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7 yrs ago
WHO DAT BOY, 911
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8 yrs ago
Stop and frisk me, daddy. Unf.
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9 yrs ago
Organize a strike in your school or workplace on the grounds that it does not satisfy your need for indolence & spiritual beauty.
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Most Recent Posts

Ayy, interest.
interest
S-senpai! Stop it~~
Name: Mary Janicot Gender: Female Age: 17 Personality: While not quite a wallflower, Mary is generally a quiet and calm individual. The emotions she shows are resigned, her smiles are slight, and her frowns more just shrugs than anything. Over the years she has become the type of student that sits in the back of the class and listens to music, when she socializes, she tends to blend in to the group, only really talking to those that can keep her interested. Most of her personal relationships fail because of this. People who spend enough time around her say that, at times, she can seem a little 'off' or 'depressed,' in reality; Mary's building apathy toward life stems from her perceived lack of control over the events in her life. With a sarcastic sense of humor and a penchant for listening to music over conversation. She might make seem standoffish to any passerby. Mary does seek companionship, just on her own terms. If one can't interest her, then she shrugs and cuts her losses; if they can, however, they'll receive a talkative friend, a stereotypical slacker, obsessed with obscure bands, drugs, flowers, and death. Appearance: Mary stands tall at 5'7'' with an average, if not slightly well rounded, figure. She has short black hair framing kind brown eyes and a light olive complexion. Her expressions tend to remain neutral, with her most powerful smile being a slight smirk. Her outfits tend to be basic and earth colored, either a dark tank-top or a T-shirt and skinny jeans or a skirt. She is rarely seen without her ear buds or headphones.
Tether: Mary believes she is a 'natural,' having seen the weird inner-workings of the universe most people can't perceive for as long as she can remember. While in the regard that she was born with it, she isn't wrong, technically, Mary doesn't naturally have the ability. Mary's mother, Diana, was touched by a gestalt Wicca entity, the 'Mother Goddess' and her father, who left before she was born, was likewise touched by the Mother Goddess' equal and opposite entity, the 'Horned God.' Mary's body serves as a battleground of sorts for these two spiritual entities, each invading her body, and influencing events in her life. The Mother Goddess and the Horned God, ironically, both influencing her life allows Mary to maintain sentience and autonomy of her own actions, but the conditions around her, within their control, are constantly shifting. Over the years this has turned Mary into a woman who feels content to just glide through life, unaware that while she does, two syncretic spiritual deities are vying for her soul. Ability: None. (May develop later) Talents:
  • Sketching: Years spent drawing the flowers growing in the Oakenheim Cemetery have given Mary a talent for drawing quick, accurate sketches.
  • Knowledge of psychoactive botany and mycology: Although not a professional botanist or mycologist, Mary has researched and has a working knowledge of the psychoactive flora of Oakenheim.
  • Artistic Echoic Memory: As opposed to photographic memory, Mary, over the years, has developed a talent for remembering and replaying soundbytes in her head. While she only tends to use this for listening to music without her headphones, theoretically, she could use this type of memory to recall gossip and small bits of information heard.
Recent history: Diana Janicot settled into Oakenheim soon after Mary was born, figuring it would be the perfect small town for a single mother to raise a child. That child, of course, was Mary. She was never sad or particularly traumatized, it just seemed that for Mary, each year of her life dimmed her enthusiasm, but only slightly. She always enjoyed music and nature's beauty, and as she grew older, these two things became constants in her life. While not in school the young girl would often find herself in the Oakenheim Cemetery, enjoying the quiet of the place, as well as it's flowers. As she grew the Oakenheim Cemetery would become her favorite place to hang out, it felt like the only place in the world she held some semblance of control. When she entered high school Mary began following local Oakenheim acts around as a groupie, often finding herself in relationships with women much older than her. This is also how she began her recreational drug use, in her own words, it; "keeps those dreams away." As opposed to finding a dealer, Mary began devoting her free time to studying psychoactive flora, her hobby has given her a few close brushes with the law.
Np m80, discussion is always fun.
*blushes* Th-thanks guys! I've really enjoyed all the posts so far, they each have their own unique flavor to them-- especially with the action sequences, I noticed-- I'm looking forward to some character interactions. I made a few assumptions on the part of the Aqueous, mainly that racial distribution would be Japanese people generally in charge and in the cities and people descended from other Asian ethnicities in the towns-- I can change that if it conflicts with anything. Also, yeah, it'd probably be good to know what type of currency we have, what with being a super rich mafia character and all.
Basics





Full Name: Lucania Cleodora Melia Castalia
Goes By: Lucania Castalia
Other aliases: The 6th Castalia, Sottocapo's Kid, Heiress, Princess, The Lady Boss, Bloody Sleeves, Lucky Lucia, The Voice that Soothes

Age: 27
Appeared Age: Mid 20s/Early 30s (26-32)

Height: 4' 10'' (flat-footed), 5' 1/2'' (w/ heels)
Weight: 121lbs

Eye Color (Contacts): Shifts from Light Brown to Golden Brown to a Chocolate shade.
Eye Color (Natural): No single color. Lucania's iris colors seem to change with her mood, who she's with, and other mental and physical stimuli.

Hair Color (Dyed): Dark brown/black.
Hair Color (Natural): Naturally brown, with ends becoming bleached blonde in sunlight.

Physical Identifiers:
  • Flowers and leaves grow from the locks of hair on Lucania's head. They grow at an incredibly accelerated rate and don't appear to be able to survive if they are removed from her hair. They tend to follow the seasons of the old world, with more colorful flowers appearing around the time it would be spring and summer and duller colored leaves appearing in winter and fall.
    • To onlookers, this tends to appear as though she has merely braided flowers into her hair.
  • Her body naturally exudes a very flowery scent, often becoming stronger based on the intensity of her own emotions.

Appearance:


UPDATED: After her visit to La Petite Morte, Lucania's appearance has been altered somewhat-- while not unrecognizable to those who know her, she no longer possesses that Hellenic beauty she was once known for. She still projects the appearance of wealth and prestige, but in a manner that is darker, more reserved and less braggadocios.

Her face, which once possessed an almost childish beauty, still follows the same scheme, but after a small skin bleaching session and some Old World collagen injections, she appears as noticeably paler, the bags under her eyes have become more apparent-- she looks to be closer to her age, perhaps even a bit older than she is now.

Several other changes have occurred, including now sporting darker, much shorter hair, her use of Old World contacts to dim the signs of Immortality in her eyes, and a shift in wardrobe from bright, expensive evening dresses to darker, still expensive overcoats and hats help to create a new image for the wanted Castalia.

Background


Residence: Bella Vista Suite, Castalia Casino & Hotel, Serenity

Profession(s): Socialite, Cabaret Singer, Entrepreneur, Mafioso and Figurehead of the Castalia Family, Heiress of the Castalia Family Businesses, Fortune, and Criminal Empire

Aligned Faction(S): The Castalia Family of Serenity, Parkland, Harlem, Laguna, Wolfwater & Russel City;
  • Allied with several factions in the populace of Motum Diversum
  • Protection deal with the Aqueous Yakuza; brokering alliance
  • Allied with several Independent Gaen Scientists
  • Openly Immortal

Enemy Faction(S):
  • Winged Guardians of Russel City
  • Anti-Immortal Extremists & Supporters of Adam Worth
  • Rival criminal organizations in Dust

Relatives:


Other Relations:
  • Salem - Past Fiancé (deceased)
  • TBD

Backstory:



Gear


Weapons:

  • Snub-nosed Revolver: Although only for emergencies, Lucania makes a point of keeping a reliable weapon on her person at all times-- her gun of choice? The Colt Detective Special, a 5 chambered revolver designed for undercover law enforcement of the Old World, making her use of it somewhat ironic.
Armor: Lucania's dresses are anything but 'armor,' however, the works commissioned to her are created with both the aesthetic of the Old World and the practicality of Dust in mind. The rich cloth that is signature to her private line of dresses doesn't serve as much use against a knife or a bullet, but they do serve as adequate protection against the elements of the New World. Not only that, but by including numerous hidden pockets they maximize the amount a person can carry, while minimizing the risk of having things stolen. Dresses with longer, flowing sleeves typically have razor blades sewn into them, allowing for quick cutting attacks in a pinch.

Ammunition:
    High Grade Rounds: 18; 5 bullets chambered, 2 speedloaders containing 5 bullets, 3 loose bullets
Purse:
  • High-quality Bartering Ammo, The Diary of Rosemary, Family Documents, Lighter, Cigarettes, Old World Make-up, Rags, Speedloaders
Dress pockets:
  • High-quality Bartering Ammo, Revolver, Tinted Glasses, Razors, Loose Bullets

Lucania's Guards:

Bento 'Cullen' The Windcaller

Carmela Shelby:
  • Armour: Suit
  • Weapon: Tommy Gun
  • Ammunition: --
    • Dirty Rounds: 30, access to more


Immortalis Information


Manifested Phenomena: Sound/Sonar

Unique Abilities:
  • Audio Manipulation: Lucania can detect and influence the manner in which her voice travels. Granting her a unique form of communication, as well as primitive echolocation. Sound still dissipates over time for her, she simply possesses a 6th sense for maximizing it's path. A whisper for her could only travel the length of an average sized room.
  • Banshee Scream: Lucania, very briefly, can summon a damaging, ear shattering scream from within her. Although the scream only lasts for a few seconds, the effects it may have on a person's hearing can be permanent. While typically the Scream only deafens its victims for a few minutes, those too close to high intensity screams may suffer permanent ear damage, or have their ear drums outright destroyed.
  • Vocal Imitation: Given time, Lucania can project her voice as an imitation of anything or anyone, be it the growl of an animal, the sound of an instrument, or the voice of another person.

Strengths:
  • A Mind Needs Books: Lucania is clever. Raised in 'the family business,' and given access to the knowledge of the Old World from a young age, the woman has accumulated a good balance of book and street smarts.
  • The Ecstasy of Gold: As heiress to the Castalia Family, Lucania has access to considerable wealth compared to the common man in Dust. Leading a lifestyle free from the worries of day to day survival has allowed her to focus her time on intellectual pursuits.
  • Castalia Family Mafioso: As a mafioso for the Castalia Family Lucania is no stranger to the brawls that come with operating a gang in Dust or the politics that come in dealing with Motum Diversum law enforcement and businesses. While her style of fighting typically relies on intimidating the enemy with numbers and surprise, one doesn't earn the nickname "bloody sleeves" without having taken her fair share of blood.

Weaknesses:
  • What Do You Mean They Can't Eat Cake: Lucania has been, for the most part, isolated from the truly harsh realities of the world. While she might not be completely ignorant to things that aren't the high society of Dust, her position of privilege has undoubtedly given her a much different view on society than the average person.
  • The Lady Is A Tramp: A sheltered life has deprived Lucania of the chance to build the stamina held by those used to walking for days on end in the deserts of Dust. Not only that, but her dresses impede her ability to run very fast.
  • Do You Even Lift: Lucania isn't the most physically active. Having spent all of her life in cities, with protection, she hasn't needed to build the muscle scavengers and those regularly subjected to the poorer sides of life in the cities need to live.
  • Castalia Family Honor: A disadvantage of following the ways of the mafia of the Old World. Lucania follows a strict code of honor when interacting with law enforcement and others whom The Family would consider their enemies, this is one of the things that sets the Castalia Family above other Dust gangs.
  • Vocal Fatigue: Lucania, while insulated from the damaging effects, can only summon the Scream once or twice per day, and typically experiences fatigue after its use, often losing her voice for several hours.
Permission to post CS, b0ssman?
It always starts out the same... I find myself somewhere familiar. A grassy field; I'm kneeling in a grassy field, not Gaen territory though, it's unkempt. The sky is a pure shade of azure, interrupted only by the fluffy white clouds. It is entirely unlike the orange skies of Dust, and it's sick, shriveled gray clouds. Wherever I am, it is somewhere completely unique and beautiful. I am aware that I've never been here, but the feelings of nostalgia pervade. Perhaps I've seen a similar scene in one of my books? I can't hear anything. I am unsure why this is, perhaps I've broken my eardrums? I feel no pain, however, so I don't understand how that can be. For some reason, I am deaf in this dream. Yes. I must remember that this is only a dream. The sky changes. The clouds multiply, consuming the perfect blue sheet-- it happens in a matter of seconds. Soon there only remains an empty hole of blue in an expansive sea of white cotton. I look down. The grass is black and rotting-- the entire field, now sickly. The wind that was blowing through the field has ceased, the air is still and smells of a pungent pestilence. The body of a man I recognize to be my father lays in front of me, freshly deceased, it seems, the cause of death being an arrow to the back. Looking up, I see the perpetrator. A man on a White Horse inches closer to me, he has brought a fog with him and it obscures his face. I've been through this before, I know who this man is. He is a slimy man, devoid of honor and morals, he robbed me of my sister, he manipulates my grandfather and antagonizes father and myself. Paolo Rivera; mi hermano-- only through marriage. He is grinning impossibly wide, readying his bow for another shot. My eyes go back to father's corpse. I watch as the blood stains his suit a deep red, I reach out to touch him, I want to see his face again. His body is gone. I fall forward into the puddle of blood and black grass. I look up again, Paolo is laughing at me. He seems to know I can't hear him and exaggerates all of his actions, he wants me to know that he is laughing at me. I don't respond. The White Horse neighs. I've never seen a horse on Dust before, but my mind has somehow able to create this realistic creature based on what I know of them from books. I tilt my head in response. Why is it that I can hear the White Horse? Paolo readies his bow again, and fires. The arrow never reaches me. He can never fire fast enough. My sister, Lucina, has come to my aid, taking the arrow in her heart to protect me. She has fallen into our father's pool of blood. I crawl forward to her. As I hold her in my arms, I see her face, pained, but smiling. A tear trails down her cheek, she says something to me before she evaporates into fog. I cannot hear it. I can never hear it. Paolo's is impossibly wide, cheshire in many ways. In his laughter, he has shed his clothing. The horse has not moved. My vision is becoming darker. I feel anger, I feel anxiety, I feel hate. A beautiful, boundless hate. I want to release it somehow, to share my hatred with Paolo, with the fog and the world and the clouds and sky. I want to scream! Yes! Screaming will work! It doesn't matter that I can't hear it-- I scream. Paolo screams with me. He no longer holds his cheshire grin, his eyes are gone, replaced by faucets of blood, his ears and mouth soon follow. As I stand, Paolo disappears into fog. I stop, for now. The black grass is gone. Beneath my bare feet I feel dirt and blood. As I bring my head up, I notice the changes in my own body; father's blood has spread all over my dress, staining it a midnight black-- the flowers in my hair rot and become black themselves, and... my flesh rots. I feel it peel it's way off my face, I look at my hands as it falls to the ground, slipping painlessly like sand through my fingers, leaving behind only my ghostly-white skeletal form. To my right, I see a legion of men riding atop Red Horses in the distance. They carry the banner of the Forsaken and trample women and children as they move forward, men rise to stop them, only to be gunned down. To my left, I see a lone figure sitting atop a Black Horse. Dressed in a glowing white cowl and robes, he softly regards a scale. I look forward, and see a woman on a Pale Horse. This woman... is familiar. She looks like me, but she is not me. She has soft brown eyes, a slender form, and.. this aura... No. She is not me. This is a good person. She is beautiful. Her motherly aura and short hair frame her wrinkly smile perfectly, she seems genuinely happy to see me. 'Mother?' I'd like to whisper that, but my skeletal form prevents me from doing so. She extends her hand to me, from atop the Pale Horse and before I know it, I find myself hoisted atop the curious creature. The woman is gone. The Pale Horse moves forward slowly, without my comand, and I remember a quote from the Bhagavad-Gita... "Now, I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds." I look up, and see the same blue hole in the sky now full of black clouds. I see a familiar woman standing there, impossibly far away, yet I perceive her easily, to her right, there is a lion and to her left, there is a lamb. She sees me, I know she does, and she smiles at me sadly. "Rosemary?" I heard myself say that-- and so did the Pale Horse, he begins to rush forward-- I hold on to him with one skeletal hand and reach out to her with the other. There are tears in her eyes as she turns away from me, and walks towards the almighty. In an instant, the tiny circle of blue sky becomes dark, and where there was once a distant sun, there is now... darkness... surrounded by a sick firey ring. "Something is coming."
~~~
All it took was a light knock at her door to bring Lucania out of her dark reverie. The woman's earthly senses slowly returned to her as her eyes opened. Dawn's pale glow made it's way in through the window that served as the wall between her and the balcony. Within it's view was the ocean, and groggy sun that seemed to rise from it's waves. 20 floors up, the majestic view from the Bella Vista suite was one most men and women of Dust would never get the chance to see. Lucania, while she adored her abode, had long ago grown accustomed to the mundanity of her view. The sun's light, to her, was little more than a natural alarm clock, and the ocean was simply where it went to reset itself. With a sigh, Lucania Castalia sat up in her empty bed. It was a fantastic bed, one twice the size of an Old World King's bed, adorned with restored satin sheets, comforters embroidered with eccentric designs and velvet pillows that of heaven's touch. It was empty. Her bed was typically empty. Yet, the same somber feeling continued to come over her each morning she woke to the empty, still room. The ocean was to her left. The other three walls were lined, from floor to ceiling, with books. The bookshelves were only interrupted by the two doors in front of her bed; one leading to a walk-in closet, the other leading to a rest room. The Victorian scavenged oak wood desk that sat in the corner, its beautiful carved designs were overshadowed by the mess of paper and ink that covered and surrounded it. Two night stands, designed to resemble marble columns, sat on either side of the massive bed; the stand to her right had a lamp, her purse, and a bowl of fresh fruit, on the stand to her left sat a meticulously arranged assortment of liquor and alcohol, as well as materials for making cocktails. Just to the left of this stand, a door lead to Victorian inspired living space, where, from a door leading to one of the Hotel's hallways, another knock came. With a groan, Lucania let her fall back on to the pillow. She laid there a moment, staring at some pseudo-Christian mural on the ceiling before yelling an exasperated "What!?" in her naturally accented voice. There was a heavy silence. She sat up again. It was too close to late morning, it's didn't matter how late she had stayed up running numbers, she wasn't getting back to sleep. The covers shifted as she crawled to the left side of the, this time cupping a hand around her mouth as she called into the living room, "Yes? I apologize for the outburst, I'm afraid you woke me. What is it that you want?" she focused her voice, shifting it around the corners of the room, bouncing it into the ears of the figure in the hallway. The voice in the hallway was soft, but masculine. His voice was shaky-- probably new-- terrified of getting on the wrong side Lucania Castalia, the bloody sleeved maiden of the Castalia Family. "I-I've been sent to request your presence downstairs, Miss Castalia..." Lucania was already up. She examined herself in the mirror of her restroom before taking of hygiene. Apparently, today a single red rose sprouted from her hair. Perfectly positioned, as if she had simply placed an authentic Gaen one there, as always. Fitting. As she applied her make-up, she bent her voice around the corners of the suite, bouncing it and maintaining it's volume. To the messenger, it would have seemed as if she was standing right behind the door, "Alright, and may I ask for what purpose?" "Umm, breakfast, Miss Castalia--" The rose red lipstick fell from her hand as she finished, her stomach growled at the word. Breakfast! Breakfast? She was absolutely famished! The woman ran to her closet, hardly able to contain the excitement in her voice as she replied, "Who calls for me?" "Your father, Miss Castalina, Sottocapo-- He's waiting on the second floor of the grand dining hall, in--" "The Opera booth, correct?" Her mouth was practically watering. She quickly pulled the black dress on, making quick work of the zipper, "That's where he usually sits, anyway..." She muttered, mostly to herself. "U-um, yes Miss Castalia." The dress was on. She sat on the edge of her bed, purse by her side, holding everything her concealed dress pockets couldn't carry. She was buckling tiny straps on the high heels, "Thank you-- Tell him I'll be down in five." "A-actually Miss Castalia, he sent me to escort you--" "Oh?" The door swung open and Lucania stood before the man, a smirk forming on her face as his eyes widened in horror and attraction. The black evening gown was tailored to fit Lucania's form perfectly; a single split exposed a shapely right leg to the world, with it's beautiful olive complexion, a low cut front exposed a teasing amount of cleavage and it's back went even further down, the sleeves were long and flowing, they hid her hands, and within their stitches, they hid razor blades, the signature feature of Miss 'Bloody Sleeves' Castalia's wardrobe. Lucania placed a hand on her hip, tilting her head as she smiled teasingly at the man, "Well then. Shall we go?"
~~~
The Opera Booth, named so because Lucania's father, "Lucky" Luciano Castalia the Fifth, has never read a book on architectural structures in his life, is, in fact, not a booth-- nor does it overlook an opera. It is a private indoor balcony, on the second floor of the Castalia Hotel & Resort the finest establishment in all of Serenity and Dust. The grand dining hall, is, believe it or not, the grandest of all the dining halls available at the Castalia Hotel & Resort. It was reserved only for high-paying permanent guests and esteemed guests, complete with a stage holding a variety of entertainment and private chefs, the room was truly something to behold. Spending too much time in the hall had a tendency to make one forget the horrors of the world that existed just outside-- or inside, if one considered all the prostitution, drug use, casino robbery, and assassinations that took place elsewhere in the Hotel. This morning, it seemed, the hall was mostly being occupied by rouge Gaen scientists. They milled about in their lab coats and suits, idly nibbling at their meals, some bobbing their heads to the gentle jazz being played by the band. They made all of this possible. It had happened in Lucania's life when the family began outsourcing work to Gaen's gone rouge. Typically, they left due to limitations on research they wanted to conduct. If they came across one, the Castalia Family offered them a deal; they received quotas on drug production, and in return they received an environment in which they could experiment in peace, while living in safety and comfort. The purity of Gaen drugs is on unmatched in all of Dust. From the Opera Booth, one could see it all, hear it all, in exclusivity and privacy. Lucania had only been a few times, so the opportunity itself was something mildly exciting-- Not quite as much as the prospect of a gourmet meal, though. As Lucania opened the door on to the Opera Booth balcony, she could see that the boy who had fetched had been right. Her father had been here waiting. He didn't appear to notice her, he sat at the table, half-way through a cigar, staring out at the band below. The back of his head was to her, Lucania couldn't tell if it was in anger or contemplation. She quietly moved over to his side, planting a kiss on his check in greetings, to his surprise. "Good morning, father." She took the seat across the man, crossing her legs as she sat, "You don't typically invite me to breakfast." The man, Luciano Castalia V, extended his arms, exaggerating his joy, "Ahhhhh! You kiddin' me, a chance for my lovely princess to grace me with her appearance! I relish days like this!" He spoke with an accent, the masculine opposite of Lucania's. He was clean shaven, with large brown eyes surrounded by a wrinkled face sculpted by the wrinkles of premature age, his hair was shoulder length, dark brown, and slicked back to the point that it shined in the morning sun. He wore an expensive looking pinstripe-suit tailored to his tall, fat, and muscular figure. Putting out his cigar, he leaned across the table to deliver two smokey kisses to Lucania's checks. "Ahhh, Lucia, we never get to have quality father-daughter time, no?" Luciana's lips curled into a smirk, she tilted her head and maintained eye contact with her father, saying nothing. "Ahhh, damnit..." He sighed as he leaned back, "She's too smart for her own good..." he muttered with a smile on his face, before pointing a meaty finger at her, "You're too smart for your own good! That wit is gonna get you killed one day, Lucia!" Luciana rolled her eyes as the man clapped his hands together, the manner in which one summoned the wait staff in the Opera Booth. "Yeah. I need to talk some business with you Lucia-- You know we have a Family meeting today-- I need to discuss some things with you before that, so that we go in prepared," As the waitress made her way over a big smile came to Luciano's face, "But first we eat, no?" "Christ, Father, I thought you'd never ask..." The man let out a low chuckle, "My princess? Hungry? Ahhhh, that won't do, will it?" He said teasingly, turning to the waitress, he gave their order, "We'll have the regular-- Bread, pastries, fruit-- all fresh." "Of course, sir. Do you have any special requests today?" "Hmmm," The man tapped his rotund belly, "We'll try out the peach-apricot jam." The waitress nodded and turned to Lucania, "Anything special for you, Ms. Castalia?" Lucania could feel the color of her eyes shift in thought. She could feel them become purple as she locked eyes with the waitress, "Coffee?" "Of course! How would you like it prepared." Lucania's eyes narrowed, "As black as this dress..." Lucania's hand ventured to grab the woman's, and, maintaining eye contact with the waitress, she planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand, marked by the rose red lipstick, "...and as sweet as a stolen kiss." The waitress's face flushed red, red enough to make Lucania giggle, Lucanio merely rolled his eyes, "My daughter the lady killer..." He turned to the waitress, "I'll take a coffee too, Irish." "R-right, I-I'll get your orders sent right up!"
~~~
"So." her father said matter-of-factly, brushing off the crumbs on his face with a napkin, "Business." "Business!" Lucania parroted, sipping on her coffee. "You know me, Lucia, I like getting the hard part out of the way first--" "Right." Lucania spread jam over a slice of bread, "And the hard part is?" "An assignment I know you won't like." She dropped the knife, immediately looking her father in the eyes, her irises went from happy yellow to a shifting hazel, "What assignment?" "Well," he leaned back in his chair, "You know about the expansion into Russel City?" "I certainly ought too," She leaned in, her eyes becoming reddish, "I've practically organized it all myself." "Well, we need you there ASAP--" She leaned back, her eyes becoming a calmer hazel hue, "Why?" "Well," Taking a sip of his own coffee, the man's eyes flicked around the room, looking everywhere but at his daughter, "We already have women and muscle up there, Leoluca is working on paying off the Guardian's up there, product is in position, we just need to give the new club a grand opening..." "So what?" she took in the coffee's aroma before taking another sip, "You would like me to sing? Correct? Promote it, make sure everything goes smoothy? I'm sorry--wasn't this already part of the plan?" "Yes. But there's a step two now." Her eyes shot up from the sweet coffee, "A step two?" "Yes." Setting the cup gently on a napkin, Lucania tilted her head, "What, pray-tell, is step two, father?" "It's..." The man gripped the bridge of his nose, "Damnit, Lucia, I can't do this..." Lucania's irises became blue with concern, "What is it?" From his pocket, the man pulled out another cigar and a gold lighter, Lucania took this as her cue to pull out one of her own cigarettes, he lit them both, and after the pair blew a plume of smoke into the balcony air, he continued, "It's a suicide plan." She tilted her head. "Come on Lucia, you're a smart enough girl to know who this is." The pair spoke at once; "Paolo." Lucanio leaned back in his chair, smoke pouring out of his mouth as he spoke, "He's playing political, Lucia, but right now he's got us by a vice grip to the balls. My father is basically senile, he'll do whatever the desert rat whispers into his ear, which, effectively, leaves Paolo in charge of the operations like this." He took another puff of his cigar, "He knows full well that you're my lieutenant, and once the Don goes, you'll be my Sottocapo-- So he's gunning for you. You have seniority and blood over him... but he married that stupid girl--" Lucania slammed the table, her eyes instantly shifting to a fierce red, "My sister, your daughter." "...Right." His eyes became downcast, "He married Lucina. I don't know how-- neither of us like it, but he did it. Now he's family, and if he can get rid of you..." Lucina's eyes became a contemplative hazel, "... When you become Don, he'll be your Sottocapo..." "Mhmm." He looked over the railing with his cigar in hand, the same position he had when Lucania had first arrived. Lucania sipped her coffee, "So then. What's my suicidal part two?" "After opening night in Russel City, you'll need to head straight to Tas." Another sip, "Mmmm, don't we have a protection deal with the Aqueous Yakuza? This isn't sounding horribly suicidal so far." "Lucia-- he wants you to take out the River Dragon Triad--" She practically coughed up her coffee, "What!? I thought--" "We do-- our amnesty with the Aqueous Yakuza still stands. This is actually part of a new deal we're brokering. See, the Aqueous Yakuza exists entirely in Edor and Gate's Pass, they're large cities, but the Aqueous Yakuza want to expand, and right now they're honor bound not to attack the small Triads that lay claim to the smaller Aqueous towns..." "But we aren't." "Exactly." The hazel in her ireses deepened in thought, "But then, why just me?" "Lucia-- Paolo wants this to fail." "I'm sorry?" "He's playing both sides. There will be a war either way, but if we attack Tas and fail, word will spread quickly, and the Triads, united, can declare this as an act of war on the Yakuza and The Family. The Yakuza will be too weak for us to go into business with them--my thinking is that Paolo might have a stake in that." Lucania watched as the smoke she blew out billowed into the air. She stood quickly, "Alright." "Alright?" "Yes, alright." She began to walk to the door, "If I leave now, I can make it to Russel City with some daylight left." "Lucia..." her father followed her to the door, placing a hand on her shoulder as her own was on the doorknob. She turned, a smirk on her face, "The River Dragon Triad... They're honor bound by traditional Aqueoun belief's too, correct? If I challenge the leader formally, he'll be bound by tradition to face me one on one..." A grin was slowly forming on her father's face. As she opened the door, she mused out loud, "Perhaps I'll even get myself a private champion or two... I hear Russel City has a huge unemployed Immortal population, I'm sure they'd be willing to help me with our dilemma for the right price...? Oh, farewell father..." Lucanio yelled after her as she sauntered down the hallway, "You're too smart for your own good!! That wit is gonna get you killed one day, Lucia!!!"
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