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Post by Beelzebibble on May 4, 2010 17:02:36 GMT -5
Monday the 16th 1:13 pm“The lounge,” said Terrian. “Through here.” The corridor which had run alongside the dining hall now opened onto a wide room with a low crimson ceiling – mahogany, Terrian guessed. Thin stone walls portioned off the room into several sections; nearest to them was a bar fronted by a smooth slate-gray countertop that snaked lazily from one corner to another. Though the bar wasn’t yet open, and likely wouldn’t be for several more hours, there were nonetheless several hotel patrons sitting and chatting on the black leather revolving chairs up and down the length of the counter. The central section of the room, sun-soaked by large windows, housed an enormous television and a billiards table, neither of which was in use at the moment. Further down, Terrian could see a sort of miniature gallery, with a variety of paintings in ornate golden frames arranged on the walls around a few display cases. Near the television stood another doorframe which opened onto a smaller hallway. There was a tall, bespectacled man standing there, with curly hair as dark as the trim suit he was wearing. He inclined his head as Terrian and the others approached. “Terrian Brogue,” he said, without a question mark. Terrian reached out a hand, which the other man met faintly. Against his better judgement, he decided to smile. “My friends are coming in too. This is Rhys, that’s Rie, and the big guy’s Jonas.” The other man’s eyebrows rose slightly as he looked over Terrian’s companions, and he nodded to Rie as if in recognition, but he didn't speak a word as he beckoned them to follow him. Feeling vaguely reminded of Alpha, Terrian continued after him through another door, onto yet another hallway, and through one final door into a much darker room. ISHKABIBBLE SCENE SEVEN Massimo Giarrettiera Considers the Counterfeiter as a Lucrative Business Prospect In contrast to the lounge, the windows here were very thin, and the overlapping wooden slats of the blinds allowed little light through. The ceiling lamp, positioned beneath fan blades which revolved unhurriedly, did a lackluster job of improving the visibility in the room. Terrian took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust. Of course, it was easy to see the pairs of shadowed figures who stood on either side of the door, carrying perfectly visible pistols. But no one had lifted a barrel yet, which meant Terrian had obviously progressed at least a notch upward from the treatment by the three gentlemen who’d come calling at his home not sixty minutes ago. He relaxed slightly and looked around. As he blinked, more details of the office came into focus: the walls lined with overspilling bookcases, the dark blue round-backed chairs, the enormous family portrait mounted on the far wall… Three of the faces there Terrian could recognize easily enough. They belonged to the short, slightly balding man seated at the desk in front of him; the brawny, thick-set man standing to his right; and the one who had brought them in, who had now moved to stand to the left of the short man’s chair. He looked precisely as indifferent as before, and the cheeks of the man standing on the right were pulled back in a warning scowl, but Terrian was surprised to see that the seated man was actually smiling. Warmly, in fact. This pleased Terrian. He could see at once that here was a kindred spirit, even if the smile was a sham. Especially if so, come to think of it. The seated man raised both hands in greeting. “Here he is,” he said. “The man of the hour!” He clapped his hands together and allowed them to rest upon the desk. “Mr. Brogue, I have the honor to introduce myself. My name is Massimo Giarrettiera. These are my brothers, Cesare—” (he indicated the muscular one) “—and you’ve already met Nico,” he finished with a gesture toward the one who had seen them in. “I’m very glad you’ve come, Mr. Brogue,” the short man went on. “We have a lot to talk about. That’s assuming you’re not going to try to put a bullet through my head, of course.” The gunmen standing among the bookcases bristled as if on cue. Cesare also leaned back and let his hand drop without subtlety. The Don, however, had not ceased to smile. He looked down briefly as if about to invite the visitors to sit in the chairs, but must have thought better of it after a glance at Jonas.
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Post by ch00beh on May 8, 2010 22:26:02 GMT -5
"We have a lot to talk about. That’s assuming you’re not going to try to put a bullet through my head, of course."
That wasn't right. Massimo knew exactly what happened, or at least had a good idea of what the general gist was. He knew the four people in front of him had survived, challenged, possibly killed, or at the very least disabled, three of his lackeys while they were trying to do a shake down. After all that, the group barely had a scratch on them, except for a few punctures and bruises. This man should not have been smiling.
And there was that Nico guy. He had to have an idea, or he possibly even knew, that Rie was a Power. Or at least he should have known she was crazy in the action-oriented way.
"Question: did you send your guys to shake us down or deliver a message?" Rie asked, her face betraying no signs of either amicability or indignation, and her tone only hinting at business-like solemnity.
The answer to her question would let Rie and everyone else know exactly what kind of man they were dealing with; either the Don was an unashamed bully or a powerful man with stupid lackeys. Either way, he was not nice, as he would try to have them believe.
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Post by Beelzebibble on May 18, 2010 12:39:17 GMT -5
The Don scratched his lip as he listened to the woman's question. "Rie, is that right?" There was a nod from Nico on his left. Massimo frowned slightly and leaned back in his chair for a moment. Nico's lips moved briefly, although it was impossible for Terrian to hear what he was saying. The oldest brother's eyes moved over Jonas and Rhys in turn as the younger brother spoke. Then Massimo sat forward again and tilted his head up in thought.
"Shake you down or deliver a message..." he repeated softly. He snapped his fingers twice without making a sound. Since the lesser mafiosos in the room didn't immediately raise their guns and attempt to mow Rie down for having the audacity to pose that question, Terrian guessed that the gesture might have been a simple reflex of thought. "This is a tricky one," the Don confessed after a moment. "On reflection, I'm not totally sure I agree with the framework of the question. Where's the need to distinguish? Say I wanted to do both if you like. Or half of each. Call it either a modestly forcible message... or maybe a very communicative shakedown."
He smiled at Terrian again. Don Massimo was giving him some odd material to work with here. Terrian had run up against a mob in New Jersey a few times in the years when he'd still been working in his homeland, and his experience of them was that you didn't see that much improvement in articulation and manner as you moved up the chain of command. By contrast, here was an almost aggressively well-spoken mafioso. He must have been taking a cue from Marlon Brando. Out of the three brothers, though, Cesare was the only one who had the right jawline for the part.
Speaking of Cesare, he was the next to put forward an abrupt question. "Where are they?"
"Fair question," said Massimo. "Mr. Brogue?"
"In the garage," Terrian said at once. Then, somewhat regretting how bald this had sounded, he tried to parlay it into a bargain. "We knocked them out. They're tied up in the car. Got a friend keeping an eye on them. All yours once we've finished this talk peacefully, sir."
"Another friend? Hmm. There are quite a lot of you, aren't there?"
Terrian didn't respond to that, but he smiled. Probably would have chuckled if the mood had seemed right.
Massimo shrugged. He took out a pack of matches and a cigarette. "No problem," he said. He lit the cigarette and shook the match out with a flick of the wrist. "Generous of you to bring them along, whatever state they're in. I just don't really like losing track of my corpses. This strains family ties, you understand. There's always someone's girlfriend or wife damning me to hell just because I don't happen to know in which lake her sweetheart ended up."
Cesare was glaring more emphatically than ever. Either he was just amping up the menace at preordained intervals to keep the conversation from growing light, or he didn't appreciate how casually Massimo was discussing the possibility that Terrian, Rie, Jonas and Rhys could have flat-out murdered those three thugs who'd come knocking.
Nico readjusted his glasses.
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SV
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Post by SV on May 18, 2010 18:06:35 GMT -5
Massimo Giarrettiera studied each of them in turn, the tall, stoic brother muttering to him incomprehensibly all the while. It appeared that Nico's duty to the family was that of intelligence gathering. No doubt he had done considerable research into each of their backgrounds and personal lives. Something in the Don's expression seemed to change, though, as he regarded Rhys. Just barely. With the low lighting, he may just be imagining it.
Rhys kept his expression neutral, taking in the room and the men at the desk before them as Massimo spoke.
"Terrian," Rhys muttered in cautious tones, as the conversation turned to men going missing into lakes, "Alpha's alone. Do you think he'd be okay if...?" He trailed off, eyes flicking to the nearest armed goon. It was safe to assume that the Don had many more than just those present at his disposal. There was nothing stopping him from sending a few of them to reacquire his unconscious lackeys and deal with Alpha as they saw fit.
Nothing short of provocation, anyway. Massimo had no reason to make this situation anything less than diplomatic, as far as Rhys knew. If it stayed that way, they may all make it out of this unscathed.
Rhys readjusted his glasses. A movement across the room drew his eye as Nico adjusted his own. The two regarded each other coolly, Rhys uncertain as to whether the other recognized him somehow or was simply sizing him up.
He had an uncomfortable feeling it was the former.
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Post by Hamuu on May 25, 2010 16:25:53 GMT -5
One thing Jonas had never been able to figure out was how his clothes resized themselves whenever he shrank or grew. Whatever subconscious thought or ability that caused it to occur, he was thankful for the side-effect. When they entered the room, Jonas made a quick assessment of its occupants then puffed himself up so he’d be at least four feet taller than anyone else. It also helped that he had to hunch over to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling, a natural optical illusion that made him seem even bigger than he already was. Without the resizing clothes, he’d have looked more comical than menacing.
Jonas knew it was overkill, but it would work in his favor. A majority of the goons in the room had their eyes on him or at least glanced at him every few minutes. In response, he stared at the don unwaveringly. It was bluff of course; he needed to make them think he was the top priority to take down if things went south. If this did degrade into another fight, the goons would start unloading clips into him immediately, giving Terrian, Rie, and Rhys a momentary advantage.
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Post by ch00beh on May 28, 2010 13:00:44 GMT -5
Rie regarded the man for a moment, then regarded the nearest chair with equal interest. She casually took her cloak off and hung it on the back of the seat before sitting down. Underneath the heavy clothing, she was wearing a black tank top and fatigue pants, but that wasn't the surprising point. On her belt, she still had her three pistols. Hung on her back was her trusty rifle. And strapped to her upper arms and thighs were a large assortment of throwing and combat knives, each carefully placed so as not to cause any suspicious clinking noises when moving, but densely enough to be threatening.
If one were discerning enough to look, one would have seen even more knives inside the cloak, as well as a few casually hanging grenades.
Rie crossed her legs and leaned back.
"Ok. So I believe you. Well, here we are. I assume you'd like to do business, and we have some of our own."
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Post by Beelzebibble on Jun 1, 2010 22:29:08 GMT -5
Under cover of Rie's question, Terrian murmured in Rhys' direction, "No one's laying a hand on him. He'll let me know." To further explain his duplicate-recalling ability would have been a tiresome piece of exposition that would fit much comfortably elsewhere. Besides, Don Massimo was speaking again.
"Business. Fantastic. My favorite word. Balm of all hostility. Maker of friends. Let's... Where are they." He'd slid open one drawer at his desk but closed it again. The next one seemed to hold whatever he was looking for. "Let's ease into this. Let's not go slathering all the balm on at once. Let us restrain ourselves. Nico, pass these along to Mr. Brogue, would you?" The short man pressed something into the bespectacled man's hand. Nico crossed around the table and gave it to Terrian with the first direct eye contact Terrian had caught since introducing himself. On the whole he was actually kind of glad that eye contact with Nico was a rare and storied phenomenon. These weren't the most pleasant limpid pools of midnight he'd ever gazed into.
What he placed with a cold brush into Terrian's hand was sixty dollars in the form of three twenties.
This time Terrian did actually chuckle a little. "Hey," he said, "if this is your idea of doing business then I guess we're on the fast track to being... friends after all." What this ellipsis is meant to encapsulate was an instant's pause as something caught in Terrian's throat which is what happened when he noticed that all three of the bills had the same serial number: IF 56415810 A. He remembered the ill-shaven thug's words about counterfeiting back at the mansion and understood that what he'd guessed then was correct. It was to Terrian's credit that he was able to cough out the last three words of this sentence in a tone almost as relaxed and convivial as the first bunch.
"Oh we are hurtling in that direction," Massimo said.
His fingers were comically steepled and this cast his face into shadow a little. But it was clear he was smiling again.
Terrian kept his eyes evenly upon the Don even though he was perfectly aware of another rustling from around the dark and tall room.
"So what did I do to earn this?" he asked. There was an urge to prattle which he failed to fight down. "Or is it an advance? Because I've got to say, I mean not trying to be rude, but I usually charge more than sixty bucks for killing a man with my bare--"
Cesare broke in with a suggestion. "Wanna read us the f*ckin' serial numbers?"
There was a pause.
Then, softly: "Sir, I really would, but there's a shitload of digits and letters and I get the sense it'd be a waste of everyone's time."
That elicited an outraged expression from Cesare but it slid away into a chin-juttingly satisfied grin, apparently once it occurred to him that Terrian was basically admitting the jig was up. Strangely, though, Massimo's face took the opposite route: his smile faded, replaced with an appraisingly neutral mien. Maybe his cheerful act had, as the great villains said, outlived its usefulness. Although his tone was still quite upbeat as he spoke next: "Your friends aren't worried that we're going to start shooting, are they? Friends. You know you don't have to be afraid of that, I hope?"
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Post by Hamuu on Jun 9, 2010 18:14:56 GMT -5
“What reason do we have to be afraid?” Jonas spoke a little slower than normal, so those in the room not familiar with his thick accent would be able to understand him. “Shooting didn’t help those men when you sent after us. Don’t seem like it’d make much of a difference now either.” God, I love for once having a character that does the worst things possible at the wrong times. I almost wish he could be like that forever lol
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Post by ch00beh on Jun 11, 2010 14:05:06 GMT -5
The girl snuck a look over Terrian's shoulder. What was this all about? As soon as the brothers asked for the serial, Rie understood. This was about the counterfeiting. They probably didn't appreciate an influx of money in their territory that was not theirs. This was delicate.
And then Jonas made a veiled threat.
Rie almost buried her face in her palms; she also almost had the urge to elbow Jonas, but it probably wouldn't shut him up, and the quick movement would probably make the guards open fire. This was not the time to be burly. This was a meeting with the most powerful man in Ecruteak. Sure, the Powers had just lost the verbal advantage, but trying to get it back through intimidation was not the best move. This is why she liked working alone. No one else around to put their foot in their mouth during a job offer.
Speaking of feet in mouths, Terrian seemed to be at a loss for words now that he realized that he had been found. Rie almost sighed. She would probably have to work this. The girl leaned forward to get the focus back on herself. "What my associate is trying to say is that there is no point in either of us being enemies because we would work better as allies. That is what we're here to do, right? Become friends, chums, partners, whatever."
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Post by Beelzebibble on Jun 15, 2010 14:38:52 GMT -5
"You want to put that little theory to the test, fatass?" Cesare growled, bringing up his gun for the first time. Terrian froze. For an instant he was sure Cesare was about to try putting some bullets into Jonas. However, at the sight of one uplifted hand from Massimo, Cesare withdrew, and there was no motion from the gunmen around. Cesare lowered his gun with a sullen grimace. The Don regarded Jonas for a moment.
Then he said, "I'm a little tired of acting as Cesare's interpreter all the time if we're being honest. Nico, please field this one."
Without missing a beat, the youngest brother said to Jonas, "Cesare's simply curious how it was that Vinnie, Phil and Dom's visit degraded into a shootout. He'd like to know how the scene played out. He also considers you disastrously overweight." Nico rubbed one ear and looked humorlessly askance at Cesare. "By the way, that was a hypothesis, not a theory."
"Fuck you."
"Thanks, Nico. And what an excellent question that is, Cesare," said Massimo. He nodded expectantly toward Terrian.
"Oh! Well, uh..." Terrian recalled Vinnie pushing him down against the cardboard boxes in the basement, and what had happened after that. "Those guys. Shooting. Well, they were handling things okay at first, but I'd say they must have freaked out when they saw the printing press. I mean that's when the bullets started flying. So we didn't really have much choice but to fight back. Couldn't let the machinery get damaged, you know."
Massimo'd perked up considerably at the mention of what Vinnie, Phil and Dom had freaked out about. "The printing press?" he asked. "Now what, if you don't mind my asking, is so unusual about that?"
Terrian hesitated. "Promise no one's going to lose it?"
"I promise."
With some difficulty in the cramped room, Terrian nudged one of the chairs aside by a few inches, held up the three identical twenty-dollar bills and stepped forward while simultaneously staying exactly where he was. There were now two Terrian Brogues standing in front of Massimo Giarrettiera's desk. Each of them was holding three identical twenty-dollar bills. Massimo's eyes widened. Cesare reared back. Even Nico's eyebrows twitched. The other mafiosi in the room variously flinched and gasped. Both Terrians set their money down on the desk and then re-merged. There was now one Terrian Brogue who casually scooped up the six twenty-dollar bills while admittedly kind of enjoying the expression on the Don's face.
"I see," said Massimo slowly. "So you're the printing press."
Terrian glanced around. "How'm I looking? Any less expendable?"
Massimo didn't answer that.
"What about your friends? Are they the same?"
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Post by ch00beh on Jun 16, 2010 13:42:35 GMT -5
Rie watched Terrian do that thing that he does. She surveyed the room after he did the deed. So it looked like they didn't know they were dealing with Powers.
"What about your friends? Are they the same?"
Rie crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. Then she leaned back more and fell through the chair without so much as a sound or a gesture of warning. The girl disappeared into the floor only to drop down moments later from a particularly empty spot in the ceiling. She fell to the ground as lightly as she could, given her increased bone mass. There was still an audible thump as she hit the carpet.
"Not all of us make money instantly. Some of us are a little more combat and infiltration oriented." Rie spoke in her normal even, mildly apathetic tone. She reached into her pocket, slowly, so that no one would shoot her (though a few guards did raise their guns, but they had already been on edge from seeing a duplicator and a ghost) and pulled out a card. "Here, this is the main reason i came."
The girl shamelessly placed a card on the Don's table. All it had was the name "Rie Nepas" and a phone number, both hand written relatively neatly on the back of a trimmed down index card.
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Post by Hamuu on Jul 13, 2010 16:31:23 GMT -5
Revealing their abilities didn’t sit well with Jonas at all. In the past his dealings with these kinds of people hadn’t gone well and he didn’t like the aspect of being ‘friends’ with them. Nonetheless, Jonas followed along with the Terrian and Rie.
Not wanting to give them a clear idea what his power was, he decided to show them a trick he used to perform. Jonas produced a small brass ring from his pocket and held it up so everyone could see it. The gap inside had an inch diameter. Slowly he began to slide the ring onto his index finger. It was snug but not tight. He slid it all the way down his index finger to his knuckle, then continued sliding it over his fist to his wrist and all the up his arm until he stopped at the elbow.
He held out his arm and showed them where he stopped. The ring sat their, unchanged, while his massive arm appeared to condense once it got within an inch of the ring and cram through the opening all at once. Jonas slid it off and pocketed the ring.
“I can do dat wid any part of my body. Hell, I could ev’n wear da thing as a belt.”
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SV
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Post by SV on Jul 18, 2010 0:34:43 GMT -5
For roughly the hundredth time already this day, Rhys found himself in an uncomfortable position.
The office, though dim, was lit by the overhead fixture and whatever sunlight the mostly-closed blinds let in. The result of this was that his shadow (and all others in the room, for all intents and purposes) was little more than a feeble puddle on the ground. In short, it was useless for showcasing any power of his own whatsoever. He may as well whip out some interesting juggling.
Massimo regarded him appraisingly, with an expression that seemed to say, "Mr. Whitticker, if you would be so kind to entertain us..."
Rhys cleared his throat and glanced at one of the guards at by the door. "The lights," he said, gesturing briefly. "Turn the lights off, if you don't mind."
The goon hesitated a moment before flipping the switch, probably after a cue from one of the brothers behind the desk. The office was sufficiently dimmer now. The light through the blinds came in thin slashes cast against the opposite bookshelf, the room's occupants silhouetted on the myriad volumes.
Rhys raised his hand. His shadow's hand brushed against the string for the blinds. He motioned, as though pulling this, and closed the blinds completely. The room now as dark as it was likely to get, and everyone sufficiently distracted, he edged a few steps back toward the corner and faded into the darkness. When he reappeared, it was in the opposite corner of the room, drawing the blinds back open with his own hand.
He leaned his shoulder against the wall, awaiting the don's verdict. He kept his eyes locked on Nico.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Jul 22, 2010 18:44:02 GMT -5
Among the Giarrettiera members in the room there'd apparently been a paradigm shift which now made it perfectly okay for them to direct their guns freely upon the newcomers with no rebuke from the Don. Cesare had taken the lead in this reformation of the room's firearms policy, staring at the Powers demonstrating their abilities as if he were looking directly at an oncoming train. Terrian bit his thumbnail until he caught himself. But honestly even though they'd now cleanly passed Terrian's threshold for how many barrels he was comfortable looking down at once, he couldn't find it in his heart to blame the mobsters. This was obviously not the way they'd thought the day was going to go and they were scared, Cesare most of all. Nico and Don Massimo maybe less so. The latter's eyebrows had made a stirring ascent up his smooth forehead but his eyelids, contradictorily enough, had relaxed. He was looking at the Powers with an expression halfway between a smile and no smile. "Well now," he said, "you're all quite remarkable, aren't you." "Mass." The Don ignored Cesare. He picked up the business card. "Very formal," he observed. "I feel an obligation to return the favor... Hold on now." He rooted around in his wallet and pulled out a business card which he gave to Terrian. "Sorry, that batch is running low. Anyone wants their own copy, they can just ask you, I hope." ~ The Hotel Ansonia ~11 Basilicum Bvd, Winstone, Johto 329440 Tel: __ - ___ - __ - ____ Rsv Ln: __ - ___ - __ - ____ Fax: __ - ___ - __ - ____
"The card is for business," Don Massimo said briskly, "so let's arrange some. That's what I'd like to do at least. Can we agree this is a good idea?" He pressed both palms flat against the table. "Put simply, Mr. Brogue, I'd like to hire you. And I'm not going to go out of my way to persuade you that you have a choice in the matter, but I encourage you to interpret it that way if you want." He gestured around the room. "As for your friends, I assume our dear old acquaintance Ms. Nepas is expressing interest. I don't know whether--" " Mass." "Yes?" "The fuck are you doin', Mass?" Cesare muttered. "Since when do we--" "Excuse us a minute," the Don beamed, and he slid his chair aside for a moment to confer briefly with the middle Giarrettiera. Which left Terrian sitting in front of the desk and feeling very uncomfortably reminded of the Hawaii interview. The youngest brother, Nico, stepped forward to take point. Terrian nodded toward Cesare. "Rebel in the family, huh?" "Unfortunately," Nico replied without apology. The Don cut Cesare's words off with what sounded like a question of his own. Cesare blinked and blustered under his breath. Terrian leaned back and exchanged glances with Rie, Jonas and Rhys. Fewer allies than he'd had in Hawaii. But no supernatural associates on the Giarrettiera's side, apparently, as there'd been on Fascere's. If it came to a fight, could all four of them survive? Probably. Hopefully... but why did it have to come to a fight? Yes, the Giarrettieras had tried to overtake the counterfeiting operation earlier today, but now that they knew the real score... Terrian understood perfectly well you couldn't trust a Mafia man not to screw you over if that'd put any extra cash in his wallet. But here, now, Don Massimo knew where the money was. Maybe he'd be a good friend to have. Yeah, okay, Terrian had been trying to cut back on the "friends" list, but one more was not going to usher in the end times. "Sorry," the oldest Giarrettiera said. Cesare drew back, looking slightly red in the face. "No more interruptions. Mr. Brogue, have I at least captured your attention?" "What'd my pay be?" Terrian deadpanned. Don Massimo opened his mouth to answer before stopping short. "Ahahaha. Well played. Very droll. No wages obviously, Mr. Brogue, though of course we'd be happy to exchange some of your counterfeit money for, oh, heterogeneous bills if that'd put you more at ease about your own personal spending... No more slipups at d'Arcangel's." He drew one neatly-filed fingernail across the desk. "I can promise you better compensation than money. We'll talk about that in a minute. As for your friends, if cash won't intrigue them either, I'm sure we can find alternate benefits for them, too." He looked toward the other Powers, particularly Jonas and Rhys. "What about you, actually? Interested? No pressure. You are not my enemies. You can leave this hotel freely and safely whenever you like. Although I'll have to ask anyone who declines to step out for a few minutes so we can wrap things up with the takers." OOC: Massimo means it when he says no pressure. Actually I'm kind of assuming neither Jonas or Rhys would be up for doing any work for the Giarrettieras, but if they want to then that's just as well. Might be nice if either or both of you turned down the offer though -- if you stepped out into the lounge for the rest of the scene you could compare your thoughts on the situation so far or whatever. Give you a little more to do. Actually I'd have a (very little) PM for anyone who chose to decline the offer. Do what you like.
I'm also assuming Rie's staying, but Choobs, do what you like too.
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SV
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Post by SV on Jul 23, 2010 17:01:32 GMT -5
PM me, bro. I'm not thinking this sounds like Rhys's bag. Expect him to decline the offer.
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Post by Hamuu on Jul 28, 2010 18:43:00 GMT -5
Jonathan woke up in a shack, or something like it; the entire room swayed as though it were rocking gently on the waves. He could barely remember the dream he’d been having, something about a fruit and him becoming a monster.
“Ello? I’d enyone dere?” Jonathan shouted though he immediately clasped a hand over his mouth.
That wasn’t his voice, it was too deep, and why was he talking like that? Slowly he pulled his hand away and said the first thing that came to him mind.
“Mary ‘ahd a liddle lam’ id fleeze wah’d white ad snow… Wha iz happinin’ ta me?”
“Hey shrimp, how ya feeling?”
Jonathan looked towards the door and saw James, but not before seeing a large mass underneath the covers with him.
“No, don’t-” James rushed toward the bed in protest as Jonathan began to pull back the covers. Jonathan’s entire body was massive and, now that the covers were not obscuring his view, he noticed that he was actually on several beds placed side to side. His arms, hands, legs, feet, everything… he was giant.
“Id waz’ent a dream…”
James frowned, “I’m sorry buddy. I wanted to try and tell you before you saw it yourself… but I guess it’s kinda hard to hide.”
“Iz dat… a diaper?” Jonathan pointed towards his waist.
“Yeah,” James sat down on the edge of the bed, making himself look even more diminutive compared to his friend, “They didn’t have any clothes big enough to fit you, so they put a few bed sheets together. It was all we could do…”
“If diz id da bed sheets wahz dis?” Jonathan pointed at the covers he’d been sleeping under.
“A spare sail, we’re on a house boat… well sorta.”
“Wha’d ya mean?” Jonathan sat up, taking care not to crush James.
“It’s the mob, this boat is one of their runners. I can’t pay for both of us, so I offered my services in exchange for help. When we get to New York I’ll be working for them for a few months.”
“Wha? No ya k’aint do dat-”
“No,” James interrupted, “We’re AWOL now. Look when we get to shore, I’m gonna give you all the money we have between us. You use that to get to your wife and kid. While you do that I am gonna work for these guys and make us some money. Once you’ve seen them and talk to them, call me and we’ll decide if you’ll come back or if I’ll come to you guys. Things will start happening really fast now – when the navy finds out what happened, the full extent, they may want you for research.”
Jonathan nodded, “I gid wha ya sayin, we need ta law low.”
“Yeah,” James smiled, though something was wrong.
“I shud hav’ known dat. I shud have known wid’out id bein’ esplained…”
James didn’t answer.
“Dat fruit, id made me a monzter, changed me voyze, and id… id made me dumb did’ent?”
“I’ll be out on deck, holler if you need anything.” James stood up, but before he left patted Jonathan on the shoulder, “Look, we’re friends and we’re in this together. We’ll get through it.”
Jonathan turned away without saying anything. Once he knew James was gone he buried his face in the clump of pillows. He had lost something important, but it was impossible to gauge how much was missing.
Jonas stood his ground. The last time he left a friend alone with the mafia, he never saw him alive again. Rie could handle herself, he knew that, but Rhys and Terrian might need help. He didn’t know Rhys very well though and he’d already told Terrian he would see this through with him.
“Fine, I’ll hear ya out, but if dings get ta shady or I dun like where id’s goin, den I’ll walk.”
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SV
Friendliest Member of ALL TIME
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Posts: 2,250
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Post by SV on Aug 7, 2010 4:06:25 GMT -5
Rhys looked at each of his comrades in turn, his face touched with incredulity under its normal reserve. They were apprehensive, but utterly serious. “No.” He said this quietly, firmly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. Respectfully, of course,” he continued, inclining his head a stiff degree or so at the don. Massimo regarded him serenely over steepled fingers. If anyone in the room reacted in any way to his decision, they gave no sign of it. One of the goons opened the door behind him. Light, and the murmur of lunchtime conversations from the lobby, drifted in. Turning toward the exit, Rhys caught Terrian’s eye. “Find me out there, when you’re done,” he said quietly. There was a reproving tone he couldn’t quite keep out of this request. The lobby was bright, inviting, and he would have it to himself for the next several minutes as his associates sorted out their business proposals with the mob. The odds of it, he mused cynically, scanning the large room for something with which to entertain himself. He decided on what appeared to be a small gallery, which would certainly be a touch more engaging than the giant flatscreen or the billiards table opposite it. Sign a deal with the Mafia. The very idea of it. No, after Westergate, Rhys had enough of his share of the underground to serve him the rest of his life, thanks. He thumbed the ring on his left hand absently. Several large painting hung tastefully on the wall above a number of glass cases; the former in gilded frames that would have done little but cheapen lesser pieces of art (for these, while maybe not originals, exuded an authenticity that suggested they were, at the least, painstakingly copied); the latter arranged with a variety of artifacts that would have been just as at home in a museum. It was one such artifact, encased below a painting that boasted a plaque reading “BOULLOGNE”, which caught Rhys’s attention. It was a sword, plain enough at first glance, bronze like something from ancient Greece, but with a curved blade reminiscent of the katana or its ilk. The metal above the hilt was etched with characters that could have been from any eastern country, because it didn’t look quite like it matched those from any one in particular. More peculiar (by far) was that, when Rhys shifted his weight, a beam of light hit the sword and it sparkled. The sunlit metal glowed a faint gold that hinted at a ruby red as well, but faded back to a comparatively unremarkable bronze. Rhys furrowed his brow and stepped to the side. This time, the blade shimmered like mercury, once again returning to its original state once out of the sun again. He tried his experiment a third time, but the sword reflected the light as bronze would and deigned to diverge from its expected properties again. Curious, Rhys mused, meandering off toward the next case. He thought for a moment of that sword enthusiast they’d met a while ago, Prime or whatever his name was. Wonder if he’d seen it. He’d probably be interested in a strange old sword like that. Not proofed. Oh well.
Bulbs, every time you post more back story on Jonas, I like him a little more. Way to be awesome =)
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Post by Beelzebibble on Aug 8, 2010 20:55:24 GMT -5
Massimo nodded without visible concern after Rhys as he left the room. "Thank you," he said to the man who'd opened the door. "Oh, well!" He smiled at the three who'd remained. "Can't fault your friend for caution. Please do let him know, though, if he changes his mind, to contact us. He looked as though his wallet could do with a little fattening up, don't you think?" Terrian chuckled briefly in agreement, once again managing to put on a face quite a bit brighter than he felt. On the whole, he decided he did believe the Don hadn't just ordered Rhys to be taken around back by the garbage bins and shot... but there was still a part of Terrian that wished he too could opt out of the conversation and leave the room that easily. He was almost surprised Jonas was sticking through this, and that Rie had offered her card in the first place. Even so, they could still withdraw if they wanted to. Terrian couldn't. He was the haul the Giarrettieras weren't tossing back. Don Massimo's comment about Terrian pretending he had a choice in the matter was proof enough of that. "Now then. Where was I? I'm sorry." "You -- You mentioned better compensation than money," Terrian ventured. "Can we talk about that yet, or... is that still not...?" Massimo straightened up. "Oh! Obviously. Excuse me." He tapped his right temple. "Looking for the profit, Mr. Brogue. That's good. I like that. Only way to trust a man. Well..." He frowned for a moment, apparently trying to decide how to phrase his next comment. He looked to Cesare, who was busy sending psychic death beams at the Powers and had nothing to contribute, and Nico, who was busy polishing his glasses and also had nothing to contribute. "Let me ask you this. I'm just curious. Why Winstone?" Terrian blinked. After a pause, he said the first thing that came to mind: "The neighborhoods were the nicest." Massimo raised his eyebrows. Terrian went on. "I mean, okay, wow. That sounded pretty shallow just there. But it's kind of a legitimate reason, right? I wanted to live someplace nice. Never really, you know, had that growing up... One crammed apartment after another, basically. First crammed with family and then just crammed with stuff. I wanted to live someplace big..." "You wanted," Nico Giarrettiera repeated slowly, "to live someplace big." Terrian came close to glaring at him, but then he remembered to half-grin instead. "Does it sound that stupid? I guess it does, huh?" Nico's stony expression was a decent answer. "I don't consider that notably stupid," said the Don in the general direction of his youngest brother. "It's not going to go down in any of the history books. All I'm saying, Mr. Brogue, is... well, to be honest, I'm guessing if you'd known a little more about Winstone, you might have set your sights elsewhere." "Because of you guys, you mean." "Well that's just it. I don't mean us." Terrian watched the Don expectantly, but he didn't elaborate right away. He'd taken another uncharacteristic pause for words. Tense moment to need to restock on them, Terrian thought. "Listen," Massimo said. Well, it was a start. The short man sat back in his chair, causing both Cesare and Nico to, quite neatly if unconsciously, shift their weight inward toward him by an almost imperceptible amount. "Don't get me wrong," he went on. "We're in charge here. The Giarrettiera family runs this city. All the businesses worth speaking of, they're either ours or they've got deals with us. We dole out the money, we provide the security, we put the chicken in the pot. Okay? We are the lifeblood of Winstone. And..." He laughed under his breath. "All right. Let me extend this metaphor idiotically. When there's a virus or a parasite in town, you can be sure we waste no time in stamping the little bastard out." Terrian mouthed "Ah?" without really saying it. Massimo lowered his head. "You understand I am not telling you not to be afraid of us. You should be. Everyone in this city is. And to most people, we're it, we’re the top of the food chain. We are the superpredator. There, now I'm mixing metaphors too. But for people like you, Mr. Brogue, there’s another danger here. One you might actually want to rank above us on the don't-fuck-with list." "Are you kidding? Who the hell's supposed to be--" Sharply: "That'll do for the moment, Cesare, thank you." "What's the danger?" asked Terrian. "The police?" "Excuse me? Didn't I just tell you who provides the security? The police force in Winstone is a joke. Top dog's an idiot who's too focused on pushing his little Final Solution vendetta against Powers to bother with us common criminals." The Don tutted. "Course, his pack isn't even good at dealing with Power interference anyway so that should be all you need to know about them." "Then who are you talking about?" "Put it this way," said Don Massimo. "You're a man with a secret. Secrets have a way of getting around on these streets." Terrian found quickly that he had no idea how to react to this. "Oh! Really?" and "Man, wish I'd known that!" seemed inappropriate. He gazed around the room and caught Cesare in the act of rolling his eyes, although maybe Cesare had rolled his eyes up and just left them there until he was sure everyone'd gotten a look. Nico's reaction was harder to read. His brow furrowed, but not, by the look of him, in either befuddlement or animosity. His lips parted very, very faintly. He didn't say anything. "Now, your secret's been leaked already. You should consider yourself very, very lucky it went straight to me. Because I'm not interested in passing it around. Didn't think it'd be worth the profit to have anyone else going after you. But if I were a foolish man, easily taken in by short-term returns, then I don't hesitate to say your situation would quickly become far more complicated than it is. You can go ahead and thank me right now if you'd like. Or later, I'm not hurt." "Thank you, Don Giarrettiera," Terrian murmured. The short man smiled again. "You're very welcome, Mr. Brogue." Terrian needed to keep better track of when Massimo wasn't smiling so he'd know when to expect the grin to reappear. "Now, as for--" The door burst open. The mobsters lifted their guns automatically, but the visitor who hurled himself into the study was evidently a member of the family, a tall, bearded man perhaps around Cesare's age. "Don Massimo!" he bellowed. There was no convincing this man he'd barged in on an important business meeting. "We got trouble in the dining hall!" "What is it?" Massimo and Cesare asked simultaneously but at different volumes. "Some motherfuckers brought guns to lunch. They're robbin' the customers. One of 'em's got this fucked-up mask on. He's fuckin' magic or somethin'!" "Ferdinando, is anyone dead?" the Don asked calmly. "Don't think so," said the bearded mobster named Ferdinando. "Not yet." "Damn! Well." Massimo frowned. "We'll have to fix that, won't we?" He stood up out of his chair, motioning with one hand, but Cesare, Ferdinando and the surrounding mobsters were already clearing the room, raising an Italian uproar that might have been either antique battlecries or expressions of gratitude that they still had feeling in their knees. "Mr. Brogue, Ms. Nepas... Jonas? Excuse us. Let's continue this discussion another day. You can rejoin your friend outside." With that and a bow, Massimo seized a revolver from out of one drawer of his desk and departed. Nico hung back only to ensure the three Powers exited the study into the hall (not that this would have affected Rie) before locking the door behind them and then pushing unceremoniously past Jonas' bulky frame to follow the rest of the mob. Terrian shared a slightly awkward look with Rie and Jonas. "Okay, moment of truth," he eventually said. "Are we following them or not?" OOC: Few more short posts to wrap up the scene. They do not need to be hulking monsters. You can take it easy.
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Post by ch00beh on Aug 8, 2010 22:14:25 GMT -5
"Follow them to the dining hall?" Rie asked. "Maybe. It's kind of a tough decision. They haven't paid me, nor offered me money for helping defend them. That's a downside. But I also don't want to piss off the most important man in this city by not helping him." Rie pulled her rifle from her back. With practiced ease, she pulled out the magazine to check the ammo, placed it back in, and switched off the safety. She shrugged. "If you just meant follow them to help them make money, then yes, follow them. Either way, I think I'm going to head toward the screaming this time around, whether you guys follow or not." OOC: Is this what you wanted? Tell me if I am wrong.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Aug 8, 2010 22:20:34 GMT -5
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Post by Hamuu on Aug 10, 2010 19:13:41 GMT -5
“We should go wid ‘em. Make sure none a da people in dere get hurt in da crossfire.” Jonas looked down then put his meaty hand on Terrian’s shoulder, “An if you wanna join dem Terrian, den I’m with ya and Rie. We need each uhder. Plus somebody gots ta help protect dese guys from Rie right?” Jonas chuckled as he smacked Terrian on the back heartily.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Aug 11, 2010 11:49:32 GMT -5
Terrian buckled under Jonas' clap and wheezed into laughter. "Yeah," he got out. "Thanks, guys."
They exited through the doors and hallways back into the lounge, where Rhys lingered at the far end, looking at the art display. "Hey, man," Terrian said, raising his voice just enough to have to cough some more. "Did the mob stampede through here? There's some kinda situation in the dining room and the big guy here wants to make sure no one gets hurt. Any chance we could get you to come be a hero with us?"
Catching Rie's glance, he added, "Okay okay, you can be an antihero, that is fine too."
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SV
Friendliest Member of ALL TIME
The Friendliest Member Of ALL TIME
Posts: 2,250
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Post by SV on Sept 7, 2010 1:14:19 GMT -5
Being startled, for Rhys, was mentally jarring rather than physically. It hit him like a tire through a puddle, disrupting the placidity of his mind and tossing his thoughts, fragmented, into a hundred different directions. When the small gang of armed mobsters sprinted through the lobby and past him, this is what happened to Rhys.
He did not flinch in surprise. He rarely flinched. He merely watched the group disappear down the hallway across the lobby, a look both dour and curious on his face.
He had the same look when Terrian, Rie, and Jonas caught back up with him by the displays, debriefing him quickly on what the situation was. After a moment's hesitation (not to mention an aura of disapproval at the prospect of aiding the mafia), he jerked his head toward the door. “They headed this way,” he said briskly as he turned to lead them in the direction the mobsters had taken off in.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Sept 8, 2010 22:55:14 GMT -5
"Hey, thanks, man," Terrian said to Rhys as they moved out of the lobby. "And listen, if we think the Giarrettieras are stupid or don't shower enough we'll part ways amiably, okay?" He grinned. He felt good. This kind of completely took Terrian by surprise. If someone had told him yesterday that he was going to be walking toward a potential gunfight and that he was actually going to be feeling cheerful about the prospect, Terrian would've had a few questions to raise on the matter. Maybe it was sheer relief at not having been shot down the second he'd walked into the Don's office. Massimo Giarrettiera clearly had Terrian's number but he was being eminently reasonable about the whole thing. Honestly, protection against whatever other wicked forces were out there in Winstone City had to be worth counting himself as an employee of the Mafia. Terrian, after all, hardly needed Massimo to remind him he was sitting on a pretty volatile secret. As he followed Rhys back down the long hallway leading out of the lounge, with Rie and Jonas behind, he realized he was almost speeding into a jog. He was excited. He was ready to defend the beautiful and luxuriant Hotel Ansonia from whatever vicious thugs had assaulted it. But they weren't running, and that gave Terrian a minute before they'd reach the dining room. He decided to catch up on things with Alpha. hey sorry. what friend? intent good?Terrian bit his lip and waited for an answer. alpha respond please.He frowned. Nothing. Alpha, what's up? Talk to me. Who's the friend?Terrian was dropping behind. Rie unceremoniously pushed through his right side and passed him. Jonas squeezed around him as well. Terrian rubbed his temple. The others hadn't looked back. They'd reached the end of the hallway. Alpha?ISHKABIBBLE
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