Part One: Steady and Retrospective
Mortals have regrets. And those regrets stick with them for the remainder of their lives, a temporary punishment.
However my colleagues of the Advenna Avis are driven to eternal punishment. I find that far more tragic. Driven by the fear of death and lust for power, the godforsaken ship was abandoned by faith and hurled into a frenzy of hunger for knowledge.
Knowledge is power, and power corrupts, corruption leads to deceit, and deceit leads to broken hearts and shock, which in turn leads to revenge, and the cycle commonly restarts itself with different people constantly connecting in rather conveniently drawn out ways.
Say, for instance, that unfortunate young boy with the menacing guardian, Fermet. Now, I myself have no need to take sides in a human's trivial matters, so whatever grotesque actions went on behind closed doors is no business of mine, so I'll leave at that. The fact of the matter is that the young boy now finds himself caught up in using others and fearing the unfortunate fate of being devoured one day. If not that, he is repeatedly killed by the same people from spite and distrust.
He brought it on himself, if you want my opinion.
That aside, immortality is the greatest punishment. Stopped in time, never-aging, watching old and new friends pass away helplessly as their soul either reaches for Heaven or Hell, while you stand there. Behind a curtain that is impossible to reverse.
It'll drive some Immortals mad, really.
Part Two: A Wild Ruckus
Ladies and gents, let's cut the formalities and get straight to the point at hand!
This dog eat dog world ain't fer' the faint of heart, cuz' good ol' New York is full of pimps, sharks, whores, gangsters, assassins, and you damn sure better expect an Immortal or two to fuck your shit up and love it. This city will tear ya at the seams and make ya tough as hell.
Fuck, you're lucky to survive a ride on the lovely Flying Pussyfoot and keep your shit together cuz' Vino ain't any easy-to-swallow wine.
Now 'bout those Immortals, unless your city slicking self has the holy hand of God or something, you're screwed, plain and simple. Immortal mafias strutting around streets and whatnot, it's freaking unbelievable.
Y'know, assassins of this day and age don't even need immortality to fuck your day up. Ya got your kill mongers and your semi-philosophical full-time killer assassins just waiting for you to say the wrong thing. Amazing enough, these hard-asses still got a semi-soft spot for their fair-skinned dames and damsels.
That's New York in a nutshell, now add in the Prohibition Era of the 1930s and you're set for one hell of a ruckus!