[Other FULL] Venice: City Of Masks [M] [IC]

[Ice1]

City of Masks​

Map I NPC CSS I Supernatural Almanac

Welcome​

Venice is a city of mystique and intrigue. People say the city wears a mask. The mask itself is the beauty of the city, the art, the water, the amazing architecture, but underneath that water, and in those buildings, monster live. The city is filled with all kinds of horrors, roaming the streets, blending in with the masses. The city is filled with werewolves, vampires, sirens and demons, lurking between the citizens. Ghosts haunt the cathedrals, ghouls swamp through the cemeteries, and mermaids terrorize the bay.​

Venice​

Venice is controlled by rich families that control trade. The most powerful is the de' Medici family, led by Giovanni de' Medici. He controls almost all banks in Venice, and has a powerful economic spider web, woven throughout the city. Giovanni is a normal man. He possesses no magic ability, neither dark nor light, and his power is solely based on his mental capabilities. He controls his empire with an iron fist, and is never left alone. The de' Medici's biggest rivals is the Omicidio family. They handle their business dirtier than the de' Medici's. While the de' Medici's make most of their money with extortion through their banks, the Omicidio family makes theirs through trade in illegal materials. Using their trading ships as a front for smuggle of supernatural goods. The Omicidio family is led by Enzo Omicidio, a vampire. Venice is filled with other families, that are bound to either the de' Medici's or the Omicidio's. There are some small families that are unaffiliated, however.

The politics play out in two different ways. Meetings will be held, disguised as masked balls, where family members settle their differences, and in the streets and canals, where people are liquidated, and fights take place. The one thing these things have in common is the masks. Masks are worn at night, to keep identities a secret. Murders and meetings are held with as little personal information as possible. The masks make it possible for the monsters to stand out at night, and blend in at day. Numbers of secret societies arise, where masked figures meet, discussing schemes, and executing them, without knowing anyone's identity. When interacting with supernatural beings, almost everyone wears a mask. The truth about who is human and who is more is hard to come by.​

The Arc system​

This RP works with a new system that I'm calling the Arc System. The RP is set up to be easily joinable, and you are not having to commit long term to the role play. The story will be divided into arcs. Every arc is meant to be a story that can stand on itself. Sign Up's will be closed while an arc is active, but when the end of an arc nears, they will open up again. Players will be able to join in the new arc, and a summary of information that is important to get in the story will be added. The end of an arc is a good place for people to leave the RP, join the RP, or retire your character and play as a new one.​

The supernatural world/setting​

The supernatural world in Venice: City of Masks is based on gothic literature, but taking influence from other cultures occultism is allowed too. The monsters in Venice are all of equal intellect as the humans, and can pass as humans. Blending in with the normal society is a big part of every supernatural beings life. The existence of the magic world is public knowledge, but they are mostly feared by the commoners. The Christian faith is very present in the city, and it shuns the magic world. Monsters aren't the only part of this occult world. Actual people can acquire magical abilities, or magically change themselves too. Magic is not something that is easily controllable however, and magical abilities manifest themselves mostly as specific abilities, instead of full control of the magic spectrum. Examples of this are pyrokinesis, teleportation, and transmutation. There are a lot of magical artifacts going around in Venice too, and they are highly sought after. Artifacts are some of the most powerful things in this world.

The city itself is a renaissance representation of Venice. Cars don't exist, nor does steam power. Magic is no big part of a commoner's life, and it plays no big part in the city. On the surface at least. Science is a heavily discussed topic right now, but it's not advanced. Theories about the world start blooming only know, and there is an ongoing struggle with the iron fist of the church. Alchemy is one of the most advanced sciences, and seems very magic in its potential. Transmutation is not unheard of, but the church prosecutes alchemists, which makes it a very secretive science.

A list of common monsters, with a small description:

Spoiler:

Vampires, monsters who live on blood. They are stronger and faster than humans. They have to be invited into a house to enter, but after the invitation they can enter at will. Christian symbolism cripples them, and they dislike sunlight. Vampirism is transferable. If a vampire pierces your skin with their teeth, you will become a vampire too. Vampires normally pierce the skin with other means and drink from the wound, to not infect their prey.

Werewolves, monsters who can change into monstrous half-man, half-wolf beings. In werewolf form, they possess wolf-like traits, and are stronger than humans. They lose cognitive function, however. A big weakness includes touching silver. Lycanthrophy is spread by getting bitten by a werewolf. Werewolfs mostly kill their prey, however, or don't use their teeth to keep the target from turning.

Ghosts, monsters who are the souls of dead people. They can interact with the physical world at times, but are mainly intangible. Ghosts can turn invisible and have limited teleportation. They can be harmed with salt, and pass on if their corpse get cremated. Ghosts are created if someone dies and still has attachment to the physical world. They can also be created by spells.

Ghouls, demons who have taken on the appearance of the first dead body they ate. They are corpse eater, and feed off of rotting flesh. They don't feel pain as we do, and can lose body parts without hurting themselves. They can replace parts of their body with that of other corpses. Ghouls don't remember their lives as demons before they became ghouls.

Mermaids, monsters who live underwater, and eat humans. Their fish tail changes into human legs once they enter land. On land they are just humans in their ability, only almost always beautiful. Once they enter water, their true nature arises. They can breathe underwater, and heal there. They are faster and stronger in the water.

Sirens, monsters who lure humans away to consume them. Their skin rots, and they are unholy in appearance. They have hypnotic capabilities, however, and use these to fit in. Their hypnosis isn't extremely strong, and it's easy to break, but sirens commonly use it to lure lonely humans out of the streets. One of their strongest hypnotic abilities is to make people believe they have a beautiful appearance, which they use to blend in with the masses.

Demons, monsters who possess humans to for their personal gain. Demons are formless beings that take over host bodies. They have limited telekinesis, and can leave and enter host bodies at will. Their main weakness is everything holy. They can't enter holy places, and burn if they touch anything holy. Demons stuck on earth are corrupted spirits, and their is no knowledge about the existence of an after life, beyond being stuck on earth as a demon or a ghost. A demon is born every time a person who lived a life of extreme evil dies. A newly born demon basically gets born out of their sins. Newborns are pure evil, and will do nothing but wreak havoc. A demon can develop new character traits as it's lifespan grows, however.

Draconians, monsters who are the distant descendants of dragons. They look human, but they have dragon like abilities. Their skin is extremely durable, and they can breathe flames. Their legs are scaly, and they have claws instead of feet. Draconians are known for their greed, commonly associated with gold, but this is not always the case.

Faes, monsters who are mostly mischievous in nature. While this mischief may differ from simple trickery, to harmful deceit, they all like to play around. They commonly look childlike. They have very potent magic abilities, with which they can change the world around them. It allows them to change objects into others, placing hexes on people, and move things around. They have a very big weakness to iron however.

Gameplay​

Venice combines sandbox elements with a story driven plot. Players will be presented with an arc long story, but they will not be limited to this story. Players are allowed to develop their own characters and stories, and along the way will be presented with opportunities to join the overarching story, and the GM will try to use player created plot and characters as much as possible. In the world of Venice, players can take almost any job, and fulfil that. Venice is heavily based in this supernatural world, so involving your character with it is a good way to get in with the action. Big plot points will be interaction between the families, magical artifacts, and dealing with monsters.​

You​

You are a citizen of Venice, free to roam the city. Most people are affiliated with a family. Either being part of that family, or working for them. Families are what they sound like. Members of the family are all related by blood, and the only way to become part of it is to marry your way in. People that work for families are paid by them. Players don't need to be part of a family, although they are a good way to get involved in the action. Players can be shop owners, street rats, or monster hunters too.​

Arc Library​

Arc 1 – Lycans
Arc 2 - The Sandmen​

Rules​

• PC rules apply.
• This RP is M-rated
• No godmodding
• No bunnying unless you've gotten permision to do so
• Post at least once every two weeks
• New races or species cannot be added without permission of the GM
• Creating Very strong NPC's should be talked through with the GM
• Creativity is encouraged. I'm likely to agree with what you're wanting to add to the story, unless it clashes with the setting
• Be respectful. The RP is supposed to be fun for everyone

Accepted players​

Sign ups are closed at the moment:

- Ice as Arabella Sciacallo
- Shak as Lorenzo Immobile
- Gimmepie as Adalinda Capello
- Sonata as Baranabas and Facio Benedevice
- doge as Renée de Fiore
- infinite as Finn Nimue Espira.
- Deceptio as Rowin Odo
- Fantome as Argenta de Bianco
- Lucifer-San as Isaac Clark
- Zatanna as Pandora Bellerose
- Richochett as Ninivi Von Flare Leblanc
- GreyBidoof as Marco Moretti

Hiatus:
- under_score as Keira O'Cuinn
- Karma as Luca Alessandro Cellini & Rosa Maria Omicidio
- Foxrally as The Boogeyman
- Lycanthropy as Gustavo Babini
​

Important NPCs​

Giovanni de' Medici, de' Medici's topdog - by Ice
Enzo Omicidio, Omicidio's all-father -by Ice
Aurelio Ventura, the Bloodhound - by Mayo
Atianna de' Tranquillo - by Deceptio​

 

[Shak]

Out Beyond Curfew

Lorenzo Immobile
21 | Male | Draconian
June 17th


​

"Your scent rains down on me; a sweet fragrance.
I long, I sit, I wait. I test my patience.
I die for ev'ry second my heart beats
If you are no present, to make me complete
Helena, my enchant-"

Lorenzo's sonnet was interrupted by a large man, who egressed the doorway in front of him. Helena ran into her room from the balcony, lifting her dress faintly as she did so. The young man leisurely rose to his feet, in order to face the spear wielding doorman.
"I trust you have no plans to use that thing on me." He grinned, maintaining his natural suave. The man frowned, almost snarling. "I don't think Lady Helena, would appreciate your initiative." He nodded, opening his arms confidently.

"Shut it, you rat bastard." The larger man growled as he led the young scoundrel to the door.

Lorenzo's eyes wandered. His eyes gleamed, as he took in the marble pillars and tiled floors. He gazed at the chandeliers in a predatory fashion. The frustrated man grunted, as he gestured for Lorenzo to follow him up the extravagant staircase.

"Of course, Figaro. I shall follow." His tone full of disdain towards the large man. Figaro's scowl expressed his distaste for the pseudonym he'd been given. "Tell me Figaro, where is it that you sleep?" He continued to mock. Figaro gestured towards a small room underneath the stairs. Lorenzo simply looked down and laughed. "I see. I'm far too much of a rat to reside in such a…" He paused for a second to think of the correct word, maintaining his ever-present debonair. "…hovel." He said plainly.

They arrived at the room of the girl that Lorenzo had been serenading previously. She posed provocatively on her bed, as she invited her beloved into the room; Lorenzo gladly accepted. He turned around to make one more snide remark towards the maiden's servant.

"It's sad isn't it Figaro. You work tirelessly all day at the reward of a few dimes, while I arrive at dawn and have my way with your mistress." His grin was both menacing and spiteful. "Hah." He laughed dryly. Helena slapped Lorenzo's arm softly, shaking her head. Lorenzo waved to the servant, who slammed the door behind himself. The young rogue turned his attention to the woman clinging gracefully on to his arm.

"Shall we?" He smiled. They both laughed, before locking lips. Lorenzo attempted to remove the girl's gown, but was interrupted by knocking at the door.

"Lady Helena. You have a visitor with genuine class." The couple looked at each other in confusion. The voice was clearly that of the guard Lorenzo had dubbed Figaro, but why was he returning so soon? She quickly straightened her gown.

"Let them in." She called with a look of frustration on her face. Helena's mother, Lady Viola, advanced elegantly into the room. Upon noticing Lorenzo, her expression became more unsettled and less conceited.

"Oh…good evening Lorenzo." Lorenzo could read her embarrassment. She felt it necessary to appear more laid back around him. In all honesty, he didn't mind it. As long as he wasn't treated differently, he had no problems with the family's posh mannerisms.

"Good evening Mrs De'Medici, you look stunning as always. That's a beautiful gown you have on, do you and Mr De'Medici have something special planned?" He smiled, as he played cleverly on the woman's ego. It wasn't clear through her make-up, but the senior woman blushed before explaining why she'd interrupted. It was clear he was being coy, as he knew exactly what was planned for that night. The fact he himself wasn't invited only made him more eager to play on the woman's conscience.

"Miss Helena, has somewhere she has to be. I apologise if we're interrupting Lorenzo, but the young lady should have informed you of the night's events." She glared at her daughter, who was trying to cover her groin with the sheets, since she hadn't managed to recover her lingerie in time.

"Mother!" She hissed in response. Mrs De'Medici was quick to show her resolve, by responding with another glare. Helena kissed Lorenzo on the cheeks before wrapping her bed sheet around her waist and walking off to her large, walk-in, wardrobe. Her dragging the sheets left Lorenzo exposed, but the man kept his reaction minimal. Helena was followed by her mother and Lorenzo took it upon himself to gather his things and make his own way out. On his way to the door, he was greeted by an incredibly smug grin.

"Fun night, street rat?" The spiteful tone was clear.

"Until next time Figaro." Lorenzo turned and bowed to the larger man. His tone equalling, if not, surpassing the level of spite expressed by Figaro.

Not long after he'd left the De'Medici manor, Lorenzo found himself back there, that same night. This time however, he was dressed in a full suit and carrying a mask that he'd strapped to his belt holster. He was followed by two men who were nattering between themselves.

"Look at me, all dressed up for on of these high brow fancy parties!" He announced in laughter. He began playing with his collar mockingly. Lorenzo quickly glared back at him.

"At least try to show some class, won't you." He hissed. Both men hung their heads in shame. The man who had been playing with his collar, scratched his head in confusion.

"Why exactly are we here anyway?" He looked at Lorenzo, who offered no response. "Well y'know apart from-" He stopped himself mid-sentence as he knew the other two men could work out what he was referring to. Lorenzo still ignored him and just carried on walking. "Don't tell me we came just to spy on lady Helena. Honestly you can't be that paranoid that she'll cheat on you." The man was level with Lorenzo before he realised that he'd stopped walking.

The De'Medici manor was in sight. They still had a fair distance to travel, but Lorenzo gazed yearningly at the large collection of enormous houses.

"You ever wonder what it'd be like to live there? What It'd be like to own all that?" He almost drooled as his words spilled out. It was one of the few times he couldn't maintain his perpetual cool. "That's why we're going." He composed himself as he continued walking. The second of the two masked men finally spoke up.

"You're after the entire De'Medici family? You realise your chances of being head of that family are extremely low, don't you?" His words were truthful. Though it may have not taken too much wisdom to make the deduction he did, he still said it with an air of wisdom about him. Lorenzo grinned.

"You see Antonio, that's where you're wrong." His tone very sinister. If he were angry his tone could probably be described as a hissing sound. "I have no chance- It's completely impossible." He grinned again. Both men looked at him as though he were crazy. He continued to walk, now with his hands inside his pockets. "Yet I'm still gonna make it happen! Remember the name Lorenzo Immobile, it won't be around much longer." From that point on the two men remained practically silent, until they reached the manor.

"Invitation?" The large guard said blankly, without bothering to even look at the three men. They had arrived at the manor. There wasn't a large crowd, presumably because they were late, but there were a few people ahead of them. Lorenzo handed him a piece of card, and after scanning it for a few seconds, the guard opened the gate. Lorenzo grinned. Of course the invitation wasn't his-but he knew a guy, who knew a guy, who knew the right guy.

The trio walked into the ball amongst a crowd. The sight was staggering. Everything within the hall seemed to stand out. From the fluorescent golden chandelier, to the all-encompassing beige walls, to the highly decorated white tables that contrasted perfectly with the room's aureate aesthetic. Within the golden lighting, stood a mass of tuxedoes and ball gowns, each with a mask covering the faces above them. "Enjoy yourselves." Lorenzo said plainly to his two companions. He didn't bother to look at them, as he had his mind on other things.

Swiftly, Lorenzo found his way out of the large crowd, and onto the balcony to get a better view of the dancing crowd. It didn't take him too long to notice Helena dancing with another man. It wasn't certain that it was her, but he recognised the dress that she'd been so excited to wear. She certainly didn't look happy though. Lorenzo smiled.

After confirming that his sweetheart was having a miserable night, Lorenzo decided to ensure that his own night ended in delight. He was about to make his way out of the hall, when Giovanni De'Medici made his grand entrance. The dancers stopped. Those standing around made their way to either side of the room. Lorenzo leaned on the railing and decided to watch the clan leader's speech.

"I want to welcome the guests present. Tonight, we here honour the people that have served the de' Medici family loyally and honestly. Every one of you in this room, is dear to my heart, and earned my respect through their services," Giovanni de' Medici held his speech with an aura of serenity surrounding him. His face showed a slight smile, showing either sincerity or great acting skill. Lorenzo however, grinned at his last sentence. I guess that confirms it then. He thought to himself. The speech continued, "this evening, is however, mainly dedicated to my son, Francesco." Lorenzo's attention was stolen by the intrigue of the man standing beside him.

"That's an interesting mask you have there. It's very…different." He smiled. Lorenzo smiled back at him. Much like Giovanni before him, he was able to effortlessly create a sincerity about his about his smile.

"Thank you for noticing, it's an antique." Lorenzo said generically. He knew the mask had little to no value. It was clear that the man had minimal knowledge of antiques, as he just smiled and laughed. "Perhaps you'd like me to acquire one for you." He maintained the façade, as he seized the opportunity to make a quick buck. He noticed a familiar face walk by him, but maintained his composure as to make it discreet. He zoned out, not really listening to the man's response. "If you'll excuse me." He said, as he began to walk away. He quickly caught up to the one he'd noticed a few moments ago.

"You." He said in attempt to catch the man's attention. The man stopped, as Lorenzo found himself facing him. "The bloodhound, right?" The man seemed surprised that he was recognised underneath his mask. Lorenzo was quick to read the expression, and elaborated accordingly. He discreetly took a quick glance at the back of the man's collar, which revealed many particles of dry scalp. Lorenzo grimaced at the sight.

"Yes?" The man asked coldly, as he continued walking down stairs. Lorenzo followed behind him, dodging the people who were walking up the stairs. He tried to avoid looking directly at the dandruff that had collected on his back. When they reached the bottom, Lorenzo once again stopped him, and continued talking.

"Huge fan." He grabbed and shook the man's hand. The Bloodhound was clearly unimpressed as he tried to pull his hand away. The man humoured Lorenzo for a while, before turning and heading towards the large stage that Giovanni and his direct family were seated on.

As they arrived, The Bloodhound was greeted by Giovanni and Francesco. Once the trio finished their formalities, Lorenzo followed up with his own.

"Esterno." He grinned as he introduced himself. It was obvious that Francesco would recognise him, so he simply played his game, and waited for Francesco to make a move.

"Esterno, of course." Francesco started. "It's been a long time old friend, we should catch up." He clutched Lorenzo's hand firmly. Though he expressed clear passive aggression, it was discreet enough for his father not to notice. Lorenzo had no choice but to comply. He, along side Francesco, left the building.

"Care to explain what it is you're doing here Lorenzo?" Francesco grumbled. Lorenzo raised his eyebrow in response

"I'm watching over my fiancee." He shrugged, with a big grin. "Is that so wrong?" He began to chuckle slightly.

"Don't try anything funny." He responded calmly, but with a stern tone in his throat. "My father may be ignorant to your antics, but you're a fool if you think you can weasel your way into the De'Medici family." Lorenzo's attempt to provide a witty response was cut short by a loud crashing that came from inside. Francesco glared at the scoundrel before rushing inside. Lorenzo, of course, followed closely behind.

The first thing Lorenzo saw when he managed to squirm through the crowed of panicked people was the missing window. A fair few had taken it upon themselves to leave the venue, while others stood there, in fear. What the hell is all the fuss about. Lorenzo thought as he reached the last wave of frightened pedestrians. He noticed Francesco, who had stayed just one layer in front of him, had stopped moving.

In front of the flabbergasted flock of people, stood a werewolf. A lone wolf: no pack, no companions, and certainly not big enough to attempt a raid on such a high profile affair. The beast looked on, wide eyed. It was breathing heavily, and it seemed to glance frantically at the people surrounding it with each breath.

Ronaldo Proteggere, the head of the de' Medici's guards, was first to approach the Lycan. He was followed by a total of six of his employees. Lorenzo watched on, along with many others, as the beast growled aggressively at the large man. Ronaldo himself was bigger than the canine.

"Detain it!" He commanded. On Ronaldo's order, the men lunged at the monster trying to capture it. Despite it's comparatively smaller size, the wolf was able to shrug off the men and dart off in a rage. "Do not let it escape!" Ronaldo yelled angrily, almost growling the command. Lorenzo noticed his companions heading out of the door. Fortunately they weren't the centre of attention, and their work was made easy as a result.

Ronaldo's words were followed by a large whimpering sound. The wolf had tried to barge through the crowd, but met it's end at a large sword. A gigantic man emerged from the crowd with the wolf hanging off the sword in his hand. Given his sheer size, it appeared impossible that he could blend into the crowd so seamlessly.

"Apologies for the mess." The man grumbled, as the now impaled wolf, fell off of his sword. At the impact of the collapsing corpse, many of the man's audience shuddered. In an instant, what was once a furry and fierce canine, was now an innocent and naked child. A child with a sword sized hole through it's abdomen.

Bar a multitude of quiet and spread out gasps, the room was silent. Neither Giovanni, nor the large man with the sword, could bring themselves to comment on what they had just witnessed.

​

 

[Ice1]

Arc 1: Lycans​

Venice has a new plague: werewolves. They roamed around city for centuries, but a new wave of lycanthropes has come to plague the city. Young children have been turned into werewolves, and are unable to control their feral side. It turns out that fear, curiosity and hunger make for very aggressive werewolves.

The children are a mystery. Suspected is that most of them are street rats and orphans. They're unorganized nature, and instinctive feral acts make them very dangerous. These werewolves need to be stopped before they turn more children, before they become a real danger.

 

[Jay]

---

---

"So you see Mr. Odo... that's the lot of it from what my father would tell me. His first invitation to one of Mr. de' Medici's parties in years and to think it would be set upon by something so horrible as a monster like that!"

Rowin Odo, the demon with a conscience, sat in his workshop wherein every day he would craft many toys from wood and occasionally very smooth stones. Expensive and brilliant looking toys were set aside to be sold at the shop for wealth. He wasn't a very popular man and many adults found him somewhat eerie, but his toys were the best made in the city of Venice and often a little boy or girl whining and screaming would drag their richer Mommy and Daddy inside to open a wallet and spend some well earned currency on one of Rowin's creations. When all was said and done Rowin would make the other toys, smaller and flimsier things whipped up in no time at all, gifted to the street urchins and poorer families for a little bit of kindness and to put the spring back into unwound hearts.

Rowin often pondered if it was this practice that left him so often killing for that de' Medici man to make a decent wage. Oh well, the smiling children were surely worth the screaming and agonizing adults.

Speaking of smiling children, Rowin's shop assistant Atianna was sweeping the floors very diligently as always. Moving sawdust and dirt to the corner or the room where it could be dispatched of soon after. The girl spoke to her employer and friend of many years about the events of a peculiar party that had taken place the night before. One of de' Medici's do's if he had heard her right. He hadn't been invited, oh the shame of it all, to think that one of his charisma and charm was withheld the opportunity to entertain! He supposed that de' Medici DID only know him as a demon and had no real idea as to his "special case".

Men don't like what men don't like... and if in this case what those men didn't like was Rowin then there wasn't much he could do about it. Well, he supposed he could just attempt to eviscerate de' Medici. But that was hardly good form.

"Hmmm... you are all too right once again Atianna. It is such a shame your father was denied his right by the beast whom did feast on a sword blade that night."

Rowin stood up from his little bench, where he sat in front of a rather small table and glued pieces of this and that to that and this. A few finished toys and the odd little half done project sat on the table. One doll depicted a young man with black hair and a jacket to match wearing a peculiar white mask, another doll, one tossed gently aside, showed a young woman wearing an unfinished red dress. A pair of dolls also sat close beside each other to the right of the desk, a man with white hair was facing outwards while a girl with mysterious purple hair sat behind him... it was almost as if he was protecting her! He did so love the way his dolls moved and interacted when he made them. They were always finely crafted and each one was unique in their own way. He assumed that this was what it felt like to be a father, like Atianna's own, to make something so vibrant and to care for it so dearly. He couldn't fathom it being anything but.

"But tell me my dear, you mentioned something about a child?"

"O...oowah... sorry Mr. Odo. I had almost forgotten. Father told me that when the beast died it turned into a naked child, no older or maybe younger than even me sir. Can you believe it? So strange..."

Rowin froze momentarily. A child? He had been around for quite some time now. His time in the darkness notwithstanding, he had never heard of a lycan that could be of age twelve or younger. What insanity was that? What madness? Someone was infecting innocent children in Venice? Turning them into beasts. He understood that Atianna might have been telling him a fib, but in the long run she wasn't the kind for lying. That being the case...

This wasn't good news.

Those children were no longer human, he knew this, they had lost their purity. But at least unlike him they were still alive. They felt things, Lycans were beasts of instinct and urges but even they knew happiness, fear, love, compassion, sadness and numerous other things. He would have to act quickly, de' Medici would no doubt want them taken care of swiftly rather than nicely... and if there was a God then surely even he wouldn't know what the Omicidio family would do if there was benefit for them involved. He quickly pulled his hat down by habit and moved towards the door of his little workshop. It was true, he did not know what he would do, but what he would do was something and sometimes something is all that matters. Or so he liked to think.

"O-oh! Mr. Odo, are you going out sir? Do you have an errand or-"

Rowin spun on his heels and laughed like a fool with a toothy grin as he did a short prance back into the shop. He had almost forgotten about his little sweeper girl. Atianna the dear, she was so sweet to work for him like she did. Even if he payed her handsomely her company and joy was enough to calm his raging heart and her smile could push back any aggression. Such a lively person...

"Dear, oh dear, my dear, a deer, in a forest, what a sight! Atianna I had almost left you out of my mind. Forgive this dashing fellow and let him explain. I have a business affair to run and complete a contact with Mr. de' Medici himself if anything. His daughter wants a toy and I've agreed to discuss the matters."

Atianna smiled brightly at his strange and shifting ways. She was al;ways so comfortable around him because he had always been so nice to her, nothing at all like her shy and polite attitude towards the strangers of Venice.

"Ahh! I see, well I'll keep things in shape Mr. Odo! Be careful now, I don't want no monsters to get you."

Clicking his heels with a grin Rowin turned and pushed open the door. Waving good bye and saying good day he was away on duty. He himself had told a fib, his connection to de' Medici he was indeed off to see, but not for the matters of toys. He wanted confirmation and assurance of truth, that what Atianna described was as her father saw. Once he knew for certain he would await the night, for the conductor to loosen his strings.

If it came to it, then a merciful gift was a wonderful present that he could give to children so diseased, too young to fight their finality and derail their dangerous demise.

As he walked the streets he felt an idle wonder.

'Long times alive and longer times not. Trapped away are memories and me in pasts that I begot.

In times beyond even that. Did I have a father too?'

His widest of grins never faltered, not once, not even as darkness brewed gently in his mind and the world around him.

 

[Lucifer-san]

​

Issac Clark​

​

---

​

Werewolves...they were creatures that made him feel the vague feeling that he thought was disgust. There was apparently an unnatural amount of them popping up as of late, one of his usual Contractors wanted him to do some hunting for what was making the creatures appear so frequently. He had some thoughts about what was behind the entire thing, but he couldn't be sure. He would never follow a hunch without getting some more info first that could lead lost lives, and despite his belief on death he knew others didn't wish to die.

Isaac currently sat perched on the roof of his home as he gazed out on the streets. Today he hadn't opened up shop because his thoughts had been occupied, he wouldn't be able to show cheerfulness if he was deep in thought. He had to do some reconnaissance, if he wanted to stop whatever was happening he needed to know what the cause was. Then maybe, just maybe, he could get his shop up and running once more.

"This is...annoying." He muttered to himself.

He grabbed the mask currently on the roof next to him and looked at it eerily. It was time once more, he hadn't had a job in awhile so he needed this release. He locked his jaw as a smile threatened to cross his face, it was a sin to kill. But, sometimes...you needed to be sinful to get the job done. He pulled his hood up as he donned the mask and he felt his mind clear as if a missing piece was regained, it was time to get to work. Jumping down from his perch energy flowed through his legs, strengthening them and cushioning his fall.

If he recalled correctly there was a somewhat important event going on tonight, a ball of some sort. It would be a perfect target for potential attacks, a large group of people was easy to fight if they had no fighting experience. The sight of blood and gore caused hysteria amongst the group and allowed one to kill more while people were panicking. He knew this because he had used the tactic before, he regretted snuffing their lives out slightly. They seemed like nice people, but they were unfortunate enough to be marked for death.

With his thoughts occupied he walked the streets of Venice in the cover of night. He silenced his movements through magic and enhanced his hearing to keep awareness of the area around him. The night was oddly quiet, almost foreboding in nature. It was as if the city itself recognized the danger that lurked in the darkness. It would've made any other slightly paranoid, but Isaac was used to it.

The sound of shrieking reached his ears and in reaction his blood seemed to pump faster. He spun his head towards the sound and quickly made the decision to rush there, there was someone in danger. Energy flowed through his legs as he pushed off the ground fast, small cracks in the ground appeared where his feet hit the ground as he ran.

"No! Stop! Don't harm my boy, let him go!"

They were in an alleyway, and as he stared at the creatures grabbing the child his blood pumped harder in his veins. He had found some...prey. His hands slightly twitched as he grabbed two of the Bayonets hidden underneath his coat. Crossing them together the energy in his body circulated with much more intensity, the noise of the blades clanging drew the two werewolves attention towards.

"It looks like I've found two heathens in need of some cleansing." He began walking towards the two, a feeling of death began to pervade the air. The reactions of the werewolves were each quite different. One began to quiver slightly, but still held the child firmly in his hands while the other barked out what seemed like a laugh. It stepped forward confidently as if to speak, but was silenced immediately as a bayonet sliced through his frontal lobe.

"In the name of the Lord I cleanse thee all of your impurities and ask of thee to send to take mercy on the spirits I send to you tonight." His voice was empty as he spoke, and that led the other werewolf to become more frightened. It was from this fright that rage and anger bubbled and formed, why was he frightened? He was a being to be feared not treated as if he was a mere pup.

While the werewolf was in thought, Isaac had swung his blade towards the ground. The blood gleamed on his bayonet ominously. He began his gait once more and swiftly brought his arm up as his bayonet clanged against the claws of the beast in front of him. It seemed as if its rage had made it lash out as if it was no better than a cornered animal.

He didn't feel sorry as he put three bayonets through its chest in a single instance. The creature let out a howl of pain that was quickly silenced as a blade imbedded itself into its neck. Threats eliminated, he mentally intoned to himself as began to collect his blades. Isaac had lost himself there...he was supposed to ask questions, but the shock and look of despair in their face was...no he had no excuse. Shaking his head he collected his bayonets one by one from the now human corpses.

"T-thank you f-for saving us S-sir!" The boys mutterings made him turn his head slightly. The look of joy on the mother and child's face made him smile under the mask, maybe tonight wasn't a complete failure.

"Thank the Lord, not me. For it is by his grace you have been saved, through faith...not works." With one final nod he leaped onto the roof and into the night he wasn't done just yet, he needed to meet with a certain contact of his. Maybe he could shed a bit of light on the situation.

That had been the entirety of his night, in the end his contact had been unable to either shed light or provide any useful information to him. It was irritating just slightly, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. It took time to figure out mysteries, that was a given it didn't mean he had to like that though.

"Hey mister can I have that apple?" The voice of a child brought him out of his thoughts as he sat behind the stall he set up. Standing up he rubbed his glasses slightly to get a bit of the dust that had somehow gotten on it.

The boy looked as if he had seen better times, his clothes were slightly dusty and the cap he wore was a bit torn. He was what some people would call a street urchin, or in Isaac eyes an unfortunately homeless child.

"Sure, here you go." The boy's eyes lit up as he took the apple. He thanked Isaac before running off. Well maybe today would be a better day.
​

 

[Karma]

Luca Cellini (The Phoenix) — Arc 1.1

"Weren't you supposed to be at some extravagant family event yesterday evening?"

There were a few heartbeats of silence, with only the gentle rustle of sheets as a body readjusted position. The small room was dimly lit by the rays of the early morning sunrise, with discarded pieces of clothing casting long shadows across the unkempt floor. Two figures occupied the small space in various positions. The first one, blond and muscular in appearance, was propped up on one elbow on the bed. His strong fingers gently stroked the bare back of the other figure who was sitting upright at the edge of the mattress. The slightly thinner, younger one carefully slipped on worn leather boots and laced tattered black breeches. A disheveled mop of raven black hair stuck up pointedly atop his head as if the strands were buoyant springs.

"Are you complaining?" asked the blond one with a smirk.

The younger man stopped dressing and raised a sly eyebrow in Julian's direction. "Did I sound like I was complaining last night?"

A large grin spread across his face as Julian shifted his weight off his elbow and plopped back down on the bed. "No, Luca, I wouldn't quite call it that. I would use the word 'begging' to better describe our time together."

"I don't beg," Luca huffed. He pulled on his white undershirt and tucked the hem into his breeches before standing. Suddenly, Julian's hand shot out to grip his wrist before he could walk away. The younger man glanced down at his captured appendage then back up to face surprisingly soft blue eyes.

"Please," Julian said almost breathlessly. The grip tightened not to the point of being painful, but Luca could feel a sense of desperation in the hold. He felt his heart sink at the gesture. This is too close. They're getting too close.

"Now who's begging?" he tried to joke, but it came out somewhat strangled.

The piercing blue eyes of the blond spoke leagues of the swirling emotions between the two men. Luca couldn't find the courage to look away. This was dangerous and he knew it. In his line of work, connections only get you killed. Especially between an Omicidio loyalist and a blood related de' Medici. It just wasn't done. Yet he still found himself going to the same bed every night, with the same person occupying it. Rosa thought he slept around too often, but she didn't know the truth. Sure, he used to do plenty of that. Nowadays, however, were a different story. No matter how hard he fought it was those blue eyes that kept pulling him back in.

If Rosa knew he was with Giovanni's nephew she would surely and painfully end him… or at least make him suffer enough to know the consequences.

"We shouldn't be doing this, Jules."

"I know." The blond released Luca's wrist and turned his gaze to the far wall. "I just can't help it."

Luca ran a hand through his hair and sighed. With one swift movement he leaned over the bed and placed a soft peck on Julian's shoulder. "Neither can I."

He lingered just a moment, suspended in animation as he ghosted over pale skin, and then gone from the blond's side. He quickly gathered his belongings off the floor, attached his weapons to his belt, and silently snuck out the door. The wooden frame creaked on its hinges as it swung closed behind him. It was a shabby little room, no doubt. Yet since Luca never really had a home he began to consider the broken down apartment close enough. Shingles may continue to fall off the worn rooftop, and shutters may hang crooked on the window, but it was a shelter when the streets were too cold. Rosa insisted she pay for something better. Practically strangled him to comply, really. He declined. One can only take another's charity too long before being a burden, and if there was one thing he strived never to be it was that. Assassin, sure. Saboteur? Came with the job description. But never a burden.

Luca pulled the dark hood over his head as he made his way through the town.

The streets of Venice were hardly moving this time of the morning, and it allowed him to easily slip away into the alleys without being seen. He had jobs to do, people to see, and information to gather. Luca put all thoughts of Julian out of his head for now. It was something he would simply have to deal with later. Right now, he had to go see Rosa.

Rosa Omicidio (Silvertongue) — Arc 1.1

She fell into the rhythm easy, almost as if she was a key that had finally found its lock.

Family visits were a breeze. Her infectious charm could sway even the coldest of hearts. She admired that about herself. Not in a sense of vanity, of course, just the talent reminded her of her mother. It has been said to her many a time that she embodies the soul of the late Sophia Di Caprio. Sitting across the table that morning from her husband's father, talking about trade and Omicidio dealings, even she started to believe it. Yet she could never be exactly like her mother. Sophia held herself with such grace that she enchanted a room simply by walking in. Though Rosa was charming, she was anything but graceful.

Which explains why she now found herself face first on the cobbled streets of Venice.

"My god," Pietro gasped as he kneeled at her side, putting a hesitant hand upon the small of her back. "Are you alright?"

She gently pushed herself upright from the ground to sit on her knees. The perfect copper red curls were now splayed across her face from the motion, frizzy and speckled with dirt. Green eyes peeked out from beneath the mess to stare amusedly up at the man. "Well, that was exciting."

Carefully, Pietro pulled the fae to her feet and began brushing off her dress skirt. She chose to wear brown this time around. At least the dirt blends in. The seamstress was going to have a heart attack when she saw the rip in the hem.


"But not nearly as exciting as having breakfast with your parents. Oh dear, it's really too bad you're barren," Rosa mimed her husband's mother, Renata, as she brushed her tangled hair back with dainty fingers.

Pietro shook his head. "That's a terrible impression."

"It's not like I'm a lame horse or anything. Children aren't the only reasons for women to exist you know. Besides, they would only get in the way of my work." After a while, the words stopped hurting so much. Within a year of finding out even she was able to talk about it in conversations. It would be a lie, however, to say that she still didn't think about it. Rosa remembered the way Pietro grew distant with grief when the doctor explained that these things happen. It was heartbreaking. It was cruel. She even remembered the way Dante's gaze demanded proof of trickery. Sure, her kin were known for their deceit, but she could never bring herself to cause someone that much pain.

Pietro wanted children more than anything. It was all they talked about when she first married him. What started as an Omicidio merger became something so much more for Rosa. In time she realized that she loved her husband, but she couldn't give him what he wanted. She was broken.

It still baffles her that she sees the same love in his eyes. He was one of a kind, that man.

"We should talk about what my father said, about the wolves." Pietro easily changed the conversation.

The man was lean with little to no muscular density. He barely stood taller than his wife, who is already shorter than average. He inherited the smooth, dark brown hair from his father's side, and the sharp facial features of an Omicidio. Pietro looked the part of a businessman perhaps more than businessmen themselves. He did help run the Venice Port, after all. Your reputation is everything when it comes to trade.

Rosa nodded and continued walking back to their estate. "The best part is it happened to the de' Medici and not us." Pietro cast her a sideways glance at her hardly concealed giggle. She couldn't help it. The family deserved it. She only wished she was there to see Giovanni's face when the monster attacked. Rosa would give anything to bring that bald man to his knees and watch his delicate glass rule shatter. "It is serious though. It will be bad for business, so obviously something must be done."

"I am sure the Phoenix could help take care of things."

Rosa stopped abruptly in her tracks. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought of it, but he wouldn't be happy with the job. She could never ask him to harm innocent younglings, even if they were blood thirsty. He could also get hurt. That was always a possibility that played constantly in the back of her mind. Pietro also stopped once he realized she was no longer following. His shoulders heaved in a silent sigh and he took the fae's hand in his own.

"I know you care about him, Rosa, but he has been trained for things like this."

"He won't kill them."

"I didn't say he had too."

[FONT=&quot]Her head snapped up to meet him. Pietro was grinning, and he began to pull her along the street to get her moving again. "There are ways to subdue them," he said. "You just need the right supplies. I think Silvertongue should do a little shopping."[/FONT]

​

 

[Sweet Dreams]

Keira's Theme
​

Night had always been a familiar friend to Keira. The cold wound itself around her but never managed to settle into her dusty bones. Nearby lanterns cast a friendly light that bounced merrily on the water, but rather than keep to the safety of the light she hugged the shadows as she walked. The only undercurrent of noise to the muted clacking of heels on cobblestone was an ever-present gentle lapping of water.

Keira did not venture outside the safety of her home very often. She contented herself with lovingly tending to the herb garden on her winddowsill, and the raggedy rag-doll that had been by her side from as far back as she could recall. They were really the only kind of company she could keep these days. Bloodless.

Despite her best intentions, and the fact that her window was situated right along a canal—which made for an easy time disposing of… waste—it just wasn't possible to survive while completely locked away from the world. Not if you wanted food that didn't have mould growing on it, anyhow. Keira only ever went outside late into the night; hand firmly wrapped around the handle of her closed parasol, back ramrod straight, head held high. It was easier to keep a handle on herself when there was nobody around.

But still she sensed them; the desperate and the dying. They beckoned to her, caressed her nerves and pulled at her mind like siren-song. There was always an ache, a tremor in her withered hands, a stinging dryness in her eyes that would not go away no matter how much she blinked. It was an effort just to keep her heart calm and her pace steady.

All at once, she stopped. Her expression turned searching, as though she were trying to recall something. Her eyes snapped a little ways to the left, and… There. And there! She quickly whipped her head around to the right. And again!Further in the direction she was heading in, this time. Keira's lips thinned in displeasure.

For just a few moments there had been a tug at her soul, which vanished as suddenly as it had arrived. This in and of itself was not unusual, but for it to happen so quickly and in such rapid succession probably meant that something was afoot.

People were being killed, one after the other.

Keira spun on her heels and briskly walked back the way she came. She had lasted four years, starting last week. She would not let it all fall to ruins because of another family squabble or supernatural incident. She was much too old to deal with all this crap.

She was most of the way back home when a scream tore through the air. It was close; much too close. She wasn't sure she'd be able to get completely out of range in time, and she couldn't pinpoint the scream's point of origin. There were no tugs yet in this area, which meant that at least whoever it was was not gravely wounded yet. Her best bet was to run, and try to deal with whatever may come. There was still time.

Another scream and Keira's blood froze. It sounded like a young child.

There was a narrow canal further up, which is probably where the screams were coming from. This time, Keira didn't even stop to think, rushing over there as quickly as she was able.

[h2][/h2]

[h2][/h2]

 

[Jay]

---

---

In the end, the connection to the the de' Medici's had provided precious little information on the topic of the lycans and Rowin had to wonder, as ever, why he was ever trusted as little as he was and why this time in particular he had been denied information on something that he could so very easily and willingly contribute to. Did de' Medici want to keep all the negativity surrounding his little party on the down low? Did Rowin's contact have a less important status then he had originally believed? Or did the distrust for demons ring so through with de' Medici that even their affiliates and information brokers didn't speak the details to them. It was oh so baffling and ever so rude.

"Nothing but confirmation about what I already know... Atianna certainly did confirm a lot for me. The girl dear is sharp as a needle as ever."

Rowin contemplated on the few pieces of new information that he did have. The lycan child did not seem to have complete control of its abilities at the time, perhaps it was simply terrified at the time, or perhaps its younger body and mind prevented it from being able to act properly? Oh well! It didn't really matter, this meant that if nothing else, these infantile interlopers of the night time realm had no idea how to fight in their current incarnation. That means that he would be able to deal with them easily, knocking them out or even mercy killing them if it was required.

The night of Venice had steadily rolled in as Rowin walked the boardwalks by the canals and dreamed idly. The moonlight reflected oh so gently on the Venetian waters and it brought his ever present smile a new lease of life as he glanced at the perfectly round and white glowing reflection of the moon above, despite the lanterns polluting with their light, Venice was pure enough to show the moon and stars in their grandest glory. It filled Rowin with a sense of pride that even as the creature he was, he could appreciate such beauty.

It also helped that he was able to notice his attacker, thanks to their reflection blotting out the moon, in its clear reflection.

Rowin didn't even move, he flicked his wrist and a string moved from it, the blade mounted on the end swished elegantly through the air as he turned his head to look at the small Lycan leaping towards him. The miniature creature had been watching him with great interest for at least fifteen minutes now. He had been walking home from his meeting for about thirty and he noticed the piercing glare on his back about halfway through the stroll, about thirty clicks from the main channel and a little bit off his favourite pier.

The blade slashed across the monsters hand and threw off the trajectory of it's attack wonderfully. It howled in pain as it fell, all those out at the night would surely hear the squealing noise and gnarling, gnashing yelp that followed, an unnatural noise born from a childs cry and a wolfs howl, uttered with a loud snarling through gritted teeth as the child smashed into the boardwalk beside Rowin.

"A baby bloodhound learning to hunt... but why would he stalk a falcon? Something much bigger, stronger and flying so high that he could never hope to reach?"

The wolf, in a blind rage, thought nothing of Rowin's excellent expressions and instead charged with a ravenous aggression that almost made the joyous Conductor sigh.

"It seems the answer is that he is a fool. Come then puppy, I'll slap your nose and make you sit."

Rowin retracted his strings and opened his arms slightly as the beast made its lunge. In a most gracious fashion the mannequin man span into a quick and graceful bound, his blades extended suddenly and dug into the wooden boardwalk, harshly twisting they reversed Rowin's trajectory and sent him into a spin with his leg extended out at an angle that even a ballerina worth her years of craft might shed a tear of envy for.

And with a smash it collided.

Another ear piercing yelp shook the sleeping city as the Wolf's ribs cracked gently against the unfeeling shin of Rowin Odo. It was launched to the side where it collided hard with the wall of a building to the right. Before limply, it fell to lie on the damaged boardwalk below it. Rowin smiled and chuckled eerily to the now unconscious beast. His strings and blades began to twirl and twist in the air, as if happy at the job well done.

"You poor thing... a child's life wasted so miserably to create something so violent and impure as you. You lot might even be as bad as me and oh trust me please, I'm as bad as they come on the spectrum of worth and the worthless." His smile seemed to fade momentarily as his blades shone once more in the moonlight, aiming gently at the defeated deviant, no more a child than a monster now as both served to contradict the other. An anomaly and nothing more sat before him and it helped to dull his sympathy if he considered it as it's definition implies. That which should not exist at all.

"I'll give you the mercy then. I'll promise you that for an innocent a God may well be waiting to see you through to another tomorrow."

The blades rushed forward but froze momentarily before the beast as it's fur did fade and it's fangs did flee. The skull reformed to something more innocent and a general shrink of size made its fragility so very apparent. A naked little boy lay there now, bloody and bruised, but breathing so barely as to fade to the sound of a feathers falling flight. Rowin called back the blades to hide in his leather gauntlets. No, he could not. Demon or no, this was something he could not do.

As a little part of him screamed that he had already done it enough.

For a few moments he stood there, wondering what he should do next, when fate answered the question for him. The moon at it's current cycle in the sky, meant that his shop had closed mere moments ago and if that were the case then his young ward and friend would be walking home, to tell papa and mama of a day well spent. Working with Mr. Odo again and tending to the duties of the shop while the curious curator and creator of toys and games did run his silly errands.

The ear piercing scream was all too familiar and for the first time that day, Rowin's smile faded completely.

"...Atianna."

He cared not for the boy left struggling for breath in an unconscious sleep, he charged forward at an ungodly speed and shot strings to pull him up a buildings wall. He listened again as he charged across rooftops. She wasn't far, about the same distance from his home as he was, just at another trajectory, another route, another angle. He had to hurry, he had to move quickly, quicker than he normally would, quick enough to kick away shingles from rooftops with every bounding leap he took.

"Atianna... Atianna... Dear Atianna. Please hold fast, I'm coming. I'll destroy it, whatever aims to harm you I will rip the skin and flesh from its bones. I will make it suffer. I will stop it. I will stop it. So please hold on for mere moments more."

Another scream pierced the air, so much closer now. A narrow canal nearby. Atianna was there, she was running from something. He was close enough to hear her ragged footsteps and the gentle padding of something heavier moving along the wooden boardwalk. He strained himself to move even faster, his mannequin body beginning to wear and stretch slightly from the strain. He so rarely pushed himself so hard, but he would not let Atianna die. She was too pure, too full of life and a love for it. It was his duty and purpose to save her now.

There was another running towards the destination, not beast nor man, but he did not care. It was irrelevant to him.

Hopping down from the rooftops and onto the trawling trail of screams and running footsteps, Rowin prepared himself to fight once more.

 

[doge]

Renée de Fiore
​

"If you wish to survive the night, I suggest you stay closer to my person." There was a faint scent in the air, warning Renée of their presence.

The young man to her side, clutching a head sized sack to his chest, nodded and moved in closer to his escort. "Are they nearby?" The words fumbled out nervously. "How many are there? Are we safe? I'm just a delivery boy for hire, I have nothing to do with this sort of business!"

"Oh, are you now? That simplifies things."

"Wha-" Renée lifted a finger to the man's lips. "Quiet, they're here."

The delivery boy complied, and in the still night he could hear faint breathing, panting from all directions. He looked around frantically but could see nothing in the city's darkness. The fear was evident in his desperate and wide eyes, and shaky legs. The young man turned to his escort, hoping for some sort of confidence in her composure, and what he saw nearly shocked the fear out of him.

A slight chill brushed against Renée's bare and vulnerable skin. Her blouse and dress gently dropped to the pavement around her feet. "Wh-what are you doing?!" He stammered out.

Renée tilted her head back towards the man. "Oh, right. My apologies. While you may be a male, such activities would be vastly inappropriate given our current situation." She rubbed her shoulders loose and turned her attention forwards.

"Exactly! That's why I-" Renée growled, cutting him off. She removed the mask part way and turned her head back towards him one last time. "Please be quiet. Your voice is quite distracting. I advise you shut up and sit down." With that, Renée dropped her mask to the ground and bared her fangs.

Renée's slim frame began to expand into a more muscular build, and her already tall height and long limbs stretched to even greater lengths. Fur sprouted from the skin, covering what had previously been her nude figure. Her head morphed in shape, her hands and feet as well as claws broke through the skin and replaced her nails. She snarled, and her hot, heavy breath coated the air.

The young man was speechless, his eyes wide from shock. The person who had been hired to protect him from the recent outbreak of feral werewolves was now towering over him as a werewolf herself. All he could do now was sit there on the ground, mouth and eyes agape.

The howls of youngins filled the air, and then the scatter of claws on wood and stone. The sounds shook the sense back into the boy and he shut his eyes and braced for the incoming pain. But instead he felt only the splatter of a warm, slippery liquid against his skin and on his clothes. The odd sensation prompted him to make the mistake of opening his eyes, and a look of both terror and awe appeared on his face.

As smaller werewolves leapt from alleyways and shadows, Renée's claws slashed through the air, spilling fresh blood onto the streets and buildings. They were too slow and too small, nothing more than mere nuisances for someone as skilled as her. Even as desperate as they were they couldn't hope to match her physically and their hunger only added to that gap in strength and speed. Their howls turned to yelps as they fell.

The young man started to back away, his fear of Renée overcoming his fear of the other weaker but more numerous werewolves. Still, he found himself unable to remove his eyes from the bloodbath. Like some sort of stage performance it drew him in, kept his attention fixated like a spell. He didn't even notice what he was backing up into. He felt his back collide with a firm yet giving frame, like muscle. His neck felt the touch of something soft and ticklish, and then hot, breathy air. His ears heard the same heavy panting as before, but this time much, much louder. When he turned around he only had enough time to scream.

Renée, having eliminated all of the werewolves that had dared to inconvenience her, was about to turn back, but then she heard his scream. Reflexively she pivoted and launched into a somersault towards the stray wolf. Too busy gnawing at his leg, the fledgling werewolf was completely unaware of Renée's presence, until she had snatched him up by the neck and then crushed it with her jaw. The creature began shrink but before it could completely turn back, she tossed the limp body aside and started to return to her own human form.

While the young man writhed in pain, clutching his now quad-less right leg, Renée redressed herself. Some blood had gotten into her blouse, but she'd wash it out later. She put her mask back on before addressing him, "I told you to sit didn't I? Are you able to walk?"

"Does it look like I can walk!?" He shouted out in between cries of pain.

Renée walked over to the injured delivery boy, "How unfortunate. Although fortunately for me, your safety is none of my concern." She reached down and grabbed the sack from the ground next to him. Holding it up above her head, Renée inspected the sack's contents until she seemed satisfied, tied it to her dress, and then began to walk away.

"Wait, you're just going to leave me!? But what if I turn into one of them!? Am I going to turn into one of them!?" The panic was evident in his voice, and maybe even starting to overcome the pain. The young man somehow rose to his feet, but when he tried to give chase all he could manage to do was fall forwards.

The young woman turned around, looked at him, and then sniffed the air. "I doubt you'll have enough time. The others will be here soon. The scent of fresh, defenseless meat, and even dead meat, will attract them by the dozen. Send my regards to the young cubs will you not?"

Although he continued to protest, Renée could no longer hear him. His words were drowned out by the howls of even more werewolves, hungry and sensing the nourishment left for them. Soon enough she turned a street corner, completely disappearing from his sight. And as she disappeared, so did the last shreds of his hope.​

 

[Sweet Dreams]

Rowin Odo and Keira O'Cullen

​

She had been running for a while now, but she was slow and her legs couldn't hope to match the speed of whatever it was that was following her. Why then was she not dead? Was it just toying with her? Atianna didn't know, but she just kept moving forward. Her fear was absolute and no amount of speculation as to what was going on could possibly change that. She had seen it... a hideous monster with pointed fangs ready to tear her apart. It's claws dripped with blood, had it already killed someone that night? She just kept running, why would she bother thinking about that at all? She had to get home. Her Papa could protect her and... and she could...

She felt a loose board in the walkway lining the short canal catch on the tip of her pointed shoe and she hit her knee hard as she fell to the ground. She tried to move forward but her foot was stuck in the small crack, she fumbled with the buckle trying to remove it desperately but it wouldn't budge at that angle. As she clumsily tried to release herself in a panic, she froze and wave of cold and icy fear washed through her as the monster that had stalked her thus far fell from a rooftop once more into her vision. It was large, hairy and it had a look in its eyes that made Atianna's very soul whimper in a desperate plea to be taken away to safety. Ravenous bloodlust. The red liquid of past kills dripped onto the boardwalk below as the creature licked its lips and began to slowly step forward. It seemed almost hesitant, like a child unknowingly accepting a sweet from a stranger. But this didn't last for long... and within moments it began to charge and lunge.

Atianna shut her eyes and screamed a third and final time, her voice piercing the air and reverberating through the streets of Venice as she braced herself for a blow that would surely bring her short life to an abrupt end.

But... it did not come.

Opening her eyes slowly, she saw him there, in a green and black suit with a slightly tipped hat. Unusual white hair was raggedly sweeping across his face, covering his eyes as always. He was every part the picture of the man she knew everyday, the only difference being a now missing smile. Strings extended from the arm of Rowin Odo and held the werewolfs snout shut, the senseless creature fell to its knees, unable to open it's jaws and completely at the mercy of Mr. Odo. Though it quickly became apparent that mercy was not the serving that Atianna's employer was willing to give. Instead, what followed was a blow struck fiercely as a dish best served cold.

Rowin's boot collided harshly with creature, tossing it haphazardly across the boardwalk for a few feet as the strings retracted back. There had been an unnatural amount of force in that strike. Something Atianna would have never assumed a man was capable of, as she heard the jaw of the monster crack and shatter in many places as the attack did connect.

Tears in her eyes, the young girl raised her head to look at Rowin Odo, as he turned around to tend to her. He knelt upon his knee and placed a hand on her head. It was comforting to her, yet still so very strange, that he would revert so quickly to such a carefree look.

Fear was not so quick to loosen its grip on her heart, however, and she couldn't help but to keep a terrified eye on the monster. Her father had told her stories of beasts and witches--things that prowled in the darkness and gobbled up bad children--but she had eventually stopped believing him, as all children do. And now the proof was in front of her eyes; a limp form in the darkness, defeated in one single moment by her eccentric benefactor.

Atianna's breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened.

She could see movement.

The creature was raising itself to its feet, turning an enraged glare on Rowin Odo, who still had a hand on her head and appeared oblivious to the imminent danger. Attiana wanted more than anything to warn him, but she couldn't force even a single sound past the tightness in her throat. Her breaths came in ever shorter gasps and she could feel the tears gathering behind her eyes. Her body stayed frozen even as the beast crouched down low, its sinister yellow eyes fixed firmly on Rowin's back. Quick as a snake, it pounced, baring its fangs and slashing its great claws at its target with blind fury.

She almost missed the sudden flash of silver from the entrance of the alley before something slammed into the creature's side. There was what sounded like a cut-off yelp and a whine, and Atianna saw something that would have shocked her on any other day.

An old woman, possibly the oldest that she'd ever even seen, had the creature pinned to the ground by the hilt of a sword. For a moment she looked almost vicious, but the expression fled so quickly that Atianna thought it was probably a trick of the darkness. It was with grim concern that the granny turned to face them, sword held firmly against the writhing monster.

"Bad night to come out for a walk," granny commented with a dry chuckle. There was a hint of flavour to her words, something that marked her as not being a born Venetian. Atianna stared at her. She couldn't see anything funny about the situation at all. Her heart was still running fast as a racehorse. Granny continued, "Are you two okay?"

Her voice was still strained from her screams and tears and she found it very difficult to say anything at all. However, Mr. Odo piped in rather quickly. His voice was cheery and almost playful, something that in no way matched the tone or atmosphere of the situation.

"I wouldn't say I wasn't okay. But for my young friend, I fear her words have been stolen by fear and her ankle twisted by luck."

Atianna tried to move her now freed foot and found that it stung with pain at the slightest motion. She hadn't even noticed through her terror but it seemed like she had done some serious damage to her foot and ankle as she fell. She didn't know if she'd be able to walk or move, despite the fact that a part of her was still screaming for her to run away. The squirming creature held back by the sword hilt looked a rightful mess compared to it's originally menacing appearance, one of its claws were chipped and it's fur was ragged from being knocked across the boardwalk, one side of its jaw seemed to bounce unnaturally as it's gnashing grew ever slower. Cuts and small patches of blood adorned it's damaged form and it seemed to be choking from the pressure now applied to its neck.

Mr. Odo, didn't seem bothered at all however as he stepped a tep or two closer to the struggling beast. He watched with great interest as its actions began to slow and drag, becoming drearier and more tired.

"Seems this pup has played enough for today... stupid thing should have settled for a single bone. Maybe then it wouldn't have gotten so hurt."

Atianna felt a little ill in the stomach as she watched what happened next. The creature's fur sunk back into its flesh, the fangs and claws all but faded, turning to fangs and teeth that were not much bigger than her own. She felt a slight gag rise at the chipped fang in particular, as it reformed to a slightly dented human finger, with the large majority of its nail completely missing. The only hair that remained was a patch of brown on the creatures head and is it finished it's transformation Atianna was more than a little surprised to see it take the form of a young man, no more than two years older than herself, pinned nude to the ground in place of the creature that had stalked her so viciously.

Rowin's expression twitched momentarily as he moved forward once more and tapped the sword hilt with a finger, as if gesturing for the elderly fighter to release the boy's neck. Atianna saw the granny give him a piercing look and hesitate for a few seconds before she complied. Once the hilt was moved away, Mr. Odo threw his jacket off and over the boy, covering his nudity and granting a bit of normality to the situation at a glance, though not very much at all.

"Tell me madame, are you aware of the situation then? If you're out saving the little ones and bashing down the hairy ones...? Surely then you must be a heroine of the night! A madame and mistress of the ever changing cycles of the moon!" Mr. Odo was acting as if they were in his workshop, a quiet Sunday afternoon joking with some customers and acting ever so strange and charming. He did a small spin under the night sky and bowed gently, holding the hat upon his head.

"Or maybe you're simply an undertaker of the midnight stroll, a do-gooder on the move through the wrong places at the right times? What say you? Am I even close?"

The granny let out something like a 'harrumph'. Atianna couldn't help but notice that she seemed strangely watchful of Mr. Odo, although her eyes occasionally flickered back to the child. The granny's hands shook almost imperceptibly as she fastened her sword and sheath underneath her coat.

"Heroine of the night? Mistress of the moon? Are you a fish short of a pond, young man?" she snorted derisively. She muttered something under her breath about groceries that Atianna couldn't quite catch.

Finally tearing her eyes away from Mr. Odo, the granny walked slowly over to Atianna where she still knelt, nursing her injured foot. Over the course of their conversation, her heart had finally decided to stop rattling against her ribcage with quite so much fervour. The pain in her leg also settled to a slow, deep throb, and she felt as though she could breathe properly for the first time since this entire ordeal had begun.

With an ease that Atianna had never seen in a woman of her age, the granny crouched down in front of her. "Are you alright, child? Can you walk?"

Atianna sniffled, dabbing at her eyes a little. No doubt she would spend the night reliving the horrifying encounter or bawling into her pillow. For now she was just shellshocked enough to keep from being dragged down by the current of her emotions.

"I don't know, ma'am," she replied quietly, ducking her head away from the granny's gaze. Strangers always left her feeling shy and unsure, even more so if they are the type of strangers that come to people's rescue in the middle of the night. "I-I'll try."

She saw Mr. Odo standing behind her elderly helper, he stood over the boy, a placid look on his face. There was something in his expression that Atianna had never seen before, conflict. He seemed to be struggling with some thoughts swirling around in his eccentric mind, all directed at the unconscious boy on the ground. Atianna saw two blades rise above him, at first they seemed to be floating, but if she squinted she could see that they were suspended by strings. They rushed towards the lying boy and Atianna winced, expected damage to be done...

But nothing happened, they slipped underneath and around the boy, lifting him up and suspending him, wrapping the jacket around him before lowering him into Rowins arms. Did he mean to take that monster with them?

She managed to shift into a crouch without too much difficulty, but as soon as she began to put some weight on her leg, a sharp pain shot up from her ankle. Atianna staggered a little, barely managing to stay upright. Gingerly, she tried to take a step, but her leg completely gave out.

The granny managed to reach out and catch her just as she fell. Atianna didn't notice the uncomfortable, almost panicked look on the old woman's face as she did so. "Here, child," the granny murmured. "You don't gotta push yourself."

The granny considered her carefully, glancing back at Mr. Odo who was still carrying the... boy...? The granny turned around and bent her knees slightly, presenting her back to Atianna. "You'd better just hop on, then. It's the Elderly Express you'll be riding on tonight," she said with a wry smile.

Atianna's eyes grew wide. "A-are you sure? Won't I be too heavy?" She may be small, but she was no longer just a child, and granny really looked very fragile. The image of the old woman pinning a beast onto the ground flashed across her vision for a second, but she quickly pushed it back down.

"Please, you're just a slip of a thing. A breeze could just... blow you over." For some reason, the granny's voice seemed to waver at the end there, something that Atianna only noticed from the little shiver she saw run down the old woman's spine.

"Um, okay," said Atianna. Gingerly, she wrapped her arms around the granny's neck and hoisted herself up her back. It was surprisingly solid and warm beneath her, nothing like the fragility she'd expected.

The granny made sure that Atianna had a firm grip, and then handed her a black parasol. "Hold this for me, would you?" the woman said, less request and more command. Atianna obediently took hold of it as a thought struck her.

"Ma'am," Atianna spoke, "I-if you don't mind my asking, what is your name?"

She couldn't see the granny's expression from where she was, but she felt her still. "...I'm called Keira, child," she replied. "And what might be your name? And that of the mister over there in the black coat?"

"Atianna."

Atianna turned her head to look at Mr. Odo, he was holding the body in his arms and carrying it carefully. She couldn't help but feel spite for the boy. He seemed so harmless now but Atianna had just seen what it was capable of... still Mr. Odo carried him so carefully. She gave him a questioning look, as if to ask him if it was okay for her to tell this stranger his name, regardless of whom saved who she was still very aware that Mr. Odo was her benefactor and that he very much appreciated his privacy. Thankfully, he simply smiled his sharp smile and answered the question for her.

"Really now, young blood of the shining moon, why ask the girl a question relating to me when I stand right here behind you." They walked slowly, presumably due to the weight they were each carrying, though Atianna felt as if they could have been moving faster should they have wanted to.

"...Young blood?" Atianna heard Keira mutter to herself.

"I am a man of a few titles, far and between. Toymaker, Child carer, even "Conductor" once or twice..." He trailed off before grinning widely again. "But for you, my scrupulous salvation and assisting assaulter, Odo is the name. Rowin being the first. Though do feel free to nickname me affectionately." He chuckled gently at his own words and Atianna felt a small little smirk flicker across her lips. She liked Mr. Odo, even if the events just before this now rather unfitting conversation were terrifying, it was almost comforting to see him acting the same even now.

"Hang on, Conductor...?" There was a frown in Keira's voice and she spoke the word as though she tasted familiarity on her tongue. After a pause, Keira appeared to dismiss whatever notion had occurred to her, focusing instead on the present situation. "Rowin. Do you have anywhere secure to take the boy? We shouldn't dawdle, there seem to be more where he came from." Keira turned her head slightly to the left, as though she had heard some kind of sound from that direction. There was a tenseness in her shoulders and occasional tremors running through her body. Atianna thought that she was probably tiring already from carrying such a heavy burden on her back at her age.

"Atianna, child," Keira addressed her once more, "is there anywhere you should be going tonight? Home, perhaps? You'll need to get that looked at in the morning." Keira nodded her head at the injured ankle.

Rowin shook his head and glanced at the injured Atianna, whom nodded her head understandingly. She was tired and injured and her home was much too far away to reach from where they were. At least, if there really were as many creatures about as there seemed to be. "Mr. Odo knows where to go..." The girl quipped quietly and tiredly, her fear fading into exhaustion as the stress tolling on her mind and body began to seep into her state of consciousness and waking.

She watched as Rowin stepped ahead of Keira and Atianna and began to speak once more.

"The poor pet is right. On a terrible night as tonight, we must hasten away from the dark shroud of twilight and hide 'till she passes to dawn." He began to hurriedly step forward, the unconscious boy still motionless in his arms. "My workshop is only just beyond the precipice here. Come along and we'll see to what we need to see to." As he finished speaking Atianna could feel his gaze upon her specifically, he still wore that silly smile he always wore, even now.

"My dear, your time has been rough indeed. So let our new friend and me take your key and unlock the door of stress now locking you away from the realm of dreams."

She was so very tired... and the journey to the workshop suddenly seemed to pass so quickly. She could see the still gently glowing lamp in the workshop window, exactly as she had left it not too long ago. Yet Rowin was still looking right at her, he was so very odd... she knew, but he had protected her and been there for her when she needed it most and she felt safe as she finely faded away to the last of the words given onto her.

"Goodnight, dear Atianna, I promise that by the mornings light you shan't need to worry no more."

---

​

 

[Shak]

Give until it hurts

Lorenzo Immobile
21 | Male | Draconian
June 18th


​

"Please sir, spare some change." A ragged looking man sat at the edge of the bridge. His head appeared to carry more dirt than it did hair, and it would be a safe assumption that the man didn't find his garments in the shade of brown that they were. Lorenzo scoffed at the man's request.

"Unlike you, time isn't a luxury I have." He didn't even bother to grant the man the respect of minor eye contact, or even a glance in his direction. Every word was loud enough for him to hear though. He strolled straight past the homeless man and into the gates of 'Pastry Place' restaurant.

The tables were neatly organised and had parasols deployed over them. Lorenzo swiped a breadstick from one of the tables as he strutted into the building. The red and black designs on walls were complimented nicely by the cream designs on the tables. For the most part, the place was pretty empty, but that could be put down to the time of day it was. He slid into a booth, without having been waited on. A few minutes went by, until he was eventually served by a waiter. Lorenzo sat at the opposite end of the rounded table to the man.

"Can I help you sir?" The man asked with a smile on his face, and a notepad in his hand. Lorenzo crunched his breadstick, and took the liberty of chewing and swallowing before responding. It wasn't a great first impression, and the man couldn't hide his disgust.

"I want to speak with your manager, the service here is appalling." He stated, with an air of disinterest about him; He took another crunch of his breadstick mid-sentence. It took the manager ten minutes to provide Lorenzo with his time. Lorenzo, who had waited patiently, greeted the man professionally, before shooing away the employee. In order to avoid invading his customer's personal space, the manager pulled up a chair from another table and sat down.

"Is there something I can do for you, sir?" The manager was understandably frustrated. Lorenzo was able to quickly infer this from his body language and tone. He grinned.

"Well..." He gazed at the man's chest to read his nametag. The man noticed it, but attempted to stay discreet about his disapproval. "…Paulo, I have a proposition for you." He rested his face gently on his fist, and failed to contain his grin, as he leaned forward onto the table between them. Paulo furrowed his brows. The man looked back at his employees that watched from a distance.

"A proposition?" He asked, he seemed to snarl as he did so. He too leaned forward. It was clear that the conversation had become more confrontational.

"Perhaps we should talk somewhere private." Lorenzo suggested. He backed out of the stare down, and leaned back against the backrest, but still maintained eye contact with Paulo.

"Why the hell should I listen to you?" The man scoffed in response. His bitterness was clear, despite the mask of arrogance he wore. Lorenzo frowned. For the first time in the conversation, he broke eye contact. He could tell that it put the man at unease, since it removed the belief that he was in control of the conversation. Without saying a word, he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table. Paulo gazed down at the folded page. "The hell is this?" He growled angrily as he stood up. His chair was knocked down behind him, and the few people that had attended the restaurant so early looked over at him. The setting forced him to keep his cool, a fact that the younger man was more than happy to play on.

"Shh…shhh…shhh, not so loud," Lorenzo begun. It was obvious he was being scornful, but he didn't seem to care much. "You wouldn't want to make a scene." He resisted the urge to chuckle. The man opened the page out hesitantly. The bottom half of his face was covered by the sheet, it didn't take too much effort for Lorenzo to work out his jaw had dropped. Immediately after seeing the incriminating details on the page, the man slammed it face down on the table, looking around apprehensively.

"I have your attention then?" The blackmailer grinned.

Lorenzo and Paulo found themselves discussing the situation in the restaurant's kitchen. They were in the backroom, with a reliable separation between them and the chefs. The manager sat behind his desk, while his client didn't care to sit down.
Lorenzo dropped his bag, which hit the desk with some force. Paulo gazed down at the surprisingly heavy bag, before looking back at the man that dropped it in confusion. Lorenzo opened the dropped bag, revealing a large mass of loot.

"That's…how did you…wha-" The man stuttered. Someone like himself would've never seen so much money in one place before, despite being a businessman. Lorenzo looked at him sternly.

"Shut up." He muttered, not bothering to look at the stammering man. The man was forced to compose himself, at Lorenzo's command.

"You-you want me to launder it?" Paulo panted. In an attempt to contain himself, the man loosened his collar, and took a sip of the water on his desk. Lorenzo rolled his eyes at either the man's disgusting state of panic, either at that, or the stupidity of his question. He began to pour the money out onto the floor

"Why the hell would I want you handling my money?" He responded coldly. Paulo peered over the desk, and watched in awe, as the cash tumbled down like a waterfall. He gulped, as he looked back at the source of the raining money. "I want you to distribute it, spread it around the city." Lorenzo finished pouring the money, and threw his bag over his shoulder. There was a certain emptiness about the room, once the sound of falling money ended. It had been going for so long Paulo had almost forgotten what it sounded like before it began.

"Why?" Paulo called out reluctantly.

"Use your trade, you don't want it all to in the hands of your customers." Lorenzo added, ignoring the man's question. Paulo was confused, but refused to ask more questions.

"But, the majority of my trade has been wrecked by the damned werewolf outbreak." Paulo explained, his eyes full of terror. Plundered goods are bad for business; plundered money, that'd been stolen, is very bad for business. He waited for Lorenzo to respond.

"Werewolf outbreak?" Lorenzo asked in confusion. Even some one as irrelevant as him couldn't know that Lorenzo attended the De'Medici ball. The man's train of thought turned from self-pity, straight to confusion. Lorenzo gave him no time to explain, as he was already through the door. Only two clumps of the money were kept for himself. He grinned as he left the building.

On his way home, he noticed the same homeless man that was begging for money when he arrived. The man was naive enough to ask Lorenzo again.

"Please sir, spare some change?" He shook the cup in his hand, hoping to hear it hit by a coin or two. Without stopping, or taking time to glance at the man, Lorenzo threw one of the clumps on the homeless man's lap, then continued across the bridge. He heard the grovelling man expressing his enormous gratitude, behind him. He took no time to acknowledge him, he simply grinned as he strolled home.

​

 

[gimmepie]

Adalina "Pixie" Capello

Aged 21 | Female | Fae​

---

On the Job​

Adalina walked along the edge of the canal, the night air cool and the shine of the full moon illuminating the surface of the water. Ordinarily, she wouldn't dare walk so brazenly out in the open when on the job. Part of her renown as Pixie, was her secrecy and stealth – her ability to get the job done quietly and quickly without being noticed. Things were different on this night however, the influx of werewolves that had been overrunning Venice were keeping people indoors at night and making them hurry during the day. This allowed Adalina to walk in the open by the canal without worrying about being caught. Most people didn't even want to look out of their windows, just in case a pair of vicious yellow eyes looked back on them from the other side.

Adalina wasn't like them. She didn't fear the werewolves. She was confident in her abilities and was sure that despite their immense strength and speed no beast would catch her. If she could outwit the de Medici and the Omicidio families, surely she could outsmart any werewolf that targeted her and escape? She had much more important things to do than worry about big angry dogs. Pixie was working that night and her mind was focused on her goal.

The de Medici had some sort of big important function on that night, which meant their storehouses were only going to be guarded by the lowest grunts around. Whenever the big families threw their balls and held their meetings, it was always the ideal time for Pixie to strike and make off with something of real value, unlike the trinkets and minor artefacts she could take with ease from minor subsidiaries of the families or merchants.

Adalina turned around the corner and into a narrow side street. She couldn't walk in the open from here on out, werewolves or not it was no longer reasonable for her to expect not to be watched. In fact, even the lowly grunts she was likely to encounter would likely be on an even higher alert considering the influx of lycans. Supernatural beings did have a tendency to show up where supernatural items were found in abundance after all. That was bound to be a part of why Venice was teeming with all kinds of monsters.

Adalina continued down the street, ordinarily the thin road was populated by desperate merchants attempting to flog their wears at a price cheaper than the more notable stores nearby, often with surprising success. Adalina's father would often frequent these impromptu markets before he managed to get his little store set up. They were usually bustling places, however now the street was quiet and barren. Not even Adalina's light steps truly disturbed the quiet.

Smirking, Adalina adjusted the intricate butterfly-shaped mask that covered the upper two thirds of her youthful-looking face. She turned into an alleyway and approached the back of a small building.
"Time to go to work."​

 

[Ice1]

Arabella Sciacallo

Wolves and weaknesses​

From where she was standing, the street existed merely as small circles of light. Between them there was nothing. The oil lamps had a very limited reach, and they left Venice pitch black at night. The streets existed merely of visible spots, and the canals where nothing but a reflection of the night sky. This darkness was ideal to operate for Arabella. She looked up, to the star filled night sky, and looked at the moon. It was a sliver away from being full. Tomorrow would be the real full moon. She wondered how the city would deal with it, considering there was a werewolf infestation going on. Which is why she was standing where she was, the rooftop of one of her families banks. Not even a day after the first werewolf popped up and tried to maul the de' Medici party, a werewolf of similar nature had attacked this bank. Or so her brother told her at least, when he came to visit her, just two hours ago. This new wave of werewolves apparently was very unexperienced, young, and most of all, stupid. They seemed to act without pattern, so based on instinct that any logical thought was thrown out. Normally, a feral werewolf's behavior was predictable: they were out for blood, and they were hungry. The young ones, however, seemed to have no pattern at all. They acted with childish curiosity, which combined with their superhuman strength, made them very dangerous.

A big animal appeared in one of the circles of dim light, running down the street. When it passed through the lights, it looked like it appeared and disappeared again. Arabella changed her stance, waited for a second, and leaped of the building. In mid-air, she grabbed a dagger, and when she had landed, it was driven in the back of the head of a werewolf. The corpse started to morph, and the beast changed into a young girl, around the age of 7. Arabella hadn't yet figured out if she was enjoying the situation. On one hand, she loved the action, and it gave a great rush to take down these big beasts so easily, but when it changed back to such a young girl, her heart dropped for a second. It didn't catch her by surprise, she knew the nature of these wolves, but killing a child still felt wrong, somehow.

Her thoughts were disrupted by growling. Out of an alleyway stepped three werewolves. Their jaws looked bloody, and they reeked of death. They looked upon their fallen friend, and in the blink of an eye, they were on all fours, circling Arabella.
"You filthy creatures," she spat out, and threw a dagger towards one of the werewolves. The wolf leaped forward, and the blade twirled underneath him, missing the beast. Immediately the other two wolves jumped towards Arabella. She took out one of her daggers, and without seconds to waste drove it up the stomach of one of the werewolves nearing her. With her other hand she grabbed the other werewolf's jaw, and shut it tight. With her vampiric strength, she put a lot of force onto the beasts jawbone, and she could hear it crack under the force of her hand.
"On your knees," Arabella said. Her voice was laced with disgust. The third werewolf stood in front of her. It's neckhair pointing up, and it was growling. The wolf she just stabbed lay on the ground, shrieking in pain, and the other one was begging her to be released. It was this position of power Arabella yearned for. Then the wolf in front of her leaped again, knocking her over. She lost control of the wolf whose jaw she just broke, but in the fall managed to grab one of her remaining daggers and stab her attacker. With a quick poke to the stomach, she ended the lycan.

And then she stood alone, surrounded by three corpses of creatures that were not meant to die yet. She had decided on how to feel about this situation. Hurting these monsters, there was fun in that. Killing them, however, she would do quickly, and not turn back to the bodies. It was a conflict of interest she thought she had solved well. Now she needed to hunt down that last werewolf, the one whose jaw she broke. It got away, and she would not accept an escapee, a survivor, a sign of her weakness.
​

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[Winter]

Argenta de Bianco
Miss Silver

Once Bitten...

​

Argenta heard a faint euphonious chime. She slipped a bookmark in between the pages she was at, and closed the tome, before making her way out to the counter. A young scrawny boy stood by the counter where the bell was, his brown tousled hair peeking over the countertop.

"Hello there, how may I help you?"

There was an awkward silence as hazel eyes stared back at her with a glint of fear. The boy's entire appearance was disheveled; his clothes were worn and dirty and his skin was specked with scratches and bruises. There was a distinct smell of not bathing for days, but Argenta was never one to judge her customers by their externalities.

"D-do you have a cure for bites?"

Argenta walked out to the front of the counter, crouching down to meet the boy at eye level.

"That depends on what kind of bites," she smiled.

"Umm..." The boy seemed more unnerved, his lanky figure tensing up when Argenta approached.

"It's an unusual bite."

"What does it look like? May I have a look?" The boy flinched, his face turned into a cadaverous sheet as he backed away.

"I-I wasn't bitten... It was my f-friend!"

"Oh, could you at least describe the bite marks?"

"It's like an animal bite..."

"A snake? A rat?" She probed. The boy grew visibly uncomfortable and nervous, as Argenta pressed further. "A dog? Was it rabid?"

He shook his head, forehead glistening with a sheen of sweat. "I don't know. I don't know what it was!"

His face was stricken with fear, almost on the verge of breaking down into tears. Without warning, the boy dashed out of the apothecary, leaving the door banging in his wake.

"Wait!" Argenta ran out into the cobbled streets. Night had already fallen over Venice, like a veil. The skies were painted in strokes of blue hues, and the moon was on its slow ascent – large, pearly and almost full. Argenta looked through the windows at the clock sitting on the wall. 8.15 P.M.

A chill ran down her spine.

From the city yonder, a somber howl echoed through the early night. She rushed back into the apothecary, grabbing her kit, and donning her mask. She heard at least two more howls, far and faint, as she locked the doors. The cogs in her head were spinning as she headed in the general direction of where she heard the howls. Cuts and bruises. Unnatural bites. An explicit sign of lycanthropy, as written in The Almanac of the Supernatural and many other journals.

It was not long before she rounded onto another street and nearly bumped into an old man. His blanched face was the epitome of fear, mouth agape with foam at the wrinkled lips such that she could see his teeth or lack thereof. Argenta almost thought she saw a dark blotch on his pants.

"The beast... The beast..." His lips trembled. "Oh Santa Maria Vergine!"

"Where did it go?" He lifted a crooked finger, towards the shadowy back alleys.

She made sure he was unharmed, told him to get home as swiftly as possible, before she headed off in the direction he had pointed to.

Argenta tightened her grip on her kit as she stepped into the darkness of the Venetian labyrinth. Entering the alley networks of Venice in the night is not anyone with a sane mind would do, and is especially not for the powerless mortal human. While there were busy alleys with stores, bars and cafes opened through the night, there were smaller, derelict back alleys which were home to shadier creatures – hidden corners that the locals would prefer to forget exist.

It reeked of death and rot, like a wound left to fester, and the malodor grew in strength with each step. Garbage cans lined the alleyway, some with overturned contents. Argenta thought she glimpsed a hand, and averted her gaze immediately to prevent any emesis. She arrived at a crossroads, and chose to follow left when she heard another howl resonate in the distance.

A low growl followed. This time, it was nearer. Too near.​

 

[doge]

Renée de Fiore​

Blood trickled down onto the stone floor as Renée held her head in shame. The cut across her cheek was fresh and wide, from ear nearly to nose. The blood-stained whip cracked against the stone floor, leaving a streak of blood in front of her hands. Her knees, gashed from previous whippings, stung as she kneeled. Pebbles and little splits of wood dug into her wounds.

"Look up." Anger and impatience characterized the voice speaking down to her. With shameful eyes she lifted her head, only to meet the disgusted gaze of Rodrigo Omicidio. He sneered, "What's with that pitiful look?"

He lifted his leg and pressed his foot down on Renée's shoulder. "Tell me again, why weren't you able to bring that boy with you?"

"I was not inform-" Rodrigo applied a forceful amount of pressure onto Renée's shoulder; it was not the answer he wanted to hear. She fought back the urge to wince, although it felt like her shoulder was about to be torn from its socket.

"My most gracious apologies, Master Rodrigo. I swear upon my life that my incompetence will not bring forth any further inconveniences." She bowed to the one foot he left on the ground, and Rodrigo removed his other foot from her shoulder. He sneered once more and spat to the side of her.

"As if your life has any worth to it." Rodrigo pulled out the sack Renée had retrieved earlier. "While you failed to bring that boy back, and that does set my business plans back a bit, you did manage to return with this safely." His voice softened slightly.

Renée's eyes, away from Rodrigo's sight, lit up from the words. Although it wasn't much of a compliment, Renée hung on to the words of the Omicidio family, and even the slightest of praise sent her mood rocketing skywards, and these circumstances were well known and abused among the Omicidio's. Renée herself knew that the words were often empty, but she cherished them regardless. She smiled for a brief moment but then regained her composure. From prior experiences she knew that even the slightest show of emotion was rarely ever well met.

"Take this, tomorrow night I'm going to need you to perform a trade." He dropped the sack in Renée's hands. "Wait at the port sometime after dusk. A relatively small ship will come into the harbor, and then you'll make the exchange. Here's a chance to redeem yourself, shewolf. If you fail me again you know what will happen. Oh, and clean up this mess while you're here." Rodrigo motioned towards the blood on the floor.

The door to the cellar room slammed shut behind Rodrigo, leaving Renée locked in it's cold and lonely walls for the night, and most likely forthcoming day. Despite this, Renée managed a genuine smile. She carefully placed the seemingly important sack aside, safely in a corner, and then ripped a piece of her dress off, planning to use it as a rag. Conveniently a bucket half-filled with water was also in the room, she assumed it was to be for both cleaning and drinking.

As Renée worked to scrub her own blood off the stone floor, she thought of tomorrow and then suddenly she could feel its presence coursing through her veins. The full moon, the real full moon would show tomorrow night. Something inside her felt as if there was no way she could fail under it's light. A wide, ear-to-ear grin enveloped her face, and she couldn't help but giggle. She ran her finger along the thin gash across her cheek and whispered gratefully to the empty air, "Thank you for another chance…"​

 

[Shak]

The Secrets of a Happy Marriage

Lorenzo Immobile
21 | Male | Draconian
June 18th


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"A man who's late to the viewing of his own wedding venue, isn't a man cares much for his wife, is he?" Giovanni De'Medici began to lecture his future nephew-in-law about his punctuality. The family's head stood amongst a small crowd consisting of: himself, his eldest son, and his younger brother.

"I apologise for my lateness. Though I hope Helena understands, I do prefer a marriage to be based on love, and mutual understanding; as opposed to a strict regime of call and heed." Lorenzo tried to seem as sincere in his apology, as he could possibly be, though he couldn't help but chuckle slightly. He bowed his head in order to show respect to his senior family members. It seemed Giovanni wasn't buying in to his remorseful gestures. The elder man wasn't impressed.

"I was under the impression that we all had a mutual understanding that the time you were supposed to be here for ten. It's almost noon now, add that to the fact you have the nerve to avoid explaining yourself." Giovanni continued. Though he sounded rather frustrated, Lorenzo felt it best to take his words lightly.

"I won't happen again uncle." Lorenzo said softly. Giovanni's scowl turned to a soft glare. It was clear to Lorenzo that the man had no clue how to react, which he was more than happy to take advantage of. "I had an issue at breakfast. I was forced to speak to the manager." He stated truthfully. Of course he left out crucial information.

"It's fine." He sighed. He was quick to recover from his disgruntled state. Gerardo, Giovanni's younger brother and Lorenzo's future brother in law, grabbed a red envelope from the table behind him.

"A royal seal?" He questioned after examining the back of the envelope. A confused Lorenzo looked up at Gerardo, before looking back down at the paper in his hand. It had already been opened, so it was safe to assume he was supposed to read the contents.

Lorenzo didn't hesitate any longer. He took no care in ripping the letters casing, despite it being royal red. He never considered himself to be very patriotic, and the current Doge had bigger things to worry about than ripped pieces of paper. Lorenzo was much more patriarchal, since being head of the De'Medici family was a much more desirable position than being Doge. More money, less responsibility.

The engaged man read the page. The wedding is being moved to two days from now. Those were the words that stood out most to Lorenzo. ****. He thought to himself, as he let a small frown come across his face.

"I see." He tried to mask his disappointment. "Has the werewolf outbreak really caused that much panic?" He asked, feigning ignorance. Being a man who had some kind of 'little bird' in every corner of Venice, Lorenzo was very aware of what was going on. "We have to decline, we haven't had nearly enough time to organise everything." It wasn't often Lorenzo was forced to express panic, but the situation called for it.

"It makes sense." Giovanni maintained his cool. "The Lycan outbreak is causing a stir. It would be wise to construct some sort of distraction for the public. We're going to accept the Doge's request." The composed man continued. It's not like Lorenzo could argue, Giovanni and Gerardo were the ones funding the event. He sighed to himself and nodded obediently.

Following the short discussion he'd had with his future uncle in-law, Lorenzo chose to pay visit to his bride to be. As he approached De'Medici manner, he attempted to address the guard standing by, but his gesture garnered no response. His curiosity made him persistent.

"A new guard?" He asked with a bouncy tone. Still, the guard refused to pay the young man any response. Lorenzo rolled his eyes. If the man was going to play 'the honourable guard', Lorenzo wouldn't bother toying with him. "Open the door." The frustrated man commanded. In response to the imperative request, the guard swung the door open, and nodded at Lorenzo. The latter of whom, glared at the former as he slid through the open door.

"Lorenzo." Helena swooned, as her brooding sweetheart stepped through the door. She jumped up, to fall into his arms, but the man seemed more interested in the situation with the earlier guard.

"New guard I see." He grumbled. He couldn't shake his apparent interest in the situation with the guard.

"Oh, don't tell me you miss Sir Candreva." She chuckled playfully, referring to Lorenzo's relationship with the knight he called Figaro.

"Sir Candreva?" Lorenzo responded, emphasising Helena's use of the word sir. "He's a knight?" He almost rolled his eyes as he said it. His Fiancé nodded innocently.

"Is that really what you came here to talk about?" She questioned, as she continued to entice him by removing her gown seductively. Lorenzo still refused to show interest, and the young woman began to grow frustrated as a result. "Are you seriously focusing on a stupid guard?" She even surprised herself with her tone, but that didn't lead her to believe it was unwarranted. Her husband to be, remained facing forward. He rustled around in his coat pocket, and took out the letter, gesturing for Helena to take it.

The young woman was hesitant, but eventually took the letter out of the envelope. After reading it, she was silent for a few seconds. Lorenzo heard her begin to squeal slightly behind him. The noise confused him, but he was buried far too deep in thought for concern himself. The squealing sound was followed up by cheering and bouncing. He couldn't resist. He turned to see his future wife bouncing up and down on her bed in celebration. The sight made him sigh.

"Lorenzo this is amazing! I've got my dress, the venue's been chosen, we have no reason not to do it!" The cheering began to irritate Lorenzo. The only thing that irritated him more was the fact that she was right. He reflected on what he'd told Giovanni. It was a lie. Everything else had long since been organised, by Helena herself. The whole thing put a dent in his plan, he needed to think fast, which was annoying. On the bright side, at least he had a happy wife, and it wouldn't be wise of him to try to change that.

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[Ice1]

Arabella Sciacallo

Rose​

Arabella had narrowed down the location of the escaped wolf to a small alleyway. Its stench and the drops of blood on the streets made it fairly easy for her to chase down the lycan. The light shone in its fur at the end of the alleyway. It gazed towards Arabella, and quickly jumped away. It took mere seconds for the vampire to catch up to the werewolf. It lay cowering in a socket, licking the blood of its lips.
Disgust.
That's what she felt for the creature. It was the worst combination of power and ineptness. It had the potential to be a hunter, and it let itself be prey. This disgusting creature of weakness. It did not deserve to be alive. A kid like this would never grow strong if it had to run off to lick its wounds.
Just a minute had passed from when she started chasing the wolf to when she drove her dagger in its neck. Fifteen minutes later she was back in her bed, in her white night gown.

"The beast was huge, my love," Alessio said, describing the werewolf that attacked the bank he was at. "I know Alfredo already told you, but I believe his description does not do the beast justice. Never in my life have I seen such a huge werewolf before." He wandered to the window, staring at the sun reflecting in the canals. "Luckily for us, and mainly me, the beast did not dare nearing me, and the guards drove him out, but I can't see that I was anything less than…" He paused for a second, "pissing myself. I am simply not made to deal with such vile creatures." Arabella's brother stared at his hand, and grabbed a vile for a pocket. "Sometimes I envy you for the simplicity that you live in, dearest sister." Her brothers patronizing behavior was awful. From her two brothers, Alessio was Arabella's least favorite. He was incredibly vain, and arrogant. He was a very handsome man, but the guy seemed to put his appearance above all. He did have his redeeming qualities, though. While he may patronize her, he did genuinely care for her. Alessio certainly visited the most, and if she ever needed something, he would take care of it. Sometimes, he would sit next to her bed for an hour, after she pretended to sleep, in complete silence. He would be reading by candlelight, or sometimes even just holding her hand, and he always left with a kiss to the forehead.
"It's been two nights since these monster showed up. You'd hope the doge would take action at this point. I can't imagine it being fun ruling a city filled with cannibalizing, feral children." He sat down in the chair next to Arabella's bed, and grabbed her hand.
"How have you been, sister?" He asked, as he did every time he visited.
"Like the rose in our flower bed." They spoke in unison, as they did every time he asked the question. It was funny, the sentence had different meanings for them. For her, it used to mean that she felt like she was withering away. For him, it meant that she was still beautiful, and of course had not left the house. Now it meant nothing to her. She wasn't withering away like a dying flower, she was in permanent blossom. It was just a sign of familiarity, a ritual that felt nice to repeat.
"I can assure you that your life is more interesting than mine at this moment." She smiled. "Dear bedbound me lacks excitement." It felt weird saying that. It felt like she was admitting to weakness. "If you could just tell your stories, then I will listen." She closed her eyes, and laid her head back, as if she going to sleep. Her brother's voice filled the room for another hour, and she pretended to douse off.

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[Ice1]

Arc 1, part 2: Cleaners

June 18th​

"I heard you sent a letter to Giovanni," Giorgio said, his voice sounded disappointed. Marcantonio sighed. "I… I panicked okay. I thought that if they moved that wedding people would be distracted." He drove his face between his hands. "It's difficult, okay?" He stood up. "People love it when young people are in love, right? I mean, you told me. Nothing remedies a crisis more than a wedding!" His voice went very high pitched at the end. Giorgio walked up to the doge, and put his hand on his shoulder. "I know what I said, Tony, but it's not in your, or in mister de' Medici's interest, that you let these wolves walk free. A wedding won't hide a crisis if it gets that dangerous. Such events might make the people forget their hunger or their lack of money for a while, but they won't feel safe against these werewolves. What you need to do is solve this quickly, and with force."
"Force…" Marcantonio sounded very insecure, "I can't say I'm huge on the whole violence thing, Giorgio."
A considerable sigh came from Giorgio.
"Look, just signal a curfew, and have your people cleaning the street. I'll make sure Giovanni puts resources to it too, it's really the best option now."
"…" The doge was on the edge of speaking, but he just opened his mouth and closed it again.
"Look, Tony, it's a full moon tonight, you really want to handle quickly now. We'll send a cleaning group through the city. If it works we'll say it was your idea," he stood up, and walked up to the huge door, "and if it doesn't, we'll say it was your idea."
The door closed with a loud bang, and the doge couldn't help but shake.

 

[gimmepie]

Adalina "Pixie" Capello

Aged 21 | Female | Fae​

---

Browsing the Store​

Adalina easily managed to scale the outside and open the unlatched window on the buildings second story, climbing through silently and finding herself in the middle of a relatively large room for the size of the store. Piled on wooden shelves and desks around the room was a large number of books and artefacts.

The small shop seemed like an ordinary bookstore on the first floor, perhaps with living quarters upstairs. Only those with reason knew of the treasure trove of supernatural texts and artefacts upstairs from the simple shop. Adalina had visited it a few times when she was doing recon in the area. Most of the buildings on the street were actually de Medici fronts for one reason or another. At least one had been bound to be a storehouse and sure enough, it had been quite easy for Adalina to find out which.

The time for recon was long past though, now she had to silently take anything good and get out before the two men downstairs noticed her presence. Adalina crept quietly around the room, it seemed this was a lower grade storehouse as nothing of an enormous value jumped out to her immediately – well except for an intricate talisman that burned her hand when it turned out to be made of iron.
"Not that then" she sighed, cringing and waggling her hand to try and lessen the pain.

Adalina continued around the room, grabbing a book or an item of interest occasionally a dropping it into a small clothe sack she carried. She would be careful not to take too much; otherwise she would only be slowed down. It was nearly twenty minutes later when Adalina took her final piece of new merchandise, a simple rod of solid gold with several jewels of different colours placed around one end. That object Adalina could tell would be worth some actual money, she had acquired an eye for that sort of thing. What the item did, she did not have the faintest idea of mind you.

Adalina stowed the rod away in her bag before silently weaving her way back to the window. She peered out of it quickly, ensuring nobody was in the street below to spy her, then bundled the bag up tightly in her arms to be certain in would clang or damage any of the goods within when they inevitably banged together if held loose. Adalina then jumped from the window onto the ground below, landing nimbly on her feet her magic cushioning her landing.

Adalina quickly begun to make her way down the street but soon stopped suddenly. A pair of shining yellow eyes was watching her from the distance. She made to turn back around but froze before making much of a movement. A low growl came from behind her and hot meaty breath hit the back of her head.​

 

[Shak]

Desire: The Root of All Evil

Lorenzo Immobile
21 | Male | Draconian
June 18th


​

The sound of dripping water echoed in the distance. The dim lighting would've made small sounds like that more prominent to any normal human, but Lorenzo's draconian vision remained unimpaired. He glanced lazily up at the starlit sky, which seemed empty by its usual standards. The lights of the Venetian streets didn't reach this far into the depths of the slums. It was home; though Lorenzo was never one for appreciating nostalgia. His life wasn't exactly one that many would envy, at least not before his 'big move', anyway.

"You're Lorenzo Immobile?" A voice scoffed behind him. Lorenzo couldn't help but cringe at the grotesque butchering in the pronunciation of his surname.

"Were you expecting someone taller?" Lorenzo retorted, beating the man to the punch. He assumed the man would resort to that cliché line. A judging by the man's moronic expression, he was right. He just saved himself a tedious affair of mediocre retorts and one-liners, which would've eventually lead to the half-wit's pathetic defeat. His glare carried an almost natural level of disinterest, barely bothering to even glance in the direction of the man he was conversing with. The man did his best to shroud his unease. "I presume you're the one they sent." He said, taking charge of the situation.

"Yes, but before we offer you our services, the boss wants to negotiate a deal with you." The man said meekly, but attempting to maintain a stern tone.

"You've already been paid." Lorenzo turned slowly, to face the man he was talking to. He had no interest in negotiating anything, nor did he want to waste time talking to this man's boss.

"He's very happy with the payment; but he says you have other…" He paused for a moment, in an attempt to recall the exact word his boss used. "…assets that could benefit us." He smiled in the pride that he'd been able to remember the word. Lorenzo on the other hand, wasn't as pleased about such notions.

"I have other assets. None that someone such as yourself would be able to access though." He frowned. "There are many a mercenary littered around Venice, any one of them would be happy to be paid to play exterminator. Tell me, what could your boss possibly offer a priceless man?" He grabbed a coin that he'd been twiddling in his pocket for a while now and threw it to the mercenary. The man caught the coin and examined it. On one side, the standard image of the doge; on the other, writing. The words read-To the rise and honour of the De'Medici, forever, onwards and beyond. The pride of Venice.
"Every man has his price Mr. Immobile." He mumbled in deep thought. He began twiddling coin.

"You fools spend your time trying to work out mine." He grinned, as he began walking away. "It's pronounced Im-mo-bee-lay by the way, butchering your clients name isn't a great business strategy." He chuckled. He'd left the man in bafflement. He continued twiddling his coin, but could say no more.

As he strolled down Romulo Boulevard, Lorenzo couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had plagued him since he left the mercenary. Had they been tailing him this whole time? He glanced back. Nothing. Lorenzo was far from a paranoid man, he took a lot of precautions, but could hardly be described as paranoid. He heard snarling coupled with fatigued grunting, not too far from his location. The gentle breezed urged him in that direction. He sighed, before complying.

Venice nights had been much quieter since the werewolf fiasco had begun, for better or for worse, it made Lorenzo more carefree. There was a boy, seemingly half way through his teen years, combating a wolf not much bigger than himself. The boy was clearly on the defensive, while the wolf seemed reluctant to go in for a fatal blow. Lorenzo stood as an observer, watching the ongoing attack.

After watching the boy barely keep himself alive against the wolf, Lorenzo finally got bored, and began approaching the canine. It quickly jolted its head, as it heard the steady footsteps nearing it. The cubs frenetic nature made it again jolt its head to the sound of the young man calling out to Lorenzo.

"Sir, run! This werewolf is crazy!" The boy wailed. His attempt at heroism made Lorenzo chuckle slightly. As he did so, his iris thinned, resembling that of a reptile. He looked up at the pup with a sinister smile, it charged him and managed to get a claw into Lorenzo's flesh, but it wasn't enough. The Draconian half-breed raised his hand and forced his palm into the wolf's snout. The boy cringed at the large whimpering noise the cub produced. Lorenzo sighed as he examined the rips in his clothing. There was nothing more of interest to him here, he casually walked past the dismantled canine in the direction of his house.

"Go home before you end up dead." He said to the boy, not bothering to look at him. Behind him, the being that he'd just put down was now a small girl. The boy watched the transformation in shock and horror. Lorenzo showed no interest.

"Sir…umm" The boy stuttered, pointing towards the child. Lorenzo turned, and saw the small girl lying on the floor. He shrugged and continued walking. "Sir!" The boy attempted to get his attention again.

"I know." Lorenzo responded. The boy ran over to the girl that had previously tried to kill him, and examined the body.

"She's alive!" The teen concluded after further examination. "You have to help her!" He swung the body, now significantly smaller than himself, onto his back and jogged over to Lorenzo. Lorenzo continued to walk, and the boy followed behind him in silence. Eventually he decided it best to spark conversation. "Thanks for saving me back there. The names Caesar by the way." He piped. Lorenzo ignored him. "So, I'm guessing you're not a human then, I've never seen a monster before." He chuckled in composed excitement.

"Monster isn't the politically correct term." Lorenzo put his hands in his pockets as he walked. The boy's words made him recall moments in his childhood. He quickly repressed those memories.

"I'm-I'm sorry if I offended. I was never really taught to value manners and stuff like that." Caesar murmured. Lorenzo stopped walking and faced the Caesar. It was only then that the height difference between the two became so apparent, Lorenzo having almost a full foot over the teenager.

"What do you value?" He asked, looking down at him. Caesar was shocked by the question, and took a moment to consider his answer. Lorenzo decided it best to elaborate on his question. "What do you consider the most valuable thing in the world?" He added.

"Umm…I guess it always changes, right? There's never one thing that stays there." He blinked, before grinning in pride over his answer. Even Lorenzo grinned.

"Surely you can categorise it." Lorenzo probed. He raised his brow with intrigue. This kid had more to him than Lorenzo had first thought. After a moment of deep thought, Caesar shook his head.

"I guess it's whatever you need at the time." He shrugged. Lorenzo continued walking. He looked up again at the sky, at the moon; the moon was full. He smiled.

"The most valuable thing in the world, is whatever others want. The reason money has remained valuable for so long, is that it's perpetually needed. If shops and trades changed their demands; let's say they want dirt now, families like the De'Medicis and the Omicidis would start to look pretty impuissant now wouldn't they." Lorenzo chuckled.

"Impuissant?" Caesar's expression was blank.

"Powerless, weak, impotent." He looked back up at the moon. The full moon wasn't a great time to be combating werewolves. He looked at the two children that he'd just saved and sighed. Things had just gotten complicated, but he still had to get rid of those damned vermin.

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