The Conquerors bloodline

Blake knew running was the single worst thing she could have done.

Her situation as tenebrous as it was, was not something Ruby and Yang would have complained about. If anything those two would have coddled her and told her everything was going to be alright. Still, she just couldn't get the idea, the small possibility that they wouldn't out of her head. Weiss was a different problem, she knew her, knew the truth, knew she was hiding from her reality.

Weiss was right, she was a coward through and through. Velvet though she didn't stand up for herself still showed pride in what she was. Lili, Ferry, those many other fauni, they didn't even try to hide what made them, them. Yet she stood here, lathered in the darkness of an alley in Vale with a bow on her head that drooped, beneath it her true ears doing much the same.

She sighed and looked down the street then slowly inched herself down it and into the streets and turned left. Her head was low, pathetically so. She fiddled with her vest as she wandered, meandering down the streets darting her head every which way fearing that someone would appear out of nowhere and take her away. Blake hadn't even stopped for breath as she ran through the academy and to the docks. Taking a right her step halted as shivers ran her spine, she spun, panic filling her as she felt eyes latching onto her back but nothing was there. Sweat rose to her palms turning them clammy and she hastened her step.

Left, there was a footstep yet not foot that stepped.

Right, a woosh of the wind and a shiver down her spine yet there was no breeze that evening.

Her pace hastened from a powerful walk into a near jogging speed.

"Just being paranoid." She weakly reasoned. There was proper reason for paranoia, that much she knew. Ever since the assault on the Charlatan the White Fang was being hunted down. Faunus arrests throughout Vale had risen by numerous percentages though convictions decreased due to lacking evidence. Still, with her being a Belladonna chances were she'd be arrested and executed by Jacques Schnee himself just to send a message. Didn't matter if her father was the leader during the peaceful days of the White Fang, he was still related to them and her by proxy. No matter how much she ran, just that small relationship was going to come and bite her in the ass now.

'Is there even any point to running?' Blake's stride halted and she turned her gaze up to the starlit sky above. It was nothing like menagerie where stars were like shells in the ocean. Here, they were rare, small, the light of the city polluted the sky rendering out those beautiful miniature giants. Her mind raced a mile a minute before she uttered her first words. "That's you… isn't it Adam?" readying herself to face him, she spun though could only gape at the empty street. In the distance the shimmer of a cars headlights raced nearer, zooming past with a gust of wind. Not seconds later did a vehicle glaring with red and blue flashes whizz past.

Blake watched them in astonishment. 'Now I'm really being paranoid.' She shook her head but remained unmoving, letting the ambient temperature of city rub against her skin. A scent drifted by faintly and immediately her eyes dilated and her nostrils flared. It was familiar, like tuna and catnip. A hiss escaped pushed through her teeth as a tightness welled in her crotch. She'd know this smell from anywhere. "You can come out professor… I can smell you!" she called spinning in an effort to find where he'd come out of.

A click and a whoosh rumbled from her right and there appeared the professor, his ruby eyes piercing like lighthouses in the dark. For every faint moment they lingered on her she could feel them groping her skin, feeling her breasts and thighs and everything meaty about her. Though he also looked into her eyes and still held lust, he wanted ownership of her, of her body, he wanted to tie her up and hang her by a harness from the ceiling to have his way with her body.

Blake gulped and diverted her eyes in a vain attempt to lessen the painful reddening of her cheeks. "What are you here for?" she mumbled, "take me in to the police?"

The professor lightly laughed and took one step to a nearby storefront and peered in through the cracks in the shutter before turning and leaning against it. "Don't you think it would be a little comical for a man whose murdered like… I-don't-know-how-many people to go talking to the police about a little criminal pussy cat?" he eyed a couple across the street, while not as strong as the scent coming off him, Blake could smell cheap perfume and a musky fishy smell coming from the girl she reasoned.

"That's different," she tried to lift her head, to latch onto him but couldn't as his eyes met hers and sent her heart gallivanting into euphoria. "You say you killed people yet there's no bodies, no proof. You could just be lying while I actually did all those bad things. I burnt buildings, I fought and hurt people." She bitterly spat.

"So what?"

Blake shuddered and she looked at him disbelievingly. "So what? I hurt people! I actually committed crimes!"

"And? How does that make you special?" he scoffed pushing off the building to stretch out his arms above his head. "Hurt people heal. Crimes can be paid off in prison in the yard or through pocket change. Did you kill anyone?"

Blake kept still in thought but soon shook her head. At least, no one died while she was with them.

"Good, then as far as I'm concerned, you did little wrong. You had a reason for your fighting, to protest against very real, very dangerous prejudice. People will see your deeds as sinful. Especially since Sienna's takeover but you can't deny that when your father was in the lead, things were getting better." He drew close in three steps, his scent setting of waterworks in her pants and sending her legs into spasms.

Parc could see it, she could smell it on him. His knowing, his enjoyment at seeing his effect on her. It was exhilarating, was this how Ceylon felt when Hatchet caught her and snared her tight in his thread? Her nipples grew hard piercing through even her bra as a noticeable darkness shaded her crotch wet. "I still did wrong things." she leaned away as he leaned close, his breath stroked her lips, rose up her nose and sent her amber eyes flickering.

"For the right reasons." He added in a whisper.

Blake felt drawn to him, her body wanted to pull close, to spread his scent across herself but what sanity her mind held wouldn't let her. It pushed away, peeled the neurons that shot to life at his breath stroking her cheeks and rose up her nose.

"It depends on how you view the world really." his finger trailed up, teasing against her stomach, crossing the cusp of her breast and rolled agonizingly across the side of her neck. When he came to her cheek she couldn't help but lean into his hand, she was putty and he was easily molding her with these torturous actions. "Is it bad if I save a baby who would later commit a genocide? Would it be bad if I killed that baby? I'd be stopping a genocide but I'd still be killing a baby." He pinched her chin, lifting her head and forcing their eyes to meet. She panted, her breath practically steaming as her lips seemed to shimmer a shade of beautiful ruby as they squirmed awaiting connection.

The professor drew closer, his lips just millimeters from her own. She couldn't control herself, his scent was too powerful, too cruel as it tore at her brain, ripping away sane control and pulled her to an instinctual yearning for breeding.

"There's a little warehouse down the road. Hickoryhue 63. Key's under the mat." Just like that, Parc whispered to her the suddenly disappeared. Blake stalled for ten breaths then spun, confused and soggy between the legs. She'd been so ready to let him have her, to rip her clothes off and have her there and he just left?

Blake slapped herself harshly across the cheek leaving behind a blaring red palm print, failing to draw her mind away from him and the tightness in her loins. She thought back to what he'd said. "Hickoryhue…" she muttered, after shaking her head she sniffed the air as if seeking him then turned down the street and walked. Continuing to do so thorugh neon lights and wandering citizens until she came upon the warehouse district and into Hickoryhue.

By the sixtythird building she found a doorway and below it a mat, lifting it she indeed found a small key, one of new polished iron and used it to open the door. The Professors scent was weak here. She sighed in a incongruous blend of disappointment and relief. It's innards were chique, modern, resembling more that of a studio apartment than a warehouse. Otherwise, it was empty but clean. She made way to a staircase and looked up to a second floor. She could smell something, it wasn't the professor but it was still a scent faintly familiar to her.

Following her nose she climbed the step and into what looked like a bedding room, immediatly halting as she realized what, or who exactly that scent was.

There, hanging at the centre of the room wrapped in leather straps, ropes and with a ball gag in his mouth was a boy, a faunus. His skin was a tone of bronze and the hair of both his monkeys tail and head a bright, brilliant shade of hammered blonde. He stared at her pleadingly as he hung upsidedown by several straps from a bar in the roof.

Garbles reminiscent of grunts rung from him. After weighing the pros and cons, Blake drew near and released the gag. The boy coughed heavily spewing spittle across the floor and over his face. Then he looked up to her and smirked.

"Hey! I know you! I knew you'd look better without the bow."