Who Am I?

"Vincent, be a dear. Show her in."
Atop her throne, the Sangnir stared out at the singularity her base was built so close to. A black hole, consuming everything. Light included. Just far enough away they weren't being dragged in. Or at least, not noticeably. A couple hundred years and that could change. Probably would change. She'd see, eventually. A simple black dress adorned her body, made of the finest silks she could find. Money, she'd never cared for it growing up. She'd rather party in the slums than dress as she did now.
Times changed.
Vincent, a pale man dressed in a black suit, simply bowed his head. His eyes, like so many of Alina's personal guard, glowed the faintest gold. Just as their matron's did. The lowblood slipped back, seeming to fade into the darkness of the room as they went to the door. Opened it to let the guest of the evening in. The room, the base, everything had been taken to an almost gothic extreme. Dark, brooding, a classic for vampiric folktales and movies. Alina was living that.
She kept her gaze on the black hole ahead, lounged so comfortably atop her extravagant throne.
" 'Jackal'. An interesting name. Where did you ever come up with it?"
