Lucy Serrano

[Lucy Serrano]

Lucy Ellis Serrano
FACE CLAIM: Lights Poxleitner
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AGE: Twenty-Six
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Unsure
GROUP: The Furrina
POSITION: Fence - the Queen of buying and selling your stolen goods.

WE ALL HAVE A STORY...
what's yours?

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD
IF I DIE, I'M A LEGEND

These people are assholes. They'll cut the living shit outta you for looking at them. Fuck, they'll do it if you don't. You're right on the bloody knife's edge with the lot of them, and there's not a lot you can do when it's at your neck, is there? Cause there's not a lot of sense to it. Go guts first, and shit like that. Well right, they do.

But not a lot of them know how to talk. Cause pride'll shoot up your veins and rock you senseless, so the idea of talking to people doesn't click. Even if you're lying - and fuck, I'm almost always lying - you're still taking a shot to the ego by doing it. The one thing I've learned from all this shit is there're more than the usual ways to get what you want. It sounds so stupid when you try to talk it out, but I've always been one of the best at just talking.

Negotiating without proper bloody compromise. The last thing people expect is a Furrina with a fucking flawless brain. It's all about the game and how you figure you can play it. You gotta make yourself fit in a place where there's no space for you cause there's no one like you.

I CAN'T STAY HERE NO MORE
AND I CAN'T SLEEP ON THE FLOOR

There's a big set of rules, right. Because societies fall to shit and then there's a shit load more rules to follow. Self appointed hierarchies decide - and they're a bit right, too - that there needs to be a system in place for some kind of order. Don't get me wrong, the world needs it, it's just... When things are shot to shit, who gets to decide who takes up those spots? It's the kind of cycling process that gets bigger the longer you let your mind dwell on it. And then you realise there's a big group of people who're wondering the same thing. Now, that's just basic common sense, isn't it? Where there's law, there's the lawless.

When you think about it, these were choices made before we were even thought of. Shit happens and people get stuck in Mexico when they belong on another continent entirely. Planes are out so the old home in the land of Australia stops mattering. They have a kid; that kid has a kid, and it keeps going until you're twenty-six and you're breaking the bank because the last thing on your mind is bringing a kid up when things are still so fucked.

Water's fine. Food's pretty easy to come by. All the lawful jobs are taken, and the second last thing you want to do is live in a farming village for the rest of your life. So you leave. Too young to step out alone by their standards - and they're probably right at eighteen - but me and rules never got on anyway. Life makes way more sense in the city.

Get in a fight. In a bar in Axios years ago with someone who actually says; people like you are the problem. People like me? People who can't just live with the way things are now. There're only two good ways to go about it. Say your piece and talk them out of the need for a bit of a brawl, then clock the ever loving fuck out of them with the bottle you've been nursing for the last twenty minutes.

Catch someone's eye. Get mixed up in the wrong - or right - crowd.

Shorthand; that's just how it went.

YOU'RE FUCKING WITH THE BEST
I'M TOO ADVANCED

Mentality, right? Here're a few things to keep in your head.

Guns are messy. There's so much better shit you can do if you're just a little bit more clever with the way you go about how you move. You don't wanna come at any kinda thing guns totally blazing. Get decent enough with something small and sharp and you're way more set for the world we're stuck in. Even better; the greater you are at hiding that skill, the more it's gonna work in your favour when you really need to use it.

Killing people- Fuck, it's like, well it's not something you can get cut up about, y'know? It's easy to get your head around if you're open enough to it. At the end of the day, the world's fucked. No matter how many people walk around and try to live like it's better, it'll never be better. It could just be a little hidden to most, but this is definitely a bloody kill or be killed society. I got not interest in dying.

Be smart about how you're look. Don't look like someone can run you down without much effort. Short hair's a hellova lot smarter but if you're stubborn like me, at least tie that shit up when you know you're gonna get into trouble.

Trouble pretty much happens every time you step out the door.

You got something to sell? Something you gotta get rid of? You come find me. You take something you stole to somewhere local and you can find yourself tacked to a sentence you didn't even know you'd get totally stung for. Trust me, that shit's not worth it.

THEN I CAME RIGHT BACK
ON MY WORST BEHAVIOUR

I think one of the most important things is finding something that makes you feel like you're really living. When I was growing up on that dead end farm in absolute piss no where, I remember wondering how people did it for the rest of their lives. Where's the bloody joy in doing the same shit day in day out for years when the rest of the world's fulla people who get to live it up? There's only so much pride you can get in the work you're doing before you realise you're sure as fuck not doing it for you.

I care. I do, really. The people who do it should be higher on the chain than they are. That's some selfless shit, and well fuck, I guess I'm just selfish.

And y'know what? That's not a bad thing. First time I ever broke into a place was the greatest experience of my entire bloody life, mate. That was a good ten years ago, and it's still the same kinda drug. It's addictive. Get good at it, and people take notice. Get better at it, and no one notices. That's the point. Once I got there, it was still always about getting better. And y'know, money.

The high, the point, the pay.

THE THINGS I CAN'T CHANGE
ARE THE REASONS YOU LOVE ME

There's a library just up the west end of town. Not a lot of people bother going through it cause they know it's all books, and that shit's just dead weight that ain't worth shit. But, y'know, you gotta be a forward thinker. Gotta assume the last person who went in didn't look hard enough. Libraries aren't all books.

Doors aren't me. Windows? Definitely me. They're easier. They're less conspicuous. Being five foot four means it's easy to drop through. And honestly, half the time nowadays, doors don't cause they're either rusted or rubbled shut.

Anyway, it's night. It's quiet. Everything about that place was just way too calm. Comfortable. I mean shit, it's not the first place I've ever broken into, so I know what that means. Telltale signs are everywhere; someone lives in this place. Now, that's not a problem. It's never a problem; hell, that's just something you get used to. And it's something you gotta be pretty ballsy about.

And when you get caught - which like, barely happens, believe me - there're a few ways you can go about it. Furrina'll cut you to pieces and leave it as is, cause they can.

I didn't. Alright? But I definitely went back the next night.

It's a bit funny, I guess, how shit comes together. but yeah, I don't really wanna spend much time talking about the chick I'm sorta...Well, not like with or- But... Whatever.

I AIN'T LOOKING BACK NO MORE
NO, NO MORE

So let's get something cleared up right off the bat, too, yeah? I got a heap of tattoos. You can ask about a lot of them but for the most part, you're not getting much. It's not cause they're all personal or some shit like that, it's just cause I don't give a fuck about you.

But the one that's the best by far is the lion on my forearm. I mean shit, have you seen it? It's bloody beautiful. Everyone's got reasons for the shit they wear on their skin; this one's got a lot to do with family. He had the same one on his arm, so. Yeah.

Not much left of them now.

Cause; I heard there was an outbreak in the town a few years ago? I stopped going back as much, then. Probably got looted. But the house's inhabited by someone new.

Anyway, as far as sentimentality goes, a tattoo's as good as I'm willing to get.

BEHIND THE MASK...
who are you really?

SAMPLE: Lucy should have expected some kind of argument. She knew everything she'd offered up until her new found point of silence would eventually be taken in, analysed, and processed. It was just the way she was, and the subject just so happened to fall in the ink manipulator's favour over her own. She had the go ahead. The first step forward, and as it stood, she managed those that followed in the same way. Filling each moment with something new wasn't strange for Lucy, especially when the subject became so narrowed on something she had done in the first place.

Perhaps part of her had wanted to explain herself already, and only now she had the chance. Here. And just when they were planning to leave.

She should have known something would come from the potentials self-depreciative way she spoke of herself. Truly, it hadn't been the point. But it was true to her form to catch what Lucy had missed.

"I never said I counted for nothing." Lucy replied, knowing all too well how she carried the potential point to its farthest placement. "Everything I'm saying has everything to do with you. None of it made sense before you. Not sexuality, or sex, or relationships or even the very idea that a person could love another person so hard. You're a catalyst." And her hand stopped making delicate tracks, frozen in motion. Despite the heat that rose in her voice to a differed level of passion and potent understanding, she didn't raise her tone. "Because you're you."

On a short, sharp breath, the corner of her mouth dragged upwards to the threat of a smile. As far as disbelief went, this was practically mind blowing.

"So no, you weren't the first for me. But you'll be the last."

USERNAME: Eddie

AGE GROUP: Twenty-Four

EXPERIENCE: Well over a tenner

WHERE DID YOU FIND US? The usual, bae

[Mel *]

ACCEPTED!
You know the drill, bae.