Spending time with Harley definitely had its' ups. From the night of Tim and Giraldi's murders, Harley and Roxanna became really close, like Bonnie and Clyde. She mentioned where she stayed and who her Kadra was at one time, and Roxanna took the moment to note it in her head. She really wanted to meet this Kadra that Harley bragged about, and since Roxanna wasn't too sure about going to the skate park, she had a package delivered to the Kadra instead.
Inside this box with a red bow was a carpet. It was not just any carpet; it was a carpet that she made herself, and within the material, one would see the beautiful, clean stitching etched inside. The material was not just any material; it was human skin. Skin from Tim's once beautiful male sculpture, and that of Giraldi's. It was so smooth and soft to the touch, and the skin tones mixed together was nothing the Kadra could find in a catalogue or a store. It was a color that was one of a kind, a beautiful masterpiece, and not to mention the thin layer of fur upon gave it a unique sparkle beneath a light from the tips.
With the box, a letter was included that read:
"Dear Kadra, I made something special for you. It's a carpet that I made myself from human skin. I hope you like it. Maybe we can meet up sometime. I'd love to meet the powerful, sexy vixen that Harley keeps talking about to me. Hope to hear from you soon.
Love your secret admirer, Roxanna De Luca."
Upon the letter, Roxanna rubbed her scent and her power in; it was clearly entwined with Harley's as well, so when the Kadra would smell the sweet aroma, she knew the shifter wasn't lying, and she could also tell that the shifter was powerful, too, almost Master Level, but not quite.
-At the moment Harley was quickly climbing the ranks of Shane's shit list. Never a good thing for anyone. So when she received the letter and gift from the shape shifter she was more than curious about why exactly her red headed slut had been running her mouth all over town about her Kadra and how to find her. When you had at least a dozen people who wanted you dead it was never good to have too many people know how to find you.-
-As Shane had taken the package from the delivery boy she slammed the door in the boys face, daring him to knock again expecting a tip. The letter was read and then she tore the box to shreds while walking towards the bedroom where she'd been putting Crawley to sleep just before the knock had come at the door. When her cold hand touched the human skin a shiver of pleasure swept through her. The 'rug' was pulled from the box and she let the rest of the wrapping and packaging fall underfoot. Someone would clean it up eventually.-
-Taking a seat on the edge of the bed she gently laid the skin rug over Crawleys little body, it would keep the snake child warm while she slept, and Shane found the gift appropriate. Only after she finished telling Crawley her bedtime story, in which Goldilocks ate the three little bears, did she leave the bedroom and go to call Harley. With the red headed whore on the phone she was able to get Roxanna's number. There was a little plot brewing in Shane's mind, and since the shapeshifter was seeking an alliance with the snakes she decided to include her in it.-
The smell and the texture of the rug were so unique that Crawly couldn't keep her hands off of it. Textures were her favorite things. Followed by scent and taste, and the little blanket had all of those in spades. It smelled familiar, with hints of decay adding depth and interest. The fact that Mommy gave it to her made the little snake hiss in pure adoration when she coiled beneath the blankie.
Warm and safe and in the loving embrace of her mother, Crawly drifted off to sleep. Muttering something in her sleep about how she wanted to hear the Cindarella story next.
In that story, Cindarella found a very productive way to deal with her diferences. By disembowling her sisters and step mother and making the prince her bitch. It was Crawly's favorite story of all time. When Mommy slipped off the bed, the child knew she was gone. Even during sleep a part of her remained aware (maybe that's why the frequent far away stares during the day) to all things while she slept. And when Mommy wasn't there, the child pouted. Curling up like a bug under a skin rug before falling into deeper slumber. Come morning, the blanket was going to be a bonafied cape to be worn anywhere and everywhere as long as the craftmanship held.