Santino, outside. The cold never got to him, not really, despite his Mediterranean upbring. At times there was something dehumanizing about that tollerance.

At others, barely a thought was sacrificed on it.

Thoughts follow actions, though taking a nighttime walk is hardly action-packed.

But thoughtful.

Perhaps it's just inviting trouble, standing outside in the dark of Milliways.

Santino very well could be the trouble. The cold never bothered him overly, nor the heat, so he needn't fear a nightly stroll.

After all, everyone needs time to think.

Santino had always had a penchant for travelling, for the world. As much as he was anchored to Rome, the rest of the world was a yearning curiosity to him ( Read more... )

The door opened with a push of the Mind Gift, well before it had come within Santino's physical reach.

"Come in, please."

Glutted on blood, full to bursting. Skin those few shades darker for the sun's efforts. Tired, so tired, got to wipe it all away cleanse the filth with bloodThe first he found was killed with fists, and not by Santino's hunger. Furious, dark Santino, bore down his malice upon one scapegoat, when no-one could see or hear (flirt them away from ( Read more... )

Santino, his room ( Read more... )

Kyrie aleison, Kyrie aleison, Kyrie aleison
They're a family, he thinks. He's not... Certain... A family, yes. There is a great number of them, more than eight, and they're about each other in a small cluster. Their heights vary, as do their genders. A family.

They're blurred, out of focus, can't find who they are. They're waiting. Aren't they? ( Read more... )

Santino, holding Sugar's hand in his own, led her upstairs and down the rampant hallway, until they stopped outside the room he purchased months earlier. He hadn't touched it since ( Read more... )

The other throws himself forwards, swinging a fist that shatters the table thrown at him. He advances, crushing splintered wood beneath his feet, and swings another blow forwards, but only succeeds in hitting empty air. Shards of wood stick out of his fingers and knuckles, blood is dripping down his thin fingers. He would have been beautiful, once ( Read more... )

Santino walked easily with Mary Anne beside him, following the corridoors of upstairs Milliways to the room numbered upon the key ( Read more... )