Catalogue — Maçon Register
Every entry is filed by race and standing, and scent is recorded as a matter of course — it is the one thing about anyone that cannot be disguised. The non-mods have none. That is what makes them non-mods.
001
Nekomata · Free Yōkai
A nekomata yōkai and assassin, masterfully competent in thieving, spying, and wetwork. In her shifted feline form she is a sixty-five-pound melanistic golden Asian cat, a predator with silver feline eyes and two long, muscled tails. Her paw-footed state grants her over 200 million olfactory sensors — a distinct tactical advantage for tracking through the frozen ruins of Maçon. A former “pet” of Lady Salomé, she carries the deep psychological trauma of bearing a Hemoglobal Echo.
Half a decade to buy out her contract; three years since her heart last beat around an Echo. She still rubs at the scar.
Her fragile liberty shatters when a false ruby heart in the chest cavity of a murdered yōkai pleasure slave draws her into a killing she cannot walk away from.
“You are a weapon, Charley. Just not mine.”
Lord Elias · Five: Blueprints and Butterflies
The company she keeps
A master assassin owned by Lady Salomé’s Menagerie. Like all sanguinary, he began life as a human embryo selected in the womb for biological enhancement, and has been under contract since before he was born. Engineered for peak performance, he possesses enhanced longevity, rapid cellular regeneration, and predatory reflexes, all fueled by the sanguinary practice of blood-drinking.
Scent — leather, mist, shadows, dark musk
A meticulous chirurgeon who manages City Medical and co-owns the Brush and Iron. A pillar of her found family, fiercely guarding her younger brother, Perdix. Her human aspect has pale skin and dark features; her true form is a monstrous, shaggy Arctic wolf with ice-white eyes. To her partner, Charley Blackwood, her scent is the very essence of home.
Scent — new leaves, nutmeg, dark earth
A free sanguinary warrior with striking silvery-blond hair, dark skin, and light eyes. Carrying a distinctive cutlass, she exudes a brash, captivating confidence and leads a lethal squad of bruiser fighters allied with the rebellion.
Scent — carmine, citrus, jasmine
Lord Elias’s enforcer and chief engineer, a formidable human with an unusual and somewhat archaic specialization: firearms. A master craftsman who bridges post-Crash patchwork systems and advanced computronics, his deep understanding of Hemoglobal Echo principles — specifically the Law of Similarity — makes him indispensable within Lord Elias’s underworld club.
Scent — none, as with every non-mod. Charley knows him by fresh mint and gun oil
A high-tier courtesan owned by Lady Salomé’s Menagerie. Dark hair, luminous skin, and an otherworldly beauty that contrasts sharply with the city’s grit. To cope with the trauma of bearing a Hemoglobal Echo, Ibis relies heavily on oubliette to induce “forgetfulness.” He remains the emotional anchor for Charley Blackwood, sharing a recurring dream of a safe, moonlit glen free from biological enslavement.
Scent — sugared plums, moonlight, herby lavender
A seventeen-year-old juvenile grey wolf yōkai and Irene Evergreen’s younger brother. Gangly and awkward, like a pup who hasn’t yet grown into his feet, he possesses a preternatural gift for taking apart and reconstructing pre-Crash technology. Operating from the Brush and Iron, he repairs low-tech gadgets and manages digital work orders with professional precision.
Scent — growing things, figs, teenage frustration
A young erebim courier owned by Controller Salomé. At sixty or so he hasn’t reached his biological majority of a hundred — around nineteen, as humans age — and is distinguished by striking Tahitian blue wings. Beyond his role as a messenger, Ichiro is a gifted artist and a top-rate forger, a talent that increases his value within Salomé’s predatory hierarchy. Despite the burden of his Echo he remains compassionate, with a moral resilience that transcends his status.
Scent — juniper, moss, rain clouds
Gallery of Villainy
Nearly immortal, winged, fanged. They do not reach physical majority until they are a hundred years old. And they have had a great deal of time to become themselves.
The formidable City Controller of Maçon and mistress of the Menagerie. Preternaturally beautiful, with honeyed brown skin and hazel eyes. She maintains a refined facade over a cold, calculating nature, and rose to power through ruthless strategic acumen.
Governs Maçon’s underworld from his elite club. Gold and shining — metallic blond hair, honey-colored eyes, two pairs of magnificent gold wings.
Scent — aged paper, amber, caramelized sugar
Elegant, with fox-fur-colored wings and mossy green eyes. Wears a golden-beaked swan mask to Lord Ignatius’s masquerade.
Scent — cardamom, spiced honey
Notorious, and feared for his sadistic nature and his penchant for inflicting pain. A wealthy hedonist with dark patterned wings. His reputation for cruelty makes him one of the most dreaded masters in Maçon.
Scent — sweet opium and overripe black cherries, underlaid with the acrid scent of acetone
Wealthy, and known for the decadent galas he throws at his manor. Deep chestnut wings. A brute and a messy eater.
Scent — expensive cologne, and beneath it, decomposing blood
Resides in a grand manor guarded by bronze lions. Distinguished by umber-colored wings and an air of noble entitlement. Views the “lower races” with quiet disdain.
Scent — bitter almonds, gunpowder, burnished bronze
Physically distinguished by a Roman nose and a weak chin, and usually seen in his favorite cloth-of-gold waistcoat with a purple sash. His wings are cherry blossom pink.
Scent — sakura trees, and spoiled milk