| Born to a Mother by the name of Aishe and a Father Emilian, young Luca, was destined for the dark path. Originally, of a Romani tribe which passed through many lands of Europe. The camp travelled through cities and villages performing for the onlookers and setting up shows where they would be able to make their next meal in wages. Gifted as the performers were within the show, the money they were peddling and getting from such crowds was diminishing in their cost to continue travelling. Emilian and Aishe decided that a darker path was to be the only way that they would be able to continue. Nobody ever would imagine that the lovely Gypsie woman holding that child in a neck wrap, was actually stealing from them, skillfully lifting purses and pockets. The embodiment of innocence and purity, while her husband ushered in the crowds marking them by the volumes of their pockets. Some towns welcomed them, and others led them to the gates, but whenever there was a chance they were always able to obtain more than enough resources.
But what happens when someone with the same abilities is the person being stolen from? Local Government is not kind to those that treat their patrons in such a manner; but there was no need for the Law that night. Deep in the recesses of the Gypsie camp, someone stalked and moved around the tents, while the people lay in their slumber. It was as if there was a shadow moving, weaving in and out of the makeshift housing. Until, the vision of both Luca's parents were before it.
In the morning, the shrieking woman and the crying of Luca, were heard throughout the camp. There lay Aishe and Emilian, both with their throats slit open hand in hand on a bed, looking into eachothers dead eyes, as their faces were the last the lover's saw, the only grace given to them by the Killer. And between them in the thick of their blood, was Luca, and a dagger which seemed to be the most significant thing there with it's blade coated in the dried blood of his parents.
Now matured into the young man that was always to have been pictured in his Mother's eyes, or perhaps not. Luca knew only what was told to him of his parents. How they loved eachother, and how they managed an entire caravan. A street rat-turned into a modern day Shadow. The development of his abilities meant he learned early that his skills were honed for those that needed someone, quick, fast, alert, and ready. When someone needed to obtain something through ill-gotten means, Luca was the person they called. He had a potential - a "Je ne sais quoi" that some were unable to pin-point. Known amongst the encampment as 'Drift', he was the person who could manipulate anyone and anything that he possibly could get a coin for. His abilities had manifested but he'd never been able to manipulate them quite as skillfully as he'd like. He told none of the encampment of his, 'Talents' for fear that they might label him some sort of Stregonerio. However, he was able to continually practice and make hone his skills through the shows that they had continued to put on.
Each night, he would Dance, he would maneuver to the beat of the music, laughing in jovial tone as his thoughts leaned more and more towards the dagger that was secured on his side. A perfectly placed veneer for the anger that was growing within him. Continually, thinking about the mark of the Shadow upon him and wondering why his parents were so brutally executed.
This is where the Light meets the Dark.
Luca, decided that once the camp travelled to the United States that he would work for himself. His, eagerness and willingness to show how talented he was gifted him several jobs that he was able to complete, albeit, not without a challenge. A few dead bodies, a Shadow whispering in the wind, and a man whom had no identity, Authorities are aware of someone behind the killings, they just don't know who. As he began developing a taste for the money that come with the territory of serving those of the Underworld his Darkness seems to be grabing hold of him.
He is someone who will most likely swindle you out of a bet you thought you were going to win, even with the largest odds against him, and if you try and catch him, he's gone before you look up. This is his begining, his story only begins now. The taste, and want of the darkness seems to wrap onto his body feeding his every fiber and immediately sustaining all need, and yet, deep in that dark core, there is a waning of light, a diminishing factor. Drift is here to do two things:
Find out whom the Dagger belongs to and kill him.
Carve a name for himself in his new home.
|
