Volume IX: The Art of Sauntering Vaguely

14. The Final Consensus

            So Colt was dead.

            Dusk disappeared into the bowels of the underground, living the circus with every bit of strength he possessed.

            Gin kept working at the bar, though became a mute with time.

            Irish ran the bar as honestly as she could manage, tolerating no nonsense and cutting whatever hard deal she had to in order to keep breathing.

            With Colt’s death, the resistance gave in to Dacien’s new brand of street justice, and her absolute rule. Unlike her predecessors, she had no second in command, no right hand man, or woman, to settle her scores. All blood debts were paid personally, she sent nobody to do her dirty work. The rumors were that she began to actually enjoy hurting people.

            Especially herself.

            And I?

            Turns out Lucius and Jekt were part of a band. I started traveling around with them, and over time, taking pictures. That whole concept of sex, drugs, and rock & roll? That was the story of my life. I would spend my nights completely strung out, following the boys with a camera until I decided on which one to take home that night. My days were spent sleeping while recovering from a drug-induced nightmare.

            Ironically, where as their favorite place to play?

            The Drowning Raven.

            Call it karma.