their home yesterday morning.

According to initial reports, Ch'en's wife, Mrs. Liang, claimed that her husband had appeared to be in good health prior to his passing, leading authorities to suspect natural causes. However, suspicions were raised when the results of Ch'en's autopsy proved inconclusive, failing to provide a definitive explanation for his death.

Sources close to the investigation have revealed that while the autopsy did not reveal any obvious signs of foul play or underlying medical conditions, traces of unidentified substances were detected in Ch'en's system. These findings have led forensic experts to consider the possibility of a drug overdose as a potential cause of death.

Mrs. Liang has vehemently denied any suggestion of drug involvement in her husband's passing, insisting that Ch'en was in good health and had no history of substance abuse. She has adamantly maintained that her husband's death must have been the result of a tragic accident or undetected medical condition, dismissing any insinuations of foul play.

Ch'en's sudden and unexpected death has sent shockwaves through political circles, where he was widely respected for his contributions to government and public policy. As a high-ranking official, Ch'en held a position of considerable influence and was known for his dedication to serving the people of China.

[[ Note: The Atharim cleaned and covered this one up with the drug overdose autopsy report ]]

[[AI Generated]]

In a shocking turn of events, the self-proclaimed returned god, Earth God Tu Di Gong, met his demise yesterday during a demonstration of his purported divine powers. Tu Di Gong, who claimed to be the ancient deity revered in Chinese folklore, suffered a fatal heart attack while showcasing his abilities to a group of followers in Tangshan China along the Yellow Sea.

According to eyewitnesses, Tu Di Gong had gathered a crowd to witness his supposed powers of manipulating earth and controlling the elements. As he was about to showcase his abilities, he suddenly clutched his chest in agony and collapsed to the ground. Despite immediate attempts to revive him, the self-proclaimed deity could not be resuscitated and was pronounced dead at the scene.

Following his untimely death, authorities conducted an autopsy to determine the cause. The results revealed a startling discovery - Tu Di Gong had experienced a separation of the aorta from the heart, a condition known as aortic dissection. This rare and often fatal medical event occurs when there is a tear in the inner layer of the aorta, causing blood to flow between the layers and potentially leading to catastrophic consequences such as heart failure.

The news of Tu Di Gong's demise has sent shockwaves throughout the community of believers who had placed their faith in his divine powers. Many had regarded him as a figure of worship and had eagerly awaited his demonstrations, hoping to witness miracles firsthand.

However, skeptics and critics have seized upon this tragic event as evidence of the dangers of blindly following individuals who claim supernatural abilities without scientific evidence. They caution against placing unwavering trust in charismatic figures who exploit people's beliefs for personal gain.

Authorities are now urging the public to remain vigilant against fraudulent claims of divine powers and to exercise critical thinking when confronted with extraordinary assertions. As investigations into the circumstances surrounding Tu Di Gong's death continue, questions linger about the authenticity of his claims and the true nature of his demise.

In the wake of this sobering incident, the saga of Earth God Tu Di Gong serves as a cautionary tale about the perils of unchecked faith and the importance of discernment in an age of uncertainty.

Training with Eido during the day, and spending more nights in the past week with Jaxen was paying a toll on Zef's mental health.  She needed a break.  But that didn't stop her from doing either activity. They were after all relaxing in their own rights.

It was yet another fun filled rockstar of a night filled with a little vodka, a lot of sex and maybe even a relaxing shower or two. Jaxen's home didn't feel like home so every morning before training with Eido Zef slipped out of the warm bed and into her clothes while the man she'd started to enjoy more than just his body and sexual prowess slept.

The apartment was quiet, and they'd left a mess on their way to the bedroom which Zef straightened up on her way out.  She felt good, sore in all the right places and knew they'd be enjoying each others company again soon.

Zef flicked of the lights and opened the front door.  She stepped into the hall way, her heels clicking on a smooth jet black glass surface, the door behind her vanishing and the sounds of foreign currents tickled her ears.  What the fuck!

PSA: Trigger Warnings -- In this thread there will likely be mention of rape, child abuse. There will be depictions of cannibalism and torture.

After take off Nox offered an ear bud to Sae and let her choose the music and he listened.  Thankfully she liked the same things he did and it was all working out well.  He pulled down the terrarium the moment he could stand and set to pruning some smaller branches to start from scratch.  He wasn't sure when he had made up his mind, but he had and now was going to gift the pot to Raffe.  He'd made it, raised the plants himself.  That was an accomplishment in and of itself.  But Raffe liked plants.

"What are these for?"

"Help me stay calm.  Gives me something to do when I'm anxious -- like right now."

Nox trimmed a spring off each plant and wrapped them in a wet paper towel from the restroom.  Perfect for starting a new plant.  "Valerian, sage, sweet orange and bergomet. Helps with the nightmares too."

Nox busied himself with texting Sage asking about a home.  He didn't want to go Kallisti to spend even one night -- he might never leave.  But he would go back.  He wondered if his job was still there.  He never asked.  Though did he want to be a bouncer or a dancer?  Or did he want to do something different -- hunting was not a favored option.

Well that was a lie -- he had some hunting to do before he called it done.  The horde would forever be his problem to fix.  He didn't start it, but he was damn well inclined to end it all.

There was so much to do when he got back.  Hopefully one of those things was not find a place to stay.

By the time they landed, with no incidents other than a few bumps here and there, Nox was ready to be on solid land.  Sage was happily chattering away at him now that they were once again in the same timezone.  It was still relatively early.  Nox was drained and he was grateful that Sage had finalized everything for the new place -- fully furnished.  Nothing big or fancy and just off the Red Light District.  Not too far a walk from Kallisti and had a balacony with good lighting.  All great things.  Just what he wanted.

Hopefully Sage didn't do anything too bad to get him that place.  He would expect Sage to handle everything and tell him anything he needed to know.