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Blood & Bone  ✗  Profile of Viatrix Kaiser

Viatrix Kaiser
Basic Information
Viatrix Kaiser
Full Name
She/Her
Pronouns
114
Age
Level V Patient Zero
Type
Jabberwockies
Affiliation
Queen of Hearts
Rank
Madame of Kaiser Brothels
Occupation
Lisa Kroiss
Face Claim
The Queen of Hearts is an enigmatic individual that tends to be underestimated and assumed as nothing more than a particularly talented courtesan with a lust for power. While the statement isn’t entirely incorrect, Viatrix is known for her genuinity when regarding numbers and most mathematical equations. She’s a woman with a natural knack for spinning a profit and doesn’t have the moral compass to keep her from seeing another’s flesh for anything more than a monetary amount.

Viatrix is the gang’s treasurer, but also the Madame of a dozen brothels affectionately known as the Kaiser Empire. Although loyal to the Hearts, her loyalty is somewhat dependent on the security of her property and thus, she isn’t particularly interested in politics so much as who can be controlled, and who needs to be… disposed of.
Played by N/A
Offline Created 09-25-2021
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“   I bloom: A black rose.   „
In-Depth Information
  • Alias:     Via, Mistress, Madam
  • Sex:     Female
  • Date of Birth:     20th January, 1981
  • Zodiac Sign:     Capricorn-Aquarius Cusp
  • Languages:     English, German


  • Height:     5’2”
  • Weight:     112lbs
  • Build:     Petite
  • Hair:     Thick waves, ashen blond with dark roots
  • Eyes:     Seagreen
  • Distinguishing Features:     Tattoos. Tattoos everywhere
  • Tattoos:     Most notable: Serpents & Rooster
  • Piercings:     nil
  • Scars:     Silvery bites are scattered across her entire body


  • Health:     Pristine
  • Moral Alignment:     Neutral Evil
  • Sexuality:     Ha, yes
  • MBTI:     ENTP
Mistress -

Noun -

A woman in a position of authority or control.

You know her. She’s the scent you smell on your husband; a perfume you would never purchase for yourself. It smells of the fantasies you’re too afraid to speak into existence. She’s the woman that once rested at an Ace’s back; a clawed hand braced upon his shoulder. He was a puppet, and she was his puppeteer. She no longer shadows the new Ace, but she has survived a purge with a sharp crown atop her golden head. She doesn’t need someone to hold her aloft in this world. There’s something about her that makes you realise she - and only she - worked to be where she is today. You hate that you respect that about her. You don’t know her story - she doesn’t tell it. But you know she has one. You like to think it’s scrawled along her skin and you hope she’ll beckon you to her so you’re close enough to see if the answers to it all is hidden amongst the ink that decorates her skin.

Your life is a closed chapter once you become indentured in Viatrix’s world. Your hand wasn’t forced and from what you hear - nobody’s is. Contracts and debts to be paid off, deals made out of convenience. The Kaiser Empire is a network of brothels scattered across the Hearts’ territory and you know not all of them are as decadent as the one Viatrix considers her home. You know your worth is based on your location. You’ll rot beneath the grunts of paupers in the slums; opium a haze of promise throughout if you’re nothing more than a piece of average flesh. You saw it once. A punishment you hope never to relive. You know that she has courtesans handpicked for the inner district; for the Gentleman parties who Viatrix ciphens a particularly grotesque cost from. She looks upon you like a mathematical equation listed in her neat script in the textbooks you’ve glimpsed and you wonder: How much are you worth? Are you a profit or a loss this month? They say she’s a genius with numbers.

You’ve never encountered someone that makes you feel so small, and yet so enthralled. You’re intimidated, but there’s nothing particularly aggressive about the petite woman. You can’t look her in the eye but when you try to look away, she instructs the return of your gaze. You’re enamoured. You’re a fly caught in a spider’s web and no matter how much you struggle to leave the web, you know the spider will consume you.

You welcome her.

Night Terrors -

Noun -

Feeling of great fear experienced or suddenly waking in the night.

Her skin is absent of ink. It drips off in great streams of gold, tumbling into a chest that soon overflows with coins. She’s raw. Gold turns crimson. She’s screaming, she’s naked, she’s never felt so exposed - she’s awake.

The woman sounds like her, an accent thick and raspy from cigarettes and poor decisions. Her golden hair is dull, her red lips cracked. She’s screaming down an alley that spins and warps, the bricks buckling and forming the gaping maws of strangers. A mother. A pimp. She’s abandoned to the red brick strangers - she’s awake, sweating.

Liquid fire streams through her veins, bleaching her bones, and turning her skin ashen. It flakes, scattering beneath the warmth of the sun. Somebody’s screaming and she didn’t realise it’s her. Bees roost in her head. She’s clawing, tunnelling for her skull. She’s digging, digging for the hive - she’s awake, a trembling ball amidst her ignorant, slumbering lovers.

Hunger. Rivers of blood. She follows it’s rivulets like a beacon through the night, tearing crevices into the dying flesh beneath. Body torn apart, muscle carved and cliffs formed to withstand the currents that can’t sate her thirst. Their thirst - she’s awake, and the scent of blood is in the air.

Her body isn’t hers. It doesn’t belong to her and never has. It’s a foreign object. Something she was born with but she has no sentimental respect for. Neither do they. They tear at it. They paint her with silver whorls and leave her to the earth that refuses to claim her. She sinks into the dirt, whispers her pleas, but her bones won’t rot and the hunger in her keeps her alive. The packs taste her, and she tastes eternal dispair - she’s awake, and vomiting.

Gold tumbles in washed curls down her back, it dusts the peaks of her face, and falls over her body in a tangle of gold strands. Numbers dance across the pages, and she breathes sense into them over his shoulder. Her empire is carved out in the next breath - she’s awake, and smiling.

Quick History
Pre 2010     German Gold
Her grandparents grew up under the suspicion that all immigrants did after the second world war. That suspicion coloured the nature of her mother. She was born in 1981 somewhere between Idaho and New York. She never knew her father, just an erratic mother that had kept her secluded long enough that the German accent wove into her own words despite the fact she would never step foot in Germany. The last of the hippies; it was Hilda’s greatest story when she was on her last joint and Viatrix only wished for her excursion permission form to be signed.

Hilda was an absent mother with a daughter that had ended a particularly volatile relationship with another commune drifter. Viatrix became the embodiment of Hilda’s unhappiness - the point in her world that could contain her disgust, hatred, and loathing. There was no affection from this woman. Just the name that kept a roof over her head in downtown New York. Whatever security she provided was gone by Via’s mid teens. By then, vicious envy was what she got. Hilda looked upon her pretty young daughter with greed - not a mother’s pride.
2001 - 2010     Throwaway Women
Nobody truly looks for the prostitutes who go missing off the streets - if they’re lucky to have a missing persons form lodged to begin with. Women go missing all the time and their files are simply misplaced in the system, a case without enough leads to make it anyone’s worthwhile. The numbers are excruciating and most are later found in decay; a passing killer’s fancy. An easy target. It doesn’t matter if fingerprints are left behind. If anyone finally decides to go looking for her, the level of decay would remove all traces of them.

Viatrix was one of those women who went missing. It was the girl she rented her shitty little apartment off of that filed the missing report. The police took one look at the occupation, offered the girl a few words of sympathy, and she never heard from them or Viatrix again.
2088-2095     A New Era
The era is one of dystopian proportion, the disease that began decades ago ripping through mankind and leaving it in ribbons. She pulled upon those ribbons of humanity, using the strands that flattered in the wind to pull herself out of an animal’s pit - out of a den that she felt had cradled her body for too long. Without it, she feels bare but reborn. Free.

It’s a curious thing, isn’t it? That it doesn’t matter what century, what society, what crisis the globe may experience. There’s still a trade in flesh. There’s still people willing to pay for what they can’t otherwise acquire. History didn’t repeat for Viatrix, this time. Her emergence was early, and her claws dug into the crumbling foundations that greeted her. She isn’t sure of the particulars, but she knew what she was good at and was quick to act before she had a full understanding of what she was - the who, lost to time minus her name.

Sex.

Business.

She was the Queen of Hearts by 2092.

That was the night she remembered what it is to cry.
Extra Information
Languages     German
Despite having never set foot in Germany, Viatrix has a faint accent. This is the outcome of her childhood being spent in seclusion with only her mother. She is fluent in German and has a tendency of cursing in it rather than English.
IMPORTANT     Facts to know
  • Viatrix doesn’t remember her history at all. This is due to severe trauma. She is prone to chronic night terrors and often experiences pieces of her history without truly realising it for what it is.
  • The Kaiser Empire encompasses about a dozen brothel variations. From filthy dens in the slums to the grandeur of her own location. You will find more on her businesses HERE - TBA
  • Viatrix has been the Queen of Hearts for three years because she is very good at what she does as treasurer. She was the lover of the previous Ace, but the current Ace (Puck Frisk) won’t have any piece of her besides what she can do for the gang as treasurer. She isn’t a fan of having an Ace she can’t influence but remains relatively… civil. Note: She won't attempt stab him in the back because the losses outweigh any profit she'd get with the other gangs.
  • She has no desire to move higher in the ranks. She’s incredibly satisfied with what she has and has no desire to risk it.