Lor sometimes considered it an act of luck. Of fate holding the key turned in the lock for when terror came to town. She'd been in sticky situations, including ones with possessed lollypops, but had always managed a way out, or rather, had the care and keen eye of a protector for the darker years of Syche City.

One might suppose it was simply morbid fascination that brought her along this side of town, away from her casual ritual of replacing tyres and pressing gas, or the dust and flake of renovations. Perhaps it was just much needed fresh air. Perhaps it was to shop for something she couldn't point at just yet.


She walked tall, a confident march down the street, shaggy waves swishing at her shoulders, shoulders back, spine straight, with a beaten old bag slung over an arm, what she called the colour was "babyshit" though most preffered "kaki". Her meander through the winding streets had brought her here with a hunch for adventure, or once again, merely to be be engrossed by that which she'd never explored; the outer limits of sexuality. The fringe of the soul. The areas we don't cross. For whatever reasons steer us away from that fork in the road.


Lorana boldly went where Lorana had never gone before, a hand out to rap across the door her arrival. Swinging the bag back some, adjusting its strap on her shoulder, she stared at the door, wondering what it was that brought her here afterall, precisely.