Introduzione

Caterina crumbled the greenish purple bud between her thumb and forefinger, packing the herb into a millefiori glass pipe. She lights her bowl with a smolder stick and inhaled the sweet, spicy and skunky smoke. She held the smoke in her lungs, feeling them burn from lack of oxygen after about twenty heart beats give or take. She exhales a stream of smoke that ended in a coughing fit as the smoke billowed to a haze around her and her small rental. Caterina wiped at her watery eyes and shook out her hands, her cannabis high helping to prepare her for the project before her. She pulled a piece of tanned leather out of it's soaking dish and placed the wet leather over a wooden face form. Caterina took another hit off her pipe as she waited for the leather to begin to dry. While malleable, it was still too wet to hold any shape for long without the aid of clamps or vice. She ran her fingers over the the wet dead flesh, feeling its grain and seeking out imperfections or brands. She lost track of time as she tugged and molded the hide, changing into it's new form. The candles burned and dripped, leaving the air around them touched with scent of beeswax. She sighed and wiped the back of her hand across her brow. The newest mask finally lay before her. The wet leather having dried to a light tan, and now hardened into shape. She held the mask in her hands before lifting it to her face, testing the fit. The rough texture brushed across her cheeks and reminded her that she wore the dead flesh of another. Caterina removed the mask and placed it upon a shelf were other masks sat waiting to be painted. She found painting to be the slightly easier than working the leather, but she knew she didn't have time to prep her paints tonight. She turned to her millefiori pipe once more and smoked until she found the idea of stepping out into the night enjoyable, rather than a stressful, and quite possibly a dangerous affair. Intoxication aside, the drugs added an extra flavor, or effect to the blood coursing through her veins. She tugged on her well worn jacket, noticing that the cuffs and elbows were starting to look threadbare. She slipped on a heavy metal bracelet over her right hand, examining the metal and wondered if it take a polish. The bracelet marked her, despite her habits, (others may call addictions) as healthy stock in good standing for the Court. She took a strange bit of pride in such a bauble, but she was Borghesia and like to think that it added to her station. It was well past time for her to check into the Green Dragon and sign the ledger. Donning a mask for the evening, she set out to the streets of Venexia, at the service to the Court.