[I - never - need - your - sympthathy] (Glitter)

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Marcelli had always been an intellectual, one of the few people in the world who liked to keep their self-fufilled poise to themselves. Sure, she was labeled concieted as a child, a goody-two-shoes. Behind the curtain, though, she was planning to kill with her father. Well, not planning, but more of a promise of killing. A family pact, a generational thing. It was something Marcelli had never questioned. She just went along with it, nodding and encouraging herself that she indeed, was a killing machine. Yes, a killing machine. Of course, she couldn't take down a wild deer or anything, but she could kill someone with the chemicals from a plant.... if she really chose to. Of course, being as cold and heartless as Marcelli would be, she would probably readily kill someone. With a cold laugh, she would.

She blinked her eyes so the eyelids merged together, her eyelashes twinkling in the slight sunlight. The remaining amount of light flickered through the leaves, casting intrestingly shaped shadows amongst the ground. The ground hadn't quite thawed yet, but the earthen smell of dirt was enough to send Marcelli into a happy-mode. An unusual emotion for her, but as the spring would come, a sprigmint, a poisonous flower, would become more avaliable for her... killings. Yes, a pleasant word for the killings. A simplistic word that got straight to the point. A word that wasn't too frilly, wasn't too happy. Hell, it wasn't even intresting enough of a word for people to steal it. Marcelli absolutley loved the word. Poetic, and somewhat down to the point. Not like her, but like her name. Mafia name, Baby!

The slightly disturbed soil beneath her feet made her sink a bit further into the brush, her feet slowly drenching themselves in the gloppy mud. Ah, the wonderful noise of vomiting.... Marcelli just then noticed something. She wasn't alone in the woods. Blinking twice, she looked around the corner to spot a thirteen or so year old boy, crouching against the leaves and vomiting. It was quite unusual for Marcelli to stumble across someone outside of the uprising, which she very much thought was an organization of cowards. Sure, they gave her food and everything but honestly.... they did nothing. They sat there and talked There were catfights. Everyone seemed to be on an intimate basis with themselves, and being lazy. And if Marcelli was anything, she was anything but those things.

She sneered silently, throwing her head back into a quiet cackle that had no noise audible to the human ear. She snickered silently as she intched through the brush. Her feet tapped silently as she finally decided something. She was going to try to violently murder this kid. With acidic plants. She smirked and plucked a few leaves she was familiar with. Smiling snidley, she laughed slightly and skipped towards the boy.[/size][/color][/blockquote]