cold-blooded.

i haven’t seen this posted on tumblr yet and i’m dying so you all have to Witness it 

by nature, he’s an obligate carnivore. he can eat other foods, but the majority of his diet has to be animal-based protein. he has predatory impulses, but they disturb and disgust him to the point that he won’t eat anything live on principle.

like snakes and lizards, luchino has an incredibly powerful sense of smell. this is thanks to a system called the vomeronasal (or jacobson’s) organ, which is located above the roof of the mouth, in the nasal cavity. the tongue-flicking behavior that luchino shares with reptiles picks up airborne particles and brings them back to the vomeronasal organ for examination. having a forked tongue gives him a directional sense of smell. bonus fun fact: humans naturally have vestigial jacobson’s organs!

his sense of smell basically compensates for his other senses being mediocre (by animal standards) at best. sight and hearing are both about the same as when he was human. he’s slightly farsighted, but he’s always been, so that’s unrelated to the whole reptile thing.

setting him apart from snakes (besides the obvious, like having limbs) is holdover physiological features like eyelids and visible ears. like most lizards, he also has nictitating membranes (those third eyelids some mammals also share). since he has eyelids, he doesn’t have the immovable, eye-covering scales called brilles (or spectacles) that snakes and some lizards have.

as a scientist, he’s constantly torn between curiosity and revulsion at his own condition. the feeling isn’t as visceral now—he’s mostly past the most intense grief and rage at what happened to him, approaching a kind of half-hearted acceptance of existing this way. which is not to say that he isn’t hurt. the luchino he was is dead, in essence. the entire life he had planned and every hope he had for the future has been cut short. he has nothing waiting for him outside the manor, no salvation for participating in this endless game.

Luchino is beginning to wonder if he can file a complaint against particular locations being used for matches. First it was the asylum earlier this week, and now he’s found himself in Golden Cave.

He’s not claustrophobic, but he’s no fan of spaces like this where he can hardly utilize his skills to their fullest. And yet, he’s clambering down one of the ladders to the lower levels of the mines. There’s more places to hide down here—if he wants this to be over quickly, he needs to check where the survivors are most likely to go. 

It’s deathly quiet when he hops off the ladder, a cloud of dust floating up from the hard-packed dirt beneath him. 

When Luchino sits down in the library, there are a few things he expects. Quiet, being left alone, etcetera. 

What he doesn’t expect is glancing up from his book to find himself face-to-face with a pair of staring yellow eyes. The eyes are what he notices first, anyways. Large, ominously unblinking, and...belonging to a cat, it turns out. 

It must have hopped up onto the table without him noticing. That has to be the answer, right?

Questions aside, it’s Ann’s cat. That much he knows. Whether it has a name or not, he has no idea. But the most important fact is that the nun herself is never far away when the cat is nearby.

...Is that the rustle of cloth behind him, or just his imagination? If Ann is trying to sneak up on him (for whatever reasons she might have), he’s not about to give her the satisfaction of him frantically looking around. 

Autumn is here. The air is crisp, but the sun is shining, despite everything. And Luchino is in the garden, walking in a crouch through the brush, clearly stalking something.

When the time is right, he pounces—not one of his jumps, a proper lunge forward—catching something in his hands.

He doesn’t have time to examine it, or even reveal what it might be, before the sound of footsteps on one or the garden paths reaches him. Luchino pulls himself up to his (almost) full height as the person approaches. No point in hiding, which would make what he’s up to look even stranger. Besides, he has no particular feud with this person.

It’s the Gardener, which he knows before he even sees her.

Like anyone else, she has a scent associated with her—one much like the garden, of course. But there’s something different, specific to Emma. A hint of...ash? Charcoal? It’s hard to place, but instantly apparent.

The catacombs beneath the cathedral are immense, a largely disused labyrinth of tunnels that can be used as a quick and unseen path to almost anywhere in the city. This comes in handy when you are someone (something) like Luchino. 

There’s still a little bit of a thrill to the secrecy of it all—here he is, right below the nave of the church, with no one the wiser.

Well, besides the person he’s here to meet, of course. 

            Perhaps in the same overarching subject did you have something in common. However, given the other’s exterior looks, he felt rather comfortable to assume that he didn’t study in mechanics like you. Perhaps biology, or GENETICS. Your concentration had been at best spotty while trying to work, hence you being out an about in the evening. You hadn’t expected a run-in with the lizard hybrid of a hunter. 

“So you were a scientist too. A complete human one I’d assume. What was your workplace like?”

@lethalcrashed​​ || s.c.

The sound of claws clicking on the floor cuts short.

“Look at you, smart guy,” he says, followed by a chuffing laugh to indicate he’s not being fully sarcastic.

For not having talked much, Luchino has found himself with something of an undue soft spot for the “Prisoner” (as the manor has decided to title him). He’s bright, certainly, but there’s something else about him that evokes a sense of familiarity.

In another life, Luca could have been one of his students.

“I worked at a university. Biology department. I taught the classes allotted to me and pursued my research the rest of the time.” More precisely, Thompson had found rich humor in saddling him with the introductory courses.