[Anyone] The Army Attacks

Fawzi - a tall woman that looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties - sat on a bench in the largest park in the, an open bag at her feet and a slice of stale bread in her hands.

She was a dark woman of mixed Arabic and African descent with a fairly slim build and clear skin showed off by a midriff shirt and loose jeans that hung off her hips, showing off her cleavage and hip piercings as they glinted in the evening light.

Her hair was matted in thick dreads on one side of her head, tied up in a bun just behind her ear, feathers decorating the style. The other side of her hair was shaved short. A soft smile curled her lips as her long fingers tore at the slice of bread, ripping a small chunk from the slice.

She tossed the slice at the miniature army of ducks huddling together in front of the bench she was perched on. In a hissing mass of feathers, the ducks attacked, fighting each other for the chunk of stale bread.

"Go forth minions, cause chaos," she chuckled, tossing another chunk into the fray.

This was a common occurrence. She came here every other day without fail to feed these ducks. They had become her best friend in the years she had been living in the city.

Evgeni lit a cigarette, watching the smoke rise up into the air in thought. He had been smoking them more recently. It would be a lie if he said he hadn't been stressed.

The shit with Zakhar went round and round in his head. Had he enjoyed being submissive? No. Of course not. That was ridiculous. And he still deeply hated the man with a passion so why did he miss it? Was it being close to someone for once? Even if only physically?

He never let anyone into his bubble. So even if Zakhar had forced his way through the wall, it was something new for him, something frightening, something unpleasant but then... different. Maybe on some level, he did like having someone near?

No. That was shit.

His eye fell on the woman on the bench. A Supernatural? Out here? Not in the mansion? He hadn't seen her before. His eyes narrowed slightly. She had to be up to something. Oh well, it could provide some amusement and relief from his own thoughts at least.

"Oi!" he yelled, walking over to her, chest puffed out aggressively, arms folded. "What are you doing here? You're not part of the mansion. What do you want?"

Her eyes flickered up when she heard the aggressive tones of the man.

She watched him silently for a long minute. A Supe, definitely. He knew about the mansion. Evidently an occupant.

"There are a lot of Supes around that don't live in the mansion." She was just one of many. A lot of people didn't like the idea of living with a lot of other people. She and her brother weren't the only ones that thought that.

She tossed a chunk of bread at his feet, watching as the group of ducks - two dozen give or take - barged forwards to fight for that piece at his feet, bashing into him, nipping at his legs harshly as they bought him into the fight.

"The city's my turf. Has been for years."

She'd lived in Catania for close to five years. Longer than he had, she was sure.

Her posture never lost its relaxed state. She wasn't scared of this man and that shone clearly in her dark eyes and calm pose.