[Ghastly Ranch] a bloody era in time ;; intro

[Cobra]

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This ain't no place for no better man -

it was high time they took the thrown after what their father did to them and their siblings. though, to be frank, this was more about themself and their baby sister. this was revenge for them, as night meant nothing to him. that was just another loose end and traitor to deal with later. they would handle things as they felt was right. though, the brute would never be able to face their home after this, they could start their own home.

they were soaked in blood, fitting for them really, as they set to work. some members helping them out as their numbers grew. each day stretching on as the ranch came together. the vampiric beast did not thank those that helped them. why should they? weeks of work in trade for the right to live in their realm? this was all the thanks these lost souls needed.

father was dead. sister was missing. night needed to be ripped apart. blood had no time to thank the common folk. though, a few did catch their eye. if you lot live long enough, you might be moved up in the ranks. the only sort of kind words spoken from the monster they all would know as their leader. sure they were a monster, but their people would always be accepted and safe here.

always. well, as long as they all listened to the few rules blood had. which, frankly, was not a lot of rules.

speaking

[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[SirDio]

The domestic feline snorted at Blood's words, stopping what she was doing, which wasn't anything important, to stare at the lion. Magnolia was a moonshine maker and merchant, hard-earned wealth came from working her ass off. Even if she was somehow dragged into working for this beast, as long as it paid somehow, she would be fine. Let it be a killing floor, it didn't matter.

With a sharp grin covered by her veil, she spoke. "Well, boss, jus' don't make it too hard on us. Plenty of us 'ave been workin' our asses off fer this place." Her hind feet stamped on the group for a second, but she made no movement otherwise.

[Cobra]

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This ain't no place for no better man -

the response gained a smirk. head turning to look the female over. she was, in fact, right. the brute offered a soft chuff of amusement. they had to respect the response, really. no plans to work anyone to hard. not yet, at least. it was a rather friendly joke. or, well, as friendly as a joke from them could be.

speaking

[sub][W]isker[/sub]

[The Tombs]

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[div style="margin-bottom: 4px; height: auto; font-family: baskerville; font-size: 26px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; color: white;"]IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT

ACTIONS | "SPEAKING" | THINKING | TELEPATHY

Home.

He spent what felt like eons searching for a place to call his own. Here, he would find it — a piece of land to assign his own name to within the confines of the Ghastly Ranch's fences. But this home would not be without its downsides. The group as a whole was isolated enough from the rest of the Beyond, sure, but how would he fair with the denizens of the Ranch themselves? He hadn't worked with them long enough to determine if they were better partners or parasites, but the majority of their first impressions weren't unimpressive. At the very least, he figured that these humble beginnings wouldn't be the worst to deal with.

Del listened to their Mayor's words promising a potential promotion for all who survive long enough on the Ranch, and a soft snort erupted from him. Interesting words, though with the experience he had, it all meant very little to the shepherd. The ranching lifestyle was all that Delgado Byrne knew, from birth to his inevitable death. What would make this place any different? "Don't care for no promotion, s'long's I got a roof over my head," the canine drawled as he adjusted the brown hat resting upon his skull that protected his fading vision from the powerful summer sun. This was his first time being a part of one of these groups; he had lived in a far less rigid farming community for the rest of his life. Did a title matter that much in one of these? That felt confusing to him, though perhaps it was a custom he would have to adjust to.

He continued to make his way over to where the vampiric lion and the much smaller feline were gathered, discussing the workload that would be put upon the group. He didn't really care what the work would look like, especially since the Ranch was just now setting up shop. At the end of the day, he was a natural workhorse, typically keeping to his preferred ranching but willing to expand to other fields if need be — which, of course, would be necessary in the Ranch's infancy stages. Which further begged the question — "Assumin' yer idea of work ain't 'sit on yer ass 'n' watch paint dry', what's the first order of business here, Blood?" Icy blue eyes now settled upon the dark-pelted lion, awaiting the great beast's next command. Surely there was something to get done around here.

bio — attack in #69a1d3

#psy.