“I’ll get that,” Evelina announced, already striding towards the door. She opened the door, her eyes first getting caught by the penetrating stare originating from a dark skinned woman with short, curly hair. Her scrutinizing glare was aimed at an even more peculiarly looking woman. If there was one word that would aptly describe this woman, it was Purple. Her hair, falling down to her middle back, was a dark purple, with her eyes being coloured a lighter shade. Her lips were also adorned by the same purple colour as her hair, as were her nails; long and well maintained. She wore a black, knee-long skirt and a white shirt which was neither loose nor tight. In her hands were a large silver platter filled with various kinds of fruit, waffles, pancakes, and an assortment of other breakfast products. None of what she wore or held was what Evelina was focused on, however. Instead she simply held the gaze of the newcomer, lips parted and eyes wide in surprise. “Octavia?!” She exclaimed in an excited voice. “What’re you doing here?” The purple haired woman—Octavia, as was her name—grinned where Evelina stood dumbfounded. “Hi Evelina! I see you’ve finally gotten brave enough to show ‘em off to the world? Anyway, I was supposed to give this to Miss Castalia. I was told she’d be staying here with a guest. Imagine my surprise when I found it was you!” She giggled, taking a step forward in a silent request for entry, one which Evelina complied with and stepped back. She was about to just call for Lucania when she had an idea. Octavia had said “Castalia,” and while she wasn’t much interested in politics or the great companies in Dust, she had heard of one infamous family: The Castalias. Said to be the largest mafia organization in the entire continent, an accomplishment that was nothing to sneeze at. She smiled faintly and, looking over her shoulder, called. “It’s breakfast, Miss Castalia.” The casual way with which she just called for Lucania earned her a dissatisfied glare from the dark woman, but she didn’t notice. “I haven’t requested any…” Lucania had ducked into the closet, taking the opportunity to change out of the towels into a more proper outfit. The [url=http://i.imgur.com/RgJw5Il.jpg?1]Blue Velvet dress[/url] she had thrown on contrasted the mature red gown Evelina had chosen, it was one of the few dresses Lucania owned that didn’t reach to the ground, it spoke of a certain youth in it’s design with a color that carried with it sophistication. Lucania peeked out of the closet the same second Evelina finished her statement with ‘Miss Castalia.’ [i]A development![/i] “[i]Yeeeessss?[/i]” Lucania sang, practically floating across the room. Her grin could only be described as ‘coquettish’, her eyes were focused completely on Evelina, perhaps reading her face for emotion, and she moved with the gaiety of a ballerina. She came to a stop with a slight bounce at Evelina’s side by the door. She gushed at the smell of the meal, her eyes flicked from Evelina to the very… [i]purple[/i]… woman, undeniably attractive, with which she was conversing, “And whom does Miss Castalia have to thank for such a generous delivery?” “Princess,” Octavia said sweetly, curtseying as best she could still with the tray on her hands. “The meal was sent by the chef himself as soon as he heard of your presence. There was no ordering necessary, and it is on the house.” Evelina took the tray from Octavia and carried it inside and onto a table, returning shortly thereafter, a time during which Octavia had said nothing. “How come you’re here, Tavi?” Evelina asked when she returned. “I work for the Castalia Family in this establishment. Bar maid, waitress, dancing, and the occasional singing… I’m still practicing on that. I’m not that good yet.” She looked exasperated for all but a single second. “What about you? I didn’t expect your to be in the same room with the Heiress?” [i]Heiress?[/i] Emerald eyes flicked to Lucania, searching. She was met with a coquettish expression and a pair of golden eyes looking back at her. [i]She’s the Bloody Sleeves? ...Can’t say I expected that.[/i] “Anyway, it’s good to see you again. I need to go. Oh, and Princess?” Her purple gaze shot to the blue-dressed woman, an impish smile on her face. “Take good care of Tits McGee here, she’s a nice girl. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She curtseyed again and backed out the door, closing it after her. “I still hate that nickname…” “Hmmm…” Lucania leaned against Evelina’s shoulder from where they stood in the doorway, further increasing their height difference, “neither do I, if we’re being completely transparent.” A hand traced its way up Evelina’s back, rubbing red fabric, getting tangled in wild red hair, “How about this; I can promise I won’t use yours if you don’t use mine?” She tilted her head upwards, looking simultaneously cutesy and pleading into Evelina’s eyes. Evelina chuckled, well aware of the hand on her back and in her hair.She didn’t mind the proximity, but despite the pleasantness of it all she couldn’t push away the doubt nagging at her: Was it really okay? Lucania had expressed clear concerns about going too fast, for reasons as of yet unknown to Evelina. The pleading, and just plain adorable, expression on Lucania’s youthful face elicited a giggle from the taller woman, who then wrapped her arm around her waist. “Speaking of nicknames,” she said, leading them into where she had set the tray of food. “I know you’re the Bloody Sleeves.” She looked down at Lucania. “I’m not going to say anything about it, lecture you, or make demands. I just want you to know that I’m aware of it, so you don’t have to hide it.” Letting go of Lucania, she started pouring a couple glasses of juice for them, handing one of them to the other. “And don’t worry, I don’t think any less of you for it.” She smiled sweetly at that, as if saying that it didn’t change what she thought of her. “Really?” Lucania tilted her head as she followed Evelina’s lead, she didn’t make any attempt to hide the skepticism in her voice, “The altruistic wayward healer has [i]no[/i] moral qualms with practically being tricked into the bedroom of bloodiest mafia enforcer in the history of Dust? It’s quite alright, if we’re to continue our correspondence then I’d like to get everything in the open now, I don’t want you to have any regrets...” “Dio…” Lucania crossed her legs when she took her seat, a mild look of disgust crossed her face as she swirled the juice around in the ornate glass, “He knows I prefer my Italian roast… Perhaps I’ll take an eye for this absolutely horrid indiscretion…?” After letting the comment hang in the air, she cast an amused glance at Eveline, “Joking!” “Bad joke,” Evelina said, an amused sort of exasperation in her voice. “But if I am to be honest? Let’s just say that… Looks can be deceiving.” She let that hand in the air for a while, sipping at her own juice. It had been far too long since she’d actually had any. Her twentythird birthday, was it? [i]That’s a long time ago.[/i] Forcing her mind away from the topic of juice, she returned to the more important one: Whether or not she actually did have qualms about Lucania being the Bloody Sleeves. If she just looked at her, with the morning sun peeking in through the windows and surrounding her head in a halo of light, all she saw was a beautiful young woman who had seen both sides of life: The good and the bad. When first she’d met her she was close to breaking, and at a point where she desperately needed help before she did something she truly would regret. That that help had only needed to be someone who would listen was just a happy coincidence. Evelina had, for better or worse, just seen someone who needed a friend to talk to, and had found in her a new friend—and perhaps more. If one didn’t know of her alias, or what her name was, she was simply a kind soul who had been wounded, and had taken that hurt out on others. But now that it was over, now that the debt had been paid… She sighed, setting the glass back onto the table and folding her hands in her lap. “I can’t pretend that I’m not a little… uncertain. I wasn’t tricked into this room, mind you. While I was under the influence I have a bit higher tolerance than you, and had had less, so I was still in full control of myself. I had begun to like you so I didn’t mind sharing a room with you for the night. That you’re the ‘bloodiest mafia enforcer in Dust’ isn’t true. At least, that’s not all you are, is what I mean. You’re also, as I said earlier today, both kind and intelligent. You’re no simple grunt who obeys the commands blindly without ever making decisions of your own.” She leaned back in her chair, feline eyes giving Lucania a hard look, as if daring her to disagree. “I’ve only known you for a short while, but I refuse to believe that you’re just a common murderer. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t agree with taking lives, but it’s not something you’ve done simply for the sake of doing it.” “Father would certainly prefer if I did,” Lucania scoffed, raising the glass to her lips, she opted to try the juice before continuing—[i]certainly fresh[/i]—she set down the glass. With its clink on the table, Lucania was forced to process Evelina’s comments, the observations, and the, in her own opinion, astute compliments. “I…” Lucania’s voice cracked, she lost her voice in the prodding and slightly hypnotic gaze across from her, “I appreciate it.” Her own gaze became downcast. She was ashamed, of what, though? The word ‘grunt’ continued to ring in her ear. “Your words are very kind, and I do appreciate them. I recognize that there is even some truth in them,” pained azure flickered into her irises, “that doesn’t mean the contrary is untrue, however.” A sigh followed, “I’m [i]not[/i] some simple grunt or a common murderer,” bringing her eyes back to Evelina’s, she managed to summon a small, defeated smile, “I’m my [i]father’s[/i] grunt, my [i]family’s[/i] murderer… I apologize if this sounds pseudo-intellectual, but at least a common killer has [i]agency[/i], I’m nothing more than a puppet aware of it’s strings.” A grimace swept across Evelina’s face, staying there for far longer than she liked. This wasn’t what she had wanted to hear, at all. [i]Turns out I can’t fix everything just because I’m a healer.[/i] She shut her eyes, hiding the piercing gaze from the world, her hand rising to rub her temple. She sat like that for several minutes, silent, and with eyes closed the entire time. When she opened them again they were both defeated, but also determined. The look in her eyes spoke of a sheer stubbornness that was unknown even to herself. “I am… powerless to do anything, for once,” she said. “My hands are tied and, as much as I would like the opposite, I can’t change it.” She sighed, her gaze fixated on Lucania’s now; a look that demanded her full attention. “But, you can still do something. I’m not able to do anything to change your position, but nor can you change yours. I want you to promise me two things. One: The victims are not innocent. I doubt that anyone who really gets in the way of the Mafia are innocent, but I want to be certain nonetheless. Two: Whoever they are, it’s as quick and painless as possible. I can’t stop them dying, but perhaps their death can be as painless as possible.” She let out another sign, which preceded a snarling face of anger; lips pulled back to reveal her fangs. “I [i]hate[/i] murder!” She exclaimed loudly, turning her head towards the windows. She was silent for a while, saying nothing. In the end, however, she was the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you, but the circumstances. You didn’t ask to be who you were, so I can’t blame you for what you’ve been forced to do. Just… Please don’t think I’m angry with you.” Lucania remained calm through the response, even Evelina’s outburst, and found that as she finished, she wasn’t feeling the sadness she had felt earlier. Instead she felt sympathy, perhaps even a little anger at the situation she found herself needing to sneak around in to influence even slightly. “[i]‘Go out of your way to make a friend instead of an enemy.’[/i]” Lucania quoted to Evelina, contemplation spread across her face, “Do you know who once said that?” “Can’t say I do. Who?” “Murray Humphreys.” Lucania said, reaching to pile the assorted pastries on her plate, “He wasn’t some Old World saint, if you can believe that. He and I actually share a profession! He’s perhaps my favorite figure in organized crime from the twentieth century,” Lucania cast something of a sidelong glance, “I know that isn’t exactly the [i]biggest[/i] honor to hold… But none-the-less! How he operated inspires me.” “I won’t say that I [i]hate[/i] murder, Evelina. I just spent the last 10 years of my life hunting for an Immortal raping degenerate, I will never regret it, he gave up his humanity and I put him down. Some will call that murder, and that’s fair. The point is, I don’t see it as something so simple to despise…” She took a bite of an apple, “However…” Evelina held up a hand to stall Lucania for a moment, saying. “In the case of this Adam, I have to agree with you. That is one death I don’t hate.” She waved her hand, motioning for her to continue. Lucania swallowed, “I’m pleased you agree…” She let the comment hang for a moment before continuing, “You should know that I orchestrated it all in secret. That my family didn’t approve the risk involved. My father least of all…” Lucania sighed, “I hope, dearly, that history will remember me as someone like Humphreys, as someone whose strength was through shrewd thinking and diplomacy as opposed to… Machiavellian fear. But my family is full of hedonists who don’t see the value in that road, they approve pointless death so long as they can feast on steak for dinner and whores for dessert…” Lucania leaned on an arm, her gaze went to the sunny window. Her voice took on a jovial and masculine Italian tone, “‘Why pay off someone when you can just kill them, princess?’” Lucania turned away from Evelina hard, hiding the scowl across her lips, “[i]Legacy,[/i] father!” Lucania closed her eyes in frustration. “I apologize for that…” Lucania was still visibly shaking, resentment was unmistakably present in her eyes, “Rest assured, Evelina, [i]I[/i] am not a supporter of the Castalia attitudes toward murder.” A faint smile pulled at Evelina’s lips, a mixture of sadness and joy. “I’m glad to hear that. Really. It makes… a lot of things a lot easier. It gives me hope that, when you take the lead, you’ll employ more humane methods. I do not condone crime, but from what I know of the Castalia family it’s more of a business than a crime, so I guess I can let it slide.” Despite the severity of the situation, she couldn’t help but add in a little joke there in the end, a tiny bit of mirth twinkling in her eyes as she said it. [i]Truth be told I’d rather she wasn’t involved at all, but her staying with the family is the best chance it has for becoming something better than a simple crime organization. I trust that she’ll be able to lead it onto a better track.[/i] She reached out and grabbed an apple from the tray, using her fangs to rip out a large chunk of it. “Nine-tenths legal for over 50 years!” Lucania declared, a sarcastic smile matching her tone. Her attention turned to eating for a moment, when, out of her subconscious, a question occurred to her. Lucania cleared her throat, “Soo… [i]Why[/i] a travelling doctor?” A delicate eyebrow rose at the question, followed by an expression of surprise. “Hadn’t expected that question.” She tore another chunk off the apple, chewed and swallowed. “An easy question to answer, really. It all started in my early to mid teens or so, when my mom and dad started talking about what I should be when I grew up. My mom suggested I be a cook like her, but despite being only a bit above average it wasn’t really possible. That, and I wasn’t all that enthusiastic about it. Cooking was fun and all, but I didn’t want to do it for a living.” “My dad, however, was a Wing—and don’t say he’s like the others. He kept another Wing from shooting me after I became an Immortal. He’s the only reason I’m alive, and he doesn’t fear nor think any less of any Immortals.” Her normally gentle eyes turned hard for only a second, a warning look, telling her not to say anything untowards or judgemental about her father. It then disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. “He gave me my gun, ammo, the bike, and my sword.” She motioned towards the bedroom door where her bag could only just be spotted, the holster for her gun and the scabbard with her sword as well. ”He was the one who made sure I had enough to survive on my own before he let me go. He knew I wouldn’t be allowed back into the city. But that’s beside the point. I admired the way he protected people and kept order. I don’t think he ever took a life, only ever immobilizing with a shot to the leg or something similar.” An expression best described as nostalgic swept onto her face. “He protected people, and I wanted to do the same. But… I’m not exactly big, and not strong enough to become a Wing myself. So I thought to myself, why not help the people who had already gotten hurt when I couldn’t stop them from getting hurt?” “So I buried myself in books. Everything from how to set a bone or perform CPR, to advanced surgeries. I learned everything I could on my own until I reached an age where I could get a formal education. It took some four years, would’ve probably taken more if I hadn’t read all those books beforehand, and then I just… worked. I remember one time a young boy and girl had come in with a broken hand and shin respectively.” She chuckled. “Their cheeks were redder than my hair when I asked them to tell me what happened. Turns out a new ‘position’ wasn’t the best idea after all.” Another sigh, this one nostalgic. “But then I became an Immortal, two years after I finished my education. That’s two years ago, by the way. As I mentioned, he gave me the bike, my gun, and some supplies, and like that I just… drove away. I’ve sent them letters every one or two weeks ever since then, so they know I’m fine.” She fell silent, the last bit hanging in the air as she debated with herself if she should—[i]Sure. Why the heck not.[/i] “There is also another reason. I want… the world to see that we Immortals aren’t all to be feared. It’s true that we have the power to bend the world to our will, but even then we are still humans and not someone to be feared. The only thing that’s changed about me since then is that I look different.” “Is that truly fair to say, though?” Lucania shot back, “I’m confident that you’ll remain this optimistic about the Immortal condition, but how does the average Motum Diversum citizen? You have a professional knowledge of human anatomy, theoretically you can give yourself a practical immunity to bullets with those walls you can create, and you can teleport behind someone faster than they can see. Sure, today you want to be a doctor, but what if tomorrow you decide you’ve really wanted to be an assassin your whole life?” Lucania leaned back, “I think you have a good heart, Evelina. You’ve demonstrated that to me. Immortal or not, you are very clearly a good person...” Lucania sighed, “But that isn’t something everyone can reasonably assume… Not today, not ever in history, really. See, I don’t think it’s the [i]power[/i] that they fear. People have been dealing with both [i]things[/i] and [i]other people[/i] more powerful than them for millennia. People have a tendency to [i]respect[/i] power, and the Edenites show us they’ll even go so far as to [i]worship[/i] it.” Lucania laughed to herself, “While you were reading all those practical medical books I was wasting my time on Old World journals and historical tomes…” She leaned back in, continuing with her point, “People don’t fear you because of those adorable eyes of yours, they fear what the eyes represent. They fear you because you [i]are[/i] different, if only slightly, you represent an unknown. Now, Immortals aren’t a united front--” [i]Thank Dio[/i] “So each individual isn’t part of some larger group with power. People become scared when they see that you have the eyes and the fangs, and they don’t know what else changed. You’re an unpredictable individual, with fantastical powers unknown, part of a disparate group of people whom are all easy to stereotype.” Lucania shrugged, “Aaaand historically, people tend to [i]really[/i] like having groups to discriminate against...” Their eyes met, “I’m not being cynical. I think Dust needs people like you if attitudes are ever going to change… But you have to understand, people don’t avoid your medical services and call you mutie because they think you have power, they do it because they fear you, they do it because, to them, you aren’t a person. There is an encouraged view to see Immortals as this unchained dog that needs to be put in its place.” Lucania’s smile widened as she gave the perfect ‘barking’ sound. The words stung. Like a wasp’s sting or, better yet, a sword through her gut, they pierced through her doing damage wherever they could. Her head hung low, casting her face in a shadow. Her teeth gritted and her hands clenched so hard that her nails dug painfully into her palms, almost piercing the skin. [i]It never ends, does it?[/i] [i]Different.[/i] [i]Discriminate.[/i] [i]Thing.[/i] Who had she been trying to fool? ‘The universe repeats itself.’ That is what they all say, so why should she be any different? She was bound to be ostracized, it was her lot in life after all, was it not? [i]What made me think that this was any different?[/i] She raised one hand up to her chest, forcing herself to make the movement seem composed. She placed the hand against her chest, the difference in size between hand and breast becoming immediately evident. “Why did I ever try to fool myself,” she said, her voice being that of someone who had just given up. Hot tears started leaking from her eyes. “It’s always the same, isn’t it? Always discriminated, always different, always looked upon as something to be mocked, hunted, or beaten.” She lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “Is a normal life really too much to hope for?” “No, I don’t suppose it is,” resting her elbows on the table, Lucania locked her fingers, creating something of an organic mask to hide any expressions her mouth might betray. All she allowed Evelina to see were her eyes, their critical gaze was almost appraising, as if she were in the middle of some negotiation. Lucania spoke slowly, “But I don’t believe for a second that you want what’s normal, Evelina.” Lucania clasped her hands together, “You only half answered my question before; Why are you a wandering doctor?” She let the saddened woman process what she meant before continuing, “You told me why you were a [i]doctor[/i], but you didn’t tell me why you wander. Not entirely, at least.” Lucania preempted a counter-statement, “You could have led a peaceful existence in Isolone as a nurse, you could have had the teeth removed, or relocated to Serenity…” Lucania’s words were calculated, she wasn’t just talking to Evelina anymore, her next words were a test, “Where are you from? We hold influence with the Gaens, Aqueons, and every Motum Diversum city. All it would take is calling in one favor, [i]one[/i], and you could have a quiet, peaceful, [i]normal[/i] life, but only if that’s what you really want. Is it?” Anger, a sort of betrayal, rose in Evelina. Who was she, this spoiled child who had been given almost everything she asked for, to judge her? To make such assumptions as to say she didn’t actually want a normal life? Of course she did, who wouldn’t? A life of solitude, of ostracization, wasn’t something anyone wanted. She opened her mouth to reply, to say that a normal life was all she had ever really dreamt of but stopped herself. [i]Was it? Is it?[/i] As Lucania had said she should have had her teeth removed, but even then that wouldn’t have done anything about her eyes. Isolone, too, was just a random city without anything to it, at least not as far as she knew. It was, to her knowledge, as discriminating towards Immortals as every other place. She looked up, meeting that calculating, judging gaze of Lucania’s. “Did I want a normal life when I was all but kicked out of my home? Yes. Do I want a normal life now? The answer to that question is also yes. I am a woman who was bullied and mocked for the majority of my teen years, all because my breasts grew a little too quickly, a little too big. For the past two years now I’ve been a drifter, a person who wanders Dust because I have no other place to go, and because I want to show people that just because I’m different it doesn’t mean that I’m something to be afraid of, or to be ridiculed.” She wiped the tears from her eyes, the green orbs becoming steely. “There is, however, one question you didn’t ask. Do I want to give up my current life? The answer to [i]that[/i] is no. I have spent too much time, too much effort, and fought far too much to get through all the shit the world put me through, and I’m not about to let all of that effort go to waste. I do want a normal life, but it’s not something I can get. So why do I drift? Because that is what my life is.” She sighed. “Although… perhaps you’re right. I don’t want a normal life, I just want a life where I’m not feared. If I’m thought of as a person instead of a monster or a target, then that’s all I really want.” “I apologize if I’ve come off as… cruel,” concern became intertwined as Lucania said the words, she wanted to reach out and brush away the tears, instead, she restrained herself, “There is a reason I prodded you to say that, that you didn’t want a normal life, Evelina.” Lucania sighed. The breakfast was getting cold, it was hardly a major concern, but the thought crossed Lucania’s mind nonetheless, “You said it yourself before, really, that you want something [i]better[/i] than normal. That you don’t just want a life free of fear for yourself, you want that for [i]all[/i] Immortals. You want that for the [i]world[/i], and you’ve worked for it! I have no doubt you’ve changed the minds of a few bigots with your kind demeanor and dedication to non-violence…” [i]History repeats itself…[/i] “...indeed it does…” Lucania muttered to herself, she tapped the table with a finger, eyes lost in thought, clearly sculpting an idea, “Sorry. I just mean to say, that, I’m not trying to discourage you Evelina… Quite the contrary, actually!” Lucania tilted her head slightly, a delicate smile forming as she spoke, “You’ve traveled and seen harsh realities, but you [i]still[/i] want to fight to make things better, much better than whatever ‘normal’ may be.” Lucania’s demeanor was calm, she let the silence hang after the statement, instead devoting a few second to gauge Evelina’s mood. Lucania took the gamble. “Evelina, have you ever considered running for public office?”