Deep down everything she was became consumed by the idea of attaining beauty.

It was then imperative to fit in with the most elite of the neon city.
Because to be desired by strangers on the dance floor wasn’t enough.

This one wanted more, and it should come to no surprise the the richest in this city are also the most beautiful.

“SO LIKE, ARE WE GOING TO FUCK OR NOT?”

Janus’ dead eyes wrap around the poor girl and constrict her, as if pulling the words of consent from her mouth.

She can’t say no. And judging from what he’s briefly told her, she takes solace in knowing that no man or woman before her has ever had better results in restraint. 

Still, the dead eyes sadden her.   

Janus is an empty soul. 

At the moons highest hour, men of all different countries converge in the city of Sin only to black out on the very drinks they got themselves.

It’s only then that her heightened sense of smell  awakens her lust for company and a centuries old thirst. They wake up in their hotels bleeding, believing to have injured themselves as a result of drunkenness. 

Such is the life of the modern Moon Child. 
 

“I’m the keeper of secrets.” 

Painfully, I changed. Watched my family fade with the years. And then..nothing. 

Over that time, I gained wealth by stealing jewelry from those I’ve killed. We hardly ever need it hough..

From there it’s pensive loneliness. Nostalgia for living life. Madness.   

At some point I needed to feel human again, so I took up a job cocktail waitress on the Strip. 

-Zenobia 

Realized today that I’m not qualified to frame my own artwork. It’s a hot mess.

Smaller work, in the $10-50 range. So far, so good.

The only thing is that painting so small gives my hand some stress. Working on that.  

“PLEASE DON’T GET BORED OF ME” 

““Peder, August, Romao, Bryatt, Adonis, Alex, Giovanni, Kimba.”

“The man from Bartini, he chased me down. Turned me into a house cat. (Male.)”