WC: 1,038
Set at the mansion.
MATURE!

Pain rose and fell inside the obsidian female. It was like some vast ocean that ran deeper than any eye could see; blood staining the surface like some strange fog atop dark waters. In each rise and fall lay breaths, but each breath rang out with a sharp sting, flooded with fury and sorrow, a strange, twisted combination of opposites that clashed to form a perfect hurricane of madness. In such madness, Lucia was fighting her ocean, swimming and searching for something to hold onto, or she would surely drown. Her struggle, an ongoing battle, was fought day and night, drifting aimlessly between sanity and madness. Ghostly faces of whom she did not recognise screaming at her inside the corridors of her mind, voices of those she had slain in the past – they tormented her, and though she blamed it constantly on the drugs and the booze, there was something more sinister at work, and she was certain Daisuke knew about it. Fighting off the insanity was a full-time job – it was done in vain, and she choked on the tightening chains as she tried to pull away. All this, however, was a metaphor for what she was dealing with, and that put it all into perspective. This woman, whom had thought solace, would be found in the grounds of Inferni, was suffering with the fundamental arguments of which every creature must at some point, and that was the problem, she had no reason for it. Searching for it meant crossroads, and those meant the constant battle between sanity and madness, and that, in all honesty, was the hardest one to cross.



The rain had not let up for days now; a vain attempt to hydrate the land, as the trees still appeared to sweat and though the earth would sink, it did not bring freshness to the soul. This downpour, like all the rest, had been on and off with its weight – sometimes quiet, sometimes hard. Yet to Lucia, it was welcomed like fresh blood on her hands; she just wished that the growls of thunder would commence. That would have made this morning complete. Morning, a strange concept for this female to acknowledge, for above all things, she thrived off her nocturnal quirk. She rarely slept in the hours of night, and if she did, it was never for long, and simply down to exhaustion. She was plagued by nightmares, visions – memories she couldn’t remember doing, and thus, she stayed awake. They disappeared in the daytime, but this time, however, she couldn’t seem to rest.



Her body, drenched by the rain. She had been walking for days now, beaten and bruised by Daisuke, and though she had been cleaned up, every bruise still burned and the fresh wound on her shoulder (his brand, as it were) seemed to scream at her. It taunted her like her mind, and that, more than anything, would surely drive her mad. Oh God, she wanted a drink. Ungroomed, she still had her natural beauty – her shimmering midnight fur, and her malachite coals. Even her scars seemed beautiful today; perhaps it was the weather, but it did not matter. Lucia still felt terrible, and all she longed for right now was her lover – and a stiff drink from a poisonous bottle. She was becoming an alcoholic, and in all honesty, she just didn’t care.



Treading carefully through the shrubbery and trees, Lucia’s eyes fell upon the red brick of the mansion. It seemed fitting really, that she ended up here. It was creepy in appearance, almost desolate. There was no sign of life, and that, in her mind, described her just as well. Snarling under her breath, she felt it was time to give away her stubborn thoughts and seek the dryness of the building. Grasping the strap of her tattered rucksack a little tighter, each foot stepped slowly – one in front of the other – she couldn’t get Daisuke off her mind; there would be hell to pay if she ever found him again. Her shoulder throbbing at the very thought of him; what had he done to her? Why couldn’t she remember things? She frowned to herself, reaching the doorway with silence gratitude. Pushing it open, the hinges creaked and groaned. It was dark, the place littered with cobwebs and the smell of damp wood. Cringing slightly, the Inferni Outsider stepped into the sanctuary without so much as a care in the world. She had little hope right now, little in the way of confidence. Daisuke had seen to that, and she would be damned if she left the grounds of Inferni for a while.



Dodging the obstacles in her way, the myriad forms of what could have once been furniture or weaponry, Lucia eventually came across the lounge. Seeing a candle by the dusty fireplace, a small smile crawled onto her face. It didn’t last long, however. The split in her lip yelled at her in agony, and with a screw up of her features, she returned to a blank canvass. It was only her hatred that seemed to grow, and with an angry snarl, she slung her rucksack to the floor. Sitting beside it, legs crossed, the ebony female quickly sought out her lighter and a packet of cigarettes. Placing one between her lips, a muffled sigh escaped her throat. Clicking the flint, a flame leaped up and licked the wick of the candle. A small glimmer of light danced in the room, giving way to sight.



Torn up sofas and raided cupboards met viridian eyes. Rolling them, she tutted – disappointed that there seemed to be nothing decent for the taking. Arching her neck slowly down, Lucia lit her cigarette with the candle’s flame and placed both, the cigarettes and lighter beside her. With one more glance around her, Lucia threw herself to the floor. Back against the floorboards, eyes to the ceiling. Smoke wafted from her nostrils, and her breathing a steady rhythm. She was worn out, worn down – she was losing it. Any sort of pick-me-up would be a godsend, and though she had looked, nobody seemed interested. After all, she was an Inferni wolf, and that, above all else, was her biggest sin it appeared.

WC: 815

As she lay there, thoughts firmly placed upon the nightmare in which she considered her life to be, the ebony predator had little clue as to the company which seemed to stalk her in shadows. She had not heard his steps into the room, nor had she picked up his scent. The thick smoke which wafted through her nostrils had obliterated that sense, and with her eyes clasped shut, she had not taken it upon herself to check if the building was in fact empty. In all honesty, she had little care if it was or wasn’t – being that she was on her own turf, an outsider or not, she had little to worry about. The most that could happen were a few bad words and perhaps the odd scrap here and there, but most of the coyotes just seemed to accept it. That, in itself, was a blessing, for the ebony wolf knew that things could have been a lot worse – after all, she was pure wolf, and that was a rarity in Inferni. Kaena had disclosed this information when she had been accepted, thus it was normal to be a bit paranoid.



Dragging her lips across the butt of the cigarette, Lucia inhaled deeply, a slight wheeze to her breath. The bruises on her skin throbbed, but she paid it little mind. If anything, they were a sign of her dedication to Snake. She had stood up to the madman who stalked her partner, and that was a brave thing to do. She didn’t know Snake’s thoughts on the matter, but she doubted it was anything bad. He was a good solider, and a good lover – she knew in her heart he was the one, and that’s all she needed to know.



It was then that the stranger who had been watching her spoke up. Sitting up with a great hurry, Lucia’s eyes fell over the tan-coloured male. A feeble excuse for a smile paused on her lips before she smothered it with her cigarette. Listening to his accent, she pegged him for German ancestry. That surprised her really, as she was yet to meet many that seemed further out than her. Despite his agitated tone, clearly based around her involvement in Inferni, he seemed pleasant enough, and he seemed to respect the clan’s decisions. That alone was good enough for the obsidian female, thus she left herself slightly less guarded. He didn’t seem dangerous, but then again, her lack of sleep did impair her judgement slightly – she hoped this wouldn’t bite her in the ass eventually. And, if it did… well, she would just deal with it as it came.



Parting her maw, she gave the male a slight nod of acknowledgement. She was polite when she wanted to be, and it appeared manners were highly regarded by some. It was no skin off her nose, but she gave as good as she got, so if things turned ugly… well, she would just have to return the favour twice as hard. “Alright, Cotl?” Her tone was flat, matching her expression perfectly. It was her famous blank canvass impersonation and whether it was intentional or not, she did not falter in hiding her emotions. That was her safeguard these days, and it worked a charm.



“I’m Lucia, Snake’s partner… That’s why I’ve come to Inferni… to be with him.” She watched his face carefully, trying to see some sort of reaction. It was different with different personalities – some understood and let it pass over their heads, others reacted badly and told her she should of found someone of her own ‘kind’. But, again, it was no bother – she loved him, and that’s all that came into it at the end of the day. They either accepted it, or they didn’t – either way, she was almost always left to her own devices. One of the upsides to being a wolf, she figured. The alone time did her good, well… most of the time anyway. Sometimes it killed her slowly. Loneliness could be a bitch, but hey, there wasn’t much she could do about that. She signed away her rights when she joined the coyote’s clan, and that’s just how things were.



“So you gonna stand there all night, or take a seat?” She gestured to the floor space next to her, crossing her legs and leaning back on one of her arms. She appeared perfectly relaxed, and that was how she wanted it to be. She didn’t want him to think she was afraid – that was not a rumour she wanted starting… the wolf afraid of the coyote? What a joke. No, she was not afraid. She was calm, collected, and for once in her life, she felt like she could take on the world – even if her own mind was a train wreck. She would deal with that later.



“I don’t bite… honest!”

WC: 875

His expression had barely changed; a mere snort to show is unsurprising distaste to the outsider’s lifestyle, before the subject moved onto apparently more pressing matters. As Cotl spoke of moving into the mansion, those emerald coals lit up, more amused than anything else. Lucia had not considered such a thing, all that had crossed paths with her warped mentality was shelter for the time being - a night or two at most. She would create home only where her lover lay, and though she had not seen him for days now, she assumed that work had gotten the better of him. He’d be back, that is all she would say on the matter. Paranoia lurked too close to that playing grounds, thus mingling in such affairs would cause peril indeed. Listening to the so-called rules which came with staying in the semi-derelict household, a small smile curled itself over Lucia’s darkened lips. Watching Cotl carefully, his body language closed and distant, the outsider nodded respectively toward the coyote, responding as best she could, being the lack of actually wanting to move into the household long-term. “You don’t have to be concerned about rules, and all that jazz,” she paused, toying with the idea of allowing her gaze to wander. It did not, it stayed fixated on the resident of the household, trying to catch a glimpse of his soul – masks were everyone’s best friends. “I wish to simply rest for the night, perhaps until tomorrow evening – my home is elsewhere.”



She hadn’t really understood why those words passed over her tongue. Honest to herself, she had little to call home. Whether she had the title of this clan or not, it wasn’t a true home. She could do their biddings, she could love her lover, and she could fight in their colours, but it wasn’t home. Deep down, it was not a place for her – a wolf like her. She did not belong, and the more it ate away at her, the more she chose to ignore it. Snake was worth the sacrifice, and whenever they would cross paths again, she would remind him of that. Decision made.
Finally, Cotl had moved. Her malachite eyes had watched him move the chair nearer to her, and as he sat before her, the ebony female almost felt uncomfortable. It was a strange feeling – the semi-civility of a coyote. Well, the civility of anyone to be honest. Lucia had little trust in the world; she had little belief in karma, or justice. There was no justice for anyone, especially ones like her. Fiddling momentarily, her fingers twisting around each other, she let her gaze fall over the fireplace. The engravings placed on the woodwork were worn down and weathered. Lucia guessed that in its day, the house showed royalty, magnificence – the place to be. But now, well, bar the seemingly excellent company, this house had nothing more to offer. It was dead inside, just like her.



“Don’t worry,” she purred comfortingly, her coals falling back over the seating male. There was clearly a warning in his words, though the message momentary distorted by the outburst. Lucia had seen a similar affliction once before, a gypsy who she had exchanged tales with before coming to Nova Scotia. It did not faze her, nor bother her, though she suspected many could have responded harshly to Cotl in the past. Parting her maw, canines peeking from her ebony lips, shimmering in the firelight, her words came into reality again; still that same comforting tone. Kindness could go a long way, sometimes. It was wishful thinking that made her play that card this time around. “I won’t hurt your horse. It is not my place to strike another’s friend.”



In her head it had sounded perfectly fine, but as her own words filtered through her obsidian auds, the female felt herself scoff. It almost sounded ridiculous, like she was some sort of gypsy. That couldn’t be more wrong. The blood lust in Lucia ran deep, her warrior instincts battling constantly with her sanity. She was a killer in history, which was a secret she would bury with her corpse. There were things about the dark outsider that even she didn’t know, and that made her blood run cold. Lucia, lost in thought, shivered – her mind running back over the events with Daisuke once more. She snarled to herself, quiet and murmured, before, like a saint with perfect timing, Cotl spoke again. Forced away from the abyss of madness, Lucia’s ivy eyes shone over Cotl gratefully, though her expression pained and disturbing. She harboured many secrets, many afflictions. Some even unbeknown to her.



“Hm? Oh,” it took a moment to register the question. Lucia was clearly distressed about something, it was eating her alive. “Yes, I do,” she finally answered, pulling herself together, and wiping away everything with a calm, sane smile. It had been a while, but she would welcome any sort of pick-me-up. He was a saint, it seemed. Lucia’s appreciation would not be displayed in words, but simply a smile. “I assume you do? Although, I do not have anything on me,” she bit her lip nervously, and dropped her gaze, she was hiding something. “…Well, except for cocaine?”

WC: 695.

If Lucia thought she displayed anger, Cotl’s glances topped it. His eyes, bi-coloured and burning, danced in the firelight with a mere dislike for all that seemed to stand in his way – in some remote wrinkle of her brain, there were similarities. It was as though she has seen this look before, but where, that was what puzzled her. Some quiet voice, somewhere in the deeper parts of the corridors of her mind, whispered about her reflection, but without knowledge of her affliction, the ebony outsider paid it little thought – instead, she just watched him, studied him. He was an intriguing creature. With that cold, almost disapproving gaze fixed upon her, Lucia wondered if she were to feel uncomfortable. For a moment or two, no more than a few seconds, she did – but as quickly as it came, it vanished. She felt no need to be intimidated by the coyotes anymore, they had had their fun with her purebred ancestry, and now it was merely time to just go with the flow. She would show her respect, purely for Snake and Gabriel’s benefit, but she would not get on her knees for them. Whether her rank was lower than the rest, it didn’t matter – she was not the lower species, just merely sacrificing her birth right for her lover, and in some way, in her mind at least, that was more powerful than any rank, in any clan. She had guts, and that was all that mattered.



As his frown lingered over his tanned face, tendrils of black hair falling past his eyes, Lucia could not help but wonder if Cotl ever smiled, or ever felt anything bar this pent up rage he displayed. It was a curious thing, for sure – after all, everything had a trigger, and finding out the cause for others was always an interesting task. Perhaps, when trust came into their vicinity, she would discover his, and if luck were to rear its ugly head, her own too.



These thoughts came and went, her malachite orbs now responding to Cotl’s hard stare. Though from a distance it might appear as though she was looking straight at him, which was not the case. More to the fact, she looked through him, a mark of respect, which explained the tinge in her stomach. Lucia was proud, and stubborn in some cases, but for Snake, she would withhold these traits. She paid her respects to the higher ranks, but never once denied her breed. They were just as good as coyotes, she thought, and her opinion would not change any time soon.



Watching Cotl, it was strange how quickly a topic altered his behaviour. The once moody expression now replaced with curiosity, an interest in the mind-altering substance in which Lucia had picked up somewhere down the line of her travels. She was not sure where her lover stood on the matter of drugs, thus had hidden her habits as best she could. She suspected he knew a little, for word travelled fast when it came to the dirty little secrets others harboured, but the extent of his knowledge was unbeknown to her, and she was not about to tell him straight any time in the near future.



Pulled away from her thoughts, the talk of piercings made those viridian eyes dance wildly. Their fire, brought alive by the burning fireplace, spoke of interests far deeper than just morbid curiousities. Lucia, already baring one tattoo, had a considerably large interest in body modification, and to add to her, somewhat feeble, collection, well… she would not complain. Smirking, her face resembling a half-smile, half-amusement, Lucia tilted her head and stared at her companion. “I would not say no,” the words rolled off her pinkish tongue without hesitation. No doubt she sounded seductive, flirtatious – amongst other things, but it was not intentional. That was just her. “Where do you pierce?” There was playfulness in her eyes now, perhaps this would allow Cotl to relax - she would hope so. “…Oh, and lets keep this little session between you and me, eh? Wouldn’t want word getting around that I’ve got cocaine, if you know what I mean…?”