Whispers in the bayou... In Laveau’s labyrinth of rust and neon, rumors slide through the cracks like bayou mist. Yesterday, the Empire Tattoo’s old neon flickered over a tapestry of tension—word is a new apprentice was broken in beneath wary eyes, her trembling defiance catching the interest of hard-bitten regulars. Whispers say uneasy alliances formed under the buzz of needles, where trust is bought with pain and black humor. Some claim the Syndicate’s hand was felt in every subtle command, and a basket of apples exchanged like a coded message. Elsewhere, talk spreads of a fragile soul, battered by loss and Syndicate threats, clutching at fleeting warmth in this town’s endless night.
