Heartthrob

Judas spit onto the concrete - grinding it in, then, with the tip of her black leather boots.

Fuckers. Fucking fuck fuckers. She felt like she was losing some of her eloquence for even having been embroiled in all this... for even having reached such an apex of power and influence, she was being stripped of some of what made her, well, her. A quick glance down at the girl by her side, whose neon green hair had been shorn on one side to better display her tattoo, empowered the vampiress. With a jerk of her chain, the woman's face snapped to look up at Judas - even now, the bruises had barely yet begun to fade, her right eye and throat in particular quite dark.

They were in a tent - a makeshift little planning area, a refuge from the storm of sound and the sea of bodies which lay just ten or so feet outside the tent's main egress. There was to be a public address today - and while half of the people who had even showed up to attend were Tsang patsies, to stuff the plaza and ensure that it seemed a huge turnout... Well, the other half were normal, unaffiliated citizenry. That was enough to demand some semblance of surety from Judas.

She looked down at her new pet with a look of disdain mingling with delight - as if she'd found a wretched beast, but a wretched beast had been her goal to find. Her right hand held the leash, a long steel coil which sat nearly completely wrapped about her fingers; her left hand was free, and used its freedom to go down and offer comfort to the creature with green hair.

White-clad fingers brushed tenderly at the bruised cheek, the leather of their covering so very soft yet so very supple. Judas's captive whimpered, not yet with the need and lust and yearning for attention that Judas hoped to inspire... but perhaps the last beating had been too recent. She needed time to settle at the bottom before Judas could drag her up out of the muck, it seemed - and that was just fine for the vampire. Vivica was only here as a trophy, anyways - at least, mostly. There was one task which was demanded of the rebel.

But that could, and would, wait. Judas continued to caress and stroke, trying to steel herself up for the address - in her palm, her plaything whined and mewled like a beaten dog desperate for affection. The truth wasn't so dissimilar to the fiction, in that sense... Judas had worn white gloves to better contrast any blood, so she could lick it off. Vivica wasn't a bleeder, though, so it had only been for show.

The tent was sparsely decorated, filled with amenities which the sanguine superior had demanded - never something so servile as requested. A cooler of bottled blood, mixed on-site with anticoagulants and ginger beer... A plate of tataki, freshly prepared and even more freshly presented, with a side of soy sauce and tamago gohan riddled with scallions and dashes of ponzu (this all sat nearly completely devoured)... A fresh scalpel, and some tools for stitching, and gauze.

Oh, and of course, the luxurious easy chair Judas had ordered some poor unfortunate to haul all the way from the sixty-eighth floor of Tsang Tower down here, to the plaza below. Poor fucking bastard... she had made him take the stairs, too, or at least threatened him with punitive action should he take the elevator.

Judas had destroyed the raw egg and beef presentation, halfway simply to inspire fear into Vivica - hell, she'd even forced Vene to eat some of the tataki. Seeing her gag and choke on uncooked beef, even despite Judas's assurances that it was safe to eat... Well, that had borne the casus belli for the beating, but in honest? Judas thought it was adorable, seeing some worthless fucking first-living nearly vomit trying to broach a little sliver of uncooked cow and soy. She'd also made the 'promise' to Vene that, if the public address fell through and ratings were poor? The green-haired girlthing could look forward to guzzling down a bottle of carbonated blood.

Vene had nearly puked.

A Public Relations representative pushed through the back flaps of the tent, holding papers and a manila folder in his left hand, and a cigarette in his right. It had been all this time, so very long, and people still smoked... though at least Tsang had nixed much of the chemical additives. It was still bad for you, but wasn't so tar-filled and asbestos-laden as it had once been. A lot of Tsang execs liked to smoke; couldn't poison themselves, right?

"Miss Alighieri... the people wait eagerly for your address. Mister Tsang himself will be watching the address, I've been told to inform you... he says he has high hopes for you, and for the results of this event." The PR official nodded quickly, his brown hair shifting ever so slightly in the self-made wind of his vigor. Business people had returned to the conservative styles of slicked, gelled hair, mostly... if only because it made it easier to deal with, when one had a long day of other bullshit on their plate.

Judas's lips split like a gaping, horrid wound coming free of its scab - a smile, then, and a display of great white pillars that were plated in light-catching gold. Judas had even considered that she may get diamonds in them if this goes well... or perhaps a tongue stud? Those had always seemed gaudy to her, too kitschy, too whorish... But, after careful thought and consideration?

A diamond spike which sat near the tip of her tongue, to press hard into a lover's tender flesh like a third fang, may be exactly what she wanted. It sure would get some interesting sounds of out Vivica, at the very least... or Blackjack, if she ever planned to make good on her flirtations with him. Or, even moreso, it would get some thrilling responses from the chaff which Judas's body sifted through in her boredom - those men and women who spent time lingering about streetlights and alleyways, only to get picked up in a sleek black limousine. Judas couldn't help herself; she was a woman with needs! A great many needs, in fact, nearly all of them parasitic... stealing joy and life from others.

Enough of that. She didn't need to rev her own engine before going out in a public capacity... she could make Vivica do that later, if she really wanted. That wasn't a bad idea, she thought, considering it briefly... Come back in after a successful public address, pop open one of those bottles of blood, and lean back to relax while Vene buries her face into vampiric loins. A great end to what could be a great day.

Oh, fuck, that PR rep was still here, wasn't he?

Judas blinked once, twice, thrice, realizing she'd never even addressed the man who now stood awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Her smile had neither waxed nor waned; it had formed, and stayed plastered there about her lips like a beam of moonlight through a clouded sky. Fuck.

"Hm-m-m~? Yes, thank you, excellent. You're dismissed. I... actually. Report to my personal mortician; let him know I'm in a certain sort of mood. The usual amendments. And yes, I do want it bigger this time. Don't ask - he'll know what I mean, just tell him that. Okay? Then, get yourself a drink at the company lounge, and put it on my tab. Yes, yes, before you say anything..." She giggled to herself, ever so near to being an outright cackle, but not nearly so visibly malicious... yet, anyways. She was feeling too benevolent to seem outright villainous.

The representative blinked at her, waiting for the finish of what was already a bewildering epithet. It didn't take much of an imagination, looking at Judas and the captive at her side, to puzzle out what she was discussing. The rich and powerful went to their personal morticians regularly, amending and adjusting their appearances in ways both large and small. Tsang's mastery of biotechnology had made such things... well, more than viable, of course. And for Judas? Cost was of no consequence.

"...my tab. Buy as many drinks as you'd like, in fact. Buy the whole bar if it takes you, hm? Drown yourself in liquor until you can't feel your own face. This is the start of something new, and you'd do very well to let your little lackeys know that Tsang is even closer to its goals than ever before. Now - go. Get the fuck out of my sight. Do what I told you to."

And with that, her long-winded monologue was completed. It was easy to speak at length when none in attendance dared object or even interrupt, and so... Well, Judas had gotten into the bad habit of just letting her lips run, when the mood took her. It often did, though not without just cause. 'Just' being 'her own gratification', though, so it was a bit up in the air.

She pushed herself to a stand, hand drawn away from Vivica's face to put her palm to the arm of the easy chair. She was wearing the same thing she wore nearly every work day, a timeless sense of style and class coming along with: the black pinstripe suit and pants, the red button-up blouse beneath, the black tie and boots... The white gloves were new, but they were temporary. And, to cap it all off, the silver cross which had long since scarred her chest - just between her collarbones, a Saint Peter's cross sat burned eternally into her half-dead flesh.

Long black hair fell in silken waves from her head, and the mild cinnamon of her skin caught the light just right. God, she was hot - or so she thought to herself, catching a glimpse of herself in the shiny black exterior of the cooler. "Come, pet... No, not cum, come. C'mon, we've got a public to address." Another jerk of the chain, bodily dragging Vivica across the concrete a few inches. This, of course, scraped at her hands, and made her yelp in pain. Judas couldn't have cared less.

Step by step, the shortest march... many stones may build an arch, but singly? Singly, one could smash a window. And right now, Judas was hoping to shatter Vitus's dissenters' window into a million million pieces. Out of the tent she went, Vivica struggling to keep pace on all fours with scraped, bloodied palms. Out of the tent and... into the light.

The light, that was, of the midnight suns of floodlights and flashbulbs. Judas held her back high and straight as she proceeded as coolly and languidly as she dared towards the raised platform and the podium which sat atop it, each assembled on-site by Tsang labourers contracted from an IRE site. She could trust that it would hold her and was well-built, of course; after all, those IRE scum knew what would happen if it wasn't.

The podium, then. Judas stared out into a sea of faces, and was shocked to see that there were a fair bit more average citizens present than initial estimates had predicted. So many forms jostled and jockeyed for position that they had begun to clog nearby streets... Some storefronts had been smashed, if only so that onlookers could stand in open windows to watch the proceedings; some people had even climbed street lamps and traffic lights, sitting atop them or hanging from their steely frames.

Wow. That only fueled Judas's vile ego that much further, a swelling in her blackened heart nearly setting it primed to burst. She looked down to Vivica with a cruelty now flecking her smile like cinders from a housefire; a black boot wound back before introducing itself to the captive's midsection, sending her to the stage's floor with a cry, and no longer letting her hide behind Judas or the podium. The crowd cheered.

Judas took the microphone while Vivica whimpered and wept and wordlessly begged for mercy. The vampiress leaned forwards, clearing her throat before beginning. "Hello, Vitus. My name is Judas Alighieri... and I am here, speaking to you, as a representative of Tsang Solutions as a whole. Please, make some noise."

Noise was made quickly, and in the extreme. The people cheered so very loud, so very emphatically, so fanatically... her words, simple as they were, carried across the crowd like the incensing sermon of a cult leader. They set all present to frenzy - because, if Tsang spoke, they would do damn well to listen. In all things this was true... but Judas, as powerful as she was, rarely made public addresses. Normally it was some Poindexter in a stiff suit with a stick up their ass, speaking with clinical precision and restraint. Judas being here meant something new, something different... and her confidence meant it had to be something good, right? Good for Vitus. Good for everyone.

Judas waited for the crowd's raucous din to subside somewhat before she began again, feeling that warmest of glows radiate off of them to kiss every inch of her skin, like a turkey basted in succulent juice. "Thank you, everyone! Thank you, thank you, for your..." She nearly slipped up and said 'obedience'; it's what she would've liked to say, truthfully, but it would sit poorly with this mass crowd of people who would've liked to believe they weren't modern-day serfs.

"...participation, ha-ha-ha. So. I'm here speaking to you today because... Tsang Solutions have made a striking development in our fight against the terrorists who plague our beautiful, irreplaceable city." The crowd shut the fuck up then, now rapt with attention - they wanted, nay, needed to know more. The terrorist attacks had been mounting in recent years, of course... and there were few among the populace who didn't live in fear of waking up to their whole apartment being firebombed.

Judas took a single step towards Vivica, disconnecting the mic from its stand so she could talk as she walked. One foot was raised up and then gently placed atop Vene's throat; barely any pressure was applied, but enough that Vene's eyes snapped wide, and her sobbing slowed to become frantic, though muted, whimpering. Judas gestured down at the green-haired girl, ensuring at least one of the broadcasters' cameras caught the tattoo on the shaved side of her head.

"Kehler Complex was recently under attack by anti-corporatist seditionists. The... 'Revenants', I believe they call themselves. Tsang forces responded as quickly as they could, but... well, they hit the main furnace in the depths of the complex. Kehler Complex is no more, and... We lost a great many brave men and women that day, fighting off these terrorist scum." A little more pressure. Her foot and her weight were the coils of a viper, and Vene had been caught in a snake pit.

The green-haired girl put both hands up, tentatively, to the ankle of Judas's booted foot. Judas responded by pressing down just a little harder, just a sliver more weight... and Vene felt her windpipe begin to close, ever so slowly. "But. We've managed to capture this woman, this... Vivica Blackwater. She and her associated orchestrated the attack, and we believe many more; we will be investigating promptly, of course. But, this is a huge break for us, and for all of you. Tsang Solutions will not sleep, will not eat, will not stop until Vitus is safe, for everyone!"

Everyone except dissenters. That went without saying, Judas imagined. The reply from the crowd was another eruption of sound and motion, tranquil seas becoming tumultuous in a mere second. This time, despite their volume, Judas continued - raising her tone, and her volume, to match their excitement.

"You all deserve to live a life, first or second, where you are free of the shadow of fear! Tsang will stop at nothing to provide you that life - if we all can live forever, then we deserve to live well forever! For thousands of years, we've killed one another over concepts like a potential 'heaven', and now, extremist criminals like the Revenants and the Knights of Saint Lazarus would see us die for their heavens, right?! But, working together, unifying as a city and as a nation, we can make our own heaven!"

These were words which had always rung within the minds of Vitus's populace, at least, to a degree. If they were going to live indefinitely, then why was life so hard? Why were things so very oppressive in nature, from the grueling grind of the corporate ladder, to the vicious jockeying for status and stability of the social climate? Why were taxes so high? Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera... ad infinitum, until nearly every social ill of Vitus had been laid out. To hear Judas address their thoughts and concerns? People couldn't stop cheering; none of them were paying attention to the way Judas had really begun to press on Vivica's neck, nor the way Vene scrabbled and struggled impotently at her oppressor's foot.

"And so! To welcome in this new age, this brand new fu- er, fortunate era of prosperity and peace among all peoples of Vitus! I have been given permission to announce that, starting next month, we will be introducing a brand new economic initiative, to ensure no one in this great city ever goes hungry, or cold, or homeless, ever again!"

The response to this was good, though perhaps not what one would expect given the preludes. However, that was good - she had worded it in that way on purpose, so that they would calm just a touch so that she could make her closing statement. It was a short address; there would be no questions from the press, of course. Tsang were the press, anyways.

"But! In closing! I have something I need from you - something Tsang itself needs from you. We are working hard to quell the dangerous elements of Vitus... but we need your help." And there it was. Behind her, hundreds of windows on Tsang Tower suddenly came alive with LED luminescence. One by one, countless windows as pixels, lighting up in a myriad of colors... to form the image of Judas's real target. Blonde hair, emerald eyes, pale skin... and a doeish face that was just begging to be browbeaten.

"This is the face of Vitus's current top suspect in a variety of murders, acts of arson, and other despicable dealings. Her name is Esper James Price-Wynnfield, and she is the number one position of Tsang's most-wanted list. We need your help to catch her! Vitus is a big city, and while we can arrive on the scene quickly, we can't be everywhere at once!"

Judas suppressed the grin which threatened her lips. It was kinda fun, in a way... like she was showing off a prize, or a trophy, or a favorite toy. Thousands of people suddenly knew who Esper James was, at least in the capacity that they had seen her face and knew her name. Everyone wanted their playthings to be popular, right? Judas continued, pressing even harder into Vene's windpipe. The girl with the green hair began to weep openly, and scream and beg and plead as best she could, though it was nearly unnoticeable from how fully her throat had been constricted.

"Esper James Price-Wynnfield must be brought down! There is a five million dollar bounty on her head - alive! Specifically alive! Any information that leads directly to her arrest will earn you the bounty! Now, I've taken up enough of your time... as one final parting gift from Tsang, go out tonight, and treat yourself to any meal you want. Have the butchers send us the bill. Tonight, it's on us!"

The crowd renewed its frenzy at this; no one but Judas noticed Vene pass out, eyes rolling back in her head. Not dead... yet. Judas wanted to make that special.