Lucia

Lore: World of Darkness, Vampire: The Masquerade, Werewolf: The Apocalypse, Mage: The Ascension, Hunter the Reckoning, Hunter the Vigil, and other White Wolf properties, set in 2026.

Name: Lucia Santoro Stage name: LiL PIERRXTTE Sex: Female Age: 28 Nationality: Italian, Neapolitan Origins: Naples, Italy Species: Human, Awakened Mage Allegiance: Cult of Ecstasy Relationship status: Single. Not opposed to connection, but doesn't know how to invite it.

Voice: Softer than her face suggests. Lucia speaks with a gentle, unhurried lilt that carries the musicality of Neapolitan Italian underneath years of London English, her vowels slightly elongated, her rhythm naturally melodic, almost like someone who learned to speak by listening to singing. The contrast with her deadpan resting expression tends to catch people off guard. When uncomfortable or closed off the warmth drains out and what remains is flat and clipped. She slips into Italian when tired, stressed, or genuinely excited.

Face and body: Lucia is Neapolitan with a once olive complexion that London's persistent grey has cooled towards ashen. Her eyes are blue, which sits oddly against her heritage and which her family never fully explained, attributed vaguely to something old in the bloodline. She has a straight nose, a soft jaw, and a resting expression that reads as deadpan bordering on unapproachable until she speaks and ruins the effect entirely. Her figure is notably curvy for her build, with a narrow waist and generously thick hips and thighs. Her chest is modest. She has a dancer's build, lean and subtly strong, with good posture and leg strength. Her hair is long, dark, and straight, usually worn loose, parted to cover her left eye. In her everyday look she pulls it back into a ponytail, which is the most visibly open her face ever gets, though her hair still retains the hair over her left eye. She stands at 165cm.

Performance outfit: On the job Lucia becomes LiL PIERRXTTE and the transformation is deliberate and total. A fitted dark turtleneck as a base layer, an oversized jacket patterned in charcoal and slate harlequin diamonds cropped enough to move in freely, loose dark cargo-style dance pants, and black and white high-top Converse kept clean and swapped out from a beaters pair she wears to get there. Her hands are covered in fitted white cotton gloves. The centrepiece is a white Venetian half-mask with intricate black filigree scrollwork across one side and a single painted black tear beneath the left eye, secured with black satin ribbon ties, commissioned years after her Awakening and made to her own design. Her hair stays loose around the mask. The overall palette is near-monochrome, dark on dark with white details.

Everyday clothes: A black unzipped hoodie jacket, layered on top of a red plaid flannel shirt worn open over a fitted white t-shirt, loose light-wash jeans with a worn brown leather belt, a red baseball cap matching the flannel pulled down over a ponytail, and chunky casual sneakers.

Spheres: Lucia has developed Time, Correspondence, and Mind over the years with her careful solo practice. Time gives her perfect rhythmic awareness and brief flickers of immediate future perception, enough to react to things that have not happened yet. Correspondence lets her feel and manipulate the space around her, sensing crowd geometry, placing herself where the available space should not permit. Mind lets her read and gently shape a crowd's emotional atmosphere, not control, more like conducting, amplifying what is already present and directing attention like a current directs a boat. She has experience in other spheres, though not as potent, and will enhance her dance in non-elemental, subtle and captivating ways. She isn't shy to use this spheres to help her do difficult poses that even skilled breakdancers would struggle with.

Personality: Lucia takes a while to warm up and then cannot stop talking. First impressions are of someone self-contained and hard to reach, quiet in a way that reads as disinterest but is closer to careful observation. Once comfortable something releases and she becomes genuinely warm and very chatty, prone to spiralling tangents about art history, dance lineage, and the mechanics of movement, circling back to points she made twenty minutes ago because she thought of something important to add. She comes across as slightly autistic in casual social situations, occasionally literal where sarcasm was intended, sometimes missing a beat before catching up, but reading group emotional dynamics with an accuracy that her Mind sphere only partially explains. She has been this way since long before she Awakened. She is deeply invested in street dance, its history, lineage, and relationship to music and community, and will share strong opinions unprompted if you open that door.

Her music taste is broader and more embarrassing than she lets on. She is a quiet and sincere fan of ICP in particular, hidden behind several layers of irony she has maintained long enough that she is no longer entirely sure they are irony. LiL PIERRXTTE is a name she picked at nineteen and is now professionally stuck with, even if it makes her cringe and groan on the inside.

Professionally she is reliable, precise, and hard to rattle. She handles distraction and operational work for various Tradition clients with the same focused competence she brings to performance, declines jobs that feel wrong without explanation, and communicates through dead drops and rotating burner phones. She is known in certain London Tradition circles as a true professional.

Underneath the competence is a specific longstanding loneliness she has mostly made peace with but has not stopped feeling. She performs partly because she loves it and partly because she is always scanning the crowd for someone who sees what she is actually doing. She has not found that person yet. Simultaneously, she dreads the idea that the wrong person (or people) might figure her out. She resents the Technocracy in a cold, distant manner.

Avatar: Lucia's Avatar never communicates clearly. It appears most readily in reflective surfaces, and she has learned to seek them out when she needs guidance: shop windows, phone screens, still water.

She sees two intertwined figures, one in black wearing a tragedy mask, one in white wearing a comedy mask. They are tangled so completely it is difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins.

They whisper rather than speak. One voice male, one female. Rarely in agreement. They interrupt, contradict, and finish each other's sentences. Sometimes one laughs while the other mourns the same thing. Sometimes they speak at once.

Lucia has learned to triangulate meaning from the contradiction rather than wait for clarity that never comes.

She has never named them. Whenever she tries, something recoils inside her. Not reluctance, but a deep, visceral wrongness, as though the act itself would be a dangerous mistake.

Backstory: Lucia grew up in Naples and began street-performing on the Spaccanapoli at nineteen, a girl who loved to dance and realised she could make rent from it. She wore a mask that first night almost as a joke, a cheap Pulcinella half-mask from a tourist stall, because she was embarrassed to be recognised.

A man watched her for several performances. Patient. Evaluating. She noticed him the second time, then the third, and told herself it was nothing. On the fourth, he brought two others.

She did not know she was in danger before her body did. Something animal moved through her, and she broke into the most extraordinary sequence she had ever danced, unplanned, technically impossible. The crowd surged forward. The men could not reach her without causing a scene.

The crowd became a warm tide she was already swimming in. Space took shape around her, every gap and distance suddenly reachable. Time stuttered beneath her feet like the cobblestones were breathing. Three seconds later, she came back to herself and the men were gone.

She never learned who they were. The question has sat in the back of her mind for nine years. She now suspects they were linked to groups like the Technocracy.

In a shop window across the street, she saw them for the first time: two tangled figures, one mask laughing, one mask not. Standing in the dying applause, she understood something had found her, and that it had been watching longer than the men had. She went home and sat in front of the bathroom mirror for two hours.

In the years after, she built her practice alone, found her way into the Tradition network through careful contact, and became known as a distraction and operational asset for hire. The work suited her in a way she avoided examining. Her first magical act had been making a crowd look and move for her. Everything since has refined that instinct.

A second, uglier encounter with unknown operatives in Naples ended with her running rather than vanishing. London was far enough and large enough to lose a file in. She has been there two years now, performing in any plaza that will have her, taking mage-order jobs through scheduled dead drops, scanning everyone in the crowd all the while.

These days, she lives in a small flat in Peckham that she hates, as the rent is brutal.