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Perfect Glitch

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                                                      MOOD Chillxxxxx LOCATION Holding cells, Ocello Mansionxxxxx COMPANY Carmine | Luciano | Pascal
                                                      OOC null


                                                        xxxDays like this made him want to just drive away – pay someone to take his identity and cover for his job; pack all his things; and leave Albion. Yet despite of all people and the risks, he doesn’t back down from what he had started. He couldn’t blame his poor timing, or his punctuality as he calls it. He couldn’t blame Carmine for being here either. This game was about to have the tables turned again, not if he dodged the statement:
                                                        xxx“Yes, hello. You pay me to manage your weapons; all of them from the manufacturing to the delivery. And I’m here to personally give you the ledger – I'm sorry for not trusting the grunts doing their grunt work. The last time I sent you the records through courier, your hoodlums were poking their noses around the warehouse. I can’t work when there’s someone asking questions, you know. I guess I took after my father. A pity you don’t see me like how your father saw mine.”
                                                        xxxThis had brought up a sour taste in Beau’s mouth. Back then, his father worked closely with the boss – Carmine’s dad. He was business-minded, striking deals here and there; and possibly helped a lot with the Ocellos’s rise to power in terms of finances. They had a casino project, whorehouses, and even more if only his father didn’t ******** up at the last minute. Beau would probably be in Carmine’s inner circle right now. But still, like his father, he's getting himself in hot water too.

                                                        xxx“I hope you like what you see. Also, as requested the deal with the Irish gang has been cut. Their machines will be imported soon. Here are the records, sir,” he said while taking out a sample Glock 19 and surrendered the monthly ledger.
                                                        xxx“Luciano,” Beau said with a nod to greet the other man and quickly turned back to Carmine. He was scratching his head again, about to retort.
                                                        xxxBeau: “But… Alright, boss. I’ll free up my afternoon to contact the Russian dogs.”
                                                        xxxHe forced a smile. Beau couldn’t really do anything about this, could he? However, he lingered there, waiting for an opportunity to give Roland’s message to Pascal. “Would you mind me talking to the little runt?”

                                                      Englishxxxxx Italian
c a f e bean's avatar

Dapper Codger

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                                        But of course Niccolo’s deepest hopes would be ignored by the ultra-caring universe. Of course some a** backwards age-old maniacal karma bus would come and hit him while he slept, knocking whatever hope he had for good dreams waaayyy off the mental highway. He fell asleep peacefully and deeply, starting out with no dreams at all, just blackness and silence. Nothing but good ol’ calm and peace, until the backhand of a lifetime started to form in his subconscious. What could have been a pleasant enough dream started to form in his brain, the gentle light of morning bouncing around in the bedroom, blankets all around him, an overall feeling of comfort taking hold of him. This was how he normally woke up (if allowed to do so on his own time), so naturally Niccolo thought “Oh, I must have slept through the night like a rock! It’s already morning and I didn’t have any nightmares! How wonderful!” He rolled onto his side, but found that he could only move a short distance before he was stopped by something. Confused, he looked down, relaxing when he found an arm draped around his abdomen. Yes, that’s right. Domani was the last person he saw before he fell asleep. He must have climbed into bed with him! Hints of a smile formed on Niccolo’s lips and he turned just as far as he could, shaking Domani’s arm gently so that he could wake him up. The man next to him stirred, but it wasn’t the ‘okay, I’ll get up’ kind of stirring. It was the ‘dead weight’ kind of stirring.

                                        Niccolo chuckled, thinking that Domani must be a very heavy sleeper, then shook his arm a little harder. This time, Domani rolled and Niccolo was able to turn around fully. Prepared to give him a pinch to wake him up, Niccolo sighed and sat up, but when he got a full look at Domani he froze. He was covered in blood. There were deep cuts on either side of his face, multiple ragged gashes all up and down his arms and torso, and one long slash across his neck. Domani was dead. Violently murdered. Niccolo started to hyperventilate, pushing himself out of bed as quickly as he could, backing into the wall on the far side of the room. This wasn’t happening! This couldn’t be happening! Full panic mode set in and he sunk to the floor, tears streaming down as he buried his face in his hands. The Russians, they must have found a way into the Ocello mansion and killed him last night! But if they had come into the room and killed him, then why didn’t they kill Niccolo as well?! Niccolo looked up, desperate for answers, wanting to do something, and at once his eyes grew as round as saucers and his jaw dropped open. Written on Domani’s side, in thick, vile letters, was Niccolo’s name. Oh God, oh God, oh—

                                        He was suddenly sitting pin-straight in bed, breathing heavily, hands gripping tightly onto the blankets around him. s**t. Okay, everything was okay. It was only a dream. It was still night time, it had probably only been about an hour since he had drifted off to sleep the first time, and nothing could have happened. It was all just one big twisted dream, and it was not real. Niccolo repeated that to himself about three hundred times as he sat there, trying to regain a solid concept of reality, still attempting to shake himself from sleep. He probably could have repeated it three thousand times, and who really knows how long he was sitting there, but before he could make it to four hundred he felt something wrap around his bare waist. Niccolo jumped at first, not yet completely convinced that the house wasn’t being taken over by the Shaprio family, but he mellowed out when he realized that the warmth that suddenly engulfed him was much too comforting to be a bad guy. Niccolo took a deep breath, exhaling slowly so that his heart rate would calm down as well, and he allowed Domani to move him as he pleased. It was strange, how one moment you could be in hysterics and when someone holds onto you it all just… goes away. However strange it may be, Niccolo was extremely grateful at this point. He pressed back against Domani, pulling the blankets up a little higher to cover his shoulder, and soon enough he was asleep again. The comfort created from the contact was more than enough to keep him nightmare-free for the remainder of the night, and even created some enjoyable images for him to hold onto.

                                        Though even with the positive change, morning still came too soon. Niccolo moaned sleepily when he was nudged, the sound coming very soft and airy, almost like a ‘humph’. He buried his face into Domani’s neck, shaking his head in protest against waking up, but after a moment or two he pulled back, resting his head against Domani’s shoulder again. He breathed in through his nose, bringing a hand to his eyes to wipe away the sleep and cover a yawn. It took him a moment to realize where he was and that the scent that he inhaled wasn’t the one of his own bed, and he blinked, pushing himself up onto his elbow and looking around, his eyes going from Domani’s arm, to his shoulder, his neck, then to his face. Well, that was a little embarrassing. The slightest hint of pink danced across his cheeks and he ran a hand through his hair, which was still messy from his extreme activity last night, muttering a quiet “Scusa…”


Ocello Mansion / Domani's room. wwwwwWell... >////> wwwwwDomani.
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                                              Pascal hadn't really expected an answer to his question. If he was asked the same thing, he probably would't have answered. In fact he probably would've directed the conversation. Just like he was sure The Boss would do...In about 3, 2.....1.

                                              "Carmin Ocello"

                                              Oh well. He wasn't expecting a name. He was actually certain that Carmine would like to be called 'The Boss'. Oh well. This place was definitely full of surprises. Oh! This was CARMINE OCELLO. Wow. He had heard the stories, but dang. This guy was the son of their Don. Which meant he was next in line...interesting. Why was the son of the Don down here talking to a Shaprio prisoner...perhaps their father had asked him to play the 'Boss' role for prisoners? Pascal stared at the man, his eyes looking the other man over. He was attractive no doubt, and Pascal thought he pulled the long hair look off nicely. Pascal hadn't been lying the day before when he said that. Also he was talking to Pascal. What a bonus! He continued to listen, finding out that Domani was also part of the family, in the literal sense.

                                              Rough Hands came back, with what looked like a first aid. Awesome! They were going to dress his wounds. Which was a bit of a relief. The dried blood was starting to itch. Pascal turned his body and sat up slowly so the the man could fix him up properly. "Actually," Pascal began, wincing a bit as Rough Hands was true to his name, not being particularly careful with the injured lad. "We do know about you, We aren't uneducated. But of course we don't know what you loo- Hey watch it! Do you not see the carvings?" He grunted at Rough Hands again. He looked back at Carmine and smiled. "We don't know what you look like, because we never cared to know. Our father had told us not to worry about you guys. Really. So we didn't. Imagine my surprise when I found out that I was kidnapped by the Ocello's instead of some drug lord who wanted to sell me for my body. I'm sure the latter would be more flattering." He joked. He did that often. His mother had a saying, and it had sort of passed onto him. 'The focus is to forget the pain of life. Forget the pain, mock the pain, reduce it. And laugh.' So he did. He tried to reduce the pain by laughing or looking at it another way.

                                              "Aaaw, you bought him vodka? You must've be his favorite. Did you get his number? I would be surprised. Roland rarely goes out. He must've be in rare form, that he even bothered to talk to you." he laughed, wincing as Rough Hands finished, giving a final hard tug on the wrapping. "But like I said, we know you, we just don't care. Till now anyways. I care a little. I mean..." he was silenced as another good looking man walked through the door. Pascal sighed inwardly at his curse to only be kidnapped by good looking people. He gave the man a look and noticed the dropped jaw as he looked Pascal over. Pascal hadn't had a chance to look in a mirror recently, but after last night he was sure he looked disgusting. Hair matted, bruises, carvings, both on his face and chest. Pascal gave the man a bored look as he commented Carmine, before looking away. "Sdelayte fotografiyu , ona budet dlitʹsya dolʹshe." He said touching the cut on his face tentatively. Without his looks, Pascal was never going to laid, let alone get a boyfriend. Such is his life.

                                              Pascal only turned to look at the two men conversing when a third arrived. He recognized him from the previous day, though he was quiet one. He wasn't on Pascals important list so he turned his attention to the floor. Fiddling the his jeans as he waited for whatever was coming to him. He was still a bit unsure what they wanted to do with him, while they wait for Roland's response. They could leave him here all day, guards on the other side of the door only checking up on him when needed. The boredom would literally kill him. So when the new man had asked if he could chat with Pascal, he nearly jumped form his position on the couch. "YES!" He leaned forwards staring at Carmine like an eager puppy, but backed off a couple moments later. "I-I mean...Sending one of your...uh...Arms guys out to see Roland? I mean...when do we never not shoot the messenger? Hmm? Then you'll just be one man weaker." He grinned at Carmine meeting his eyes, his fingers dancing nervously across his thigh. "But if you really don't like him, and want him somewhat alive, I don't see a better punishment then leaving him with a chatty prisoner? But of course, you're Fathers house, your rules, right?"

                                              [ location || Kidnappers Room/ Le Dungeon ] xxxxxxx [ company || Carmine, Luciano, and Beau...Oh and Rough hands. ]
                                              [ ooc || Translation: Take a picture, it'll last longer. ]

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Corpius's avatar

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░░▌┋ THE OCELLO BOSS
TRY NOT TO MISTAKE WHAT YOU HAVE WITH WHAT YOU HATE
xxxxIT COULD LEAVE, IT COULD LEAVE, COME THE MORNING


xxxxxxxxxxxxxarmine x.x cello
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                                                        AND IF THE SUN SHOULD LIFT ME UP
                                                        WOULD YOU COME BACK? C'MON!





                                                    Carmine’s mouth twisted into a frown as the other responded with equal sarcasm, more bitter than anything. Of course he knew why Beau was at the house- what he had wanted to know was why he hadn’t waited upstairs as he was expected to, and why he had come uninvited into the basement holding room. If the boss was busy, as he clearly was, then he should have waited until Carmine had free time to see him. What had been mild irritation was slowly turning into an ill temper with the other man.

                                                    He turned and approached the other Italian, as if planning to get right up in his face with his growing anger. “Yes, and there’s several good reasons why you aren’t to me what your father was to mine. First of them being your current tone of voice, and second that you should be waiting upstairs, outside my office, not interrupting me without permission-

                                                    He stopped speaking rather abruptly, and took a jerking, unconscious step back, because Beau had pulled out a gun. He wasn’t holding it threateningly, or pointing it at anyone, and he had the ledger he’d mentioned too, but all Carmine could see was the gun. It wasn’t exactly fear that caused the feeling like ice in the pit of his stomach. It was simply revulsion, and with is a growing physical nausea that the weapon was just a foot away from him, offered out like Beau expected him to take it. No one in the Ocello household just handed Camine anything, except for a few very special people, and the fact that Beau was just ignoring this well known fact, and trying to hand him a gun of all things, was the final straw.

                                                    He dragged his disgusted gaze off the glock 19, not even having heard what Beau had said about the Irish, taking another step backwards as he looked to Luciano instead. “Take it from him, please.” There was a feel of unspoken before I break his nose to his order, teeth gritted and a muscle in his jaw jumping as he spoke. Carmine wanted nothing more than to turn away, or better yet, just leave the room, but he was far too controlled for that. Goddamn guns, and goddamn Beau too.

                                                    But… Alright, boss. I’ll free up my afternoon to contact the Russian dogs.” No s**t he would. Carmine hoped that was that, and was rather considering sticking a “stab me” sign to the Beau’s back, in hope Roland would do so. But then Beau switched to English. "Would you mind me talking to the little runt?” In the silence that followed, one could probably swear there was a faint snapping noise.

                                                    Carmine glanced at Pascal briefly, and scoffed. “Excuse me. Do you two know each other? No?” The incredulous smile on his face was deadly. “Then I see absolutely no reason why you should even be breathing the same air as him, let alone speaking to him. Are you stupid? Or have you gotten a big head because my father is in Italy?” Carmine’s cool was completely gone, each word a little sharper than the last as he stepped closer to Beau, a hand coming up to grip his shoulder.

                                                    Let’s get something clear here; you will not ‘free up’ your afternoon, like you’re doing me a favor. If I tell you to do something, you will do it silently and immediately. If I tell you to lick my shoes, you will drop everything and you will thank me when you’re done. If I tell you to put a gun to your head and pull the trigger, you will do so without question. And if you won’t...then you had ******** get out of this house before I do it for you.[/u]” His grip tightened as he spoke, passing the level of slight discomfort into what definitely had to be definite pain for the other man, though Carmine was barely exerting any physical effort. "Do you ******** understand me? I will be the don of this family before I turn thirty-- I will kill anyone who isn’t explicitly loyal to my every word, and you have done nothing but disobey me since you set foot in this room.” The level of his voice had reached a snarl at this point, breaking back into English.

                                                    He let go abruptly, as if the idea of touching Beau any longer bothered him, and brushed his hand off on his pants. “I suggest you get moving, and I suggest the only words you speak to me be “yes sir”. No, you may not speak to the prisoner; as far as I’m concerned you have nothing to say to him. If you want to do anything for him, then you will get message to his family, and perhaps we can end this ordeal before I order you to deliver one of his hands next. Now get out.

                                                    Yes, Carmine was absolutely livid. Being in the presence of guns had a tendency to do that to him, though this little display of anger might have seemed a little over the top to anyone watching. Then again, most of the Ocello family knew just how short his temper was, especially those who’d known him as a child, and knew to steer clear of it. Either Beau had conveniently forgotten, or he’d felt there was no other option. Of course, Carmine wouldn’t be around all day. If he wanted a chance to speak to Pascal, he’d have a better chance sneaking back later.

                                                    As for Pascal....Carmine’s scathing gaze turned on him a second later, because he hadn’t missed the boy’s hopeful words. Were they all ******** serious? “If you want someone to talk to, I’m sure Domani is awake by now and I’m not sure if I feel like telling him to take it easy today. You think your brother would be happy to receive one of your eyes today? Or you tongue? No? Then shut. Up.



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                    ------------------------------------------
                      If there was one thing about fedoras that was true, it was the fact that they made everyone who wore them look like assholes—unless that someone who wore them was Indiana Jones. Did the hat make someone an a*****e? Or do assholes only wear fedoras. Whichever it was, it was evident that there was a relationship between wearing fedoras and assholeness, judging from Beau’s behaviour. Beau was quite the character. Parading around like he was the king of the court and giving Carmine despicable attitude as if he was the don himself. Luciano never thought much of Beau, since he was the one stealing, a very low and disgusting act, from the Ocellos, until now. Watching him interact with Carmine...he was dirt. Real, real dirt.

                      It was true that Luciano worked for and showed respect to everyone in the Ocello ‘family’ out of fear. And it was true that he disliked the Ocellos for tarnishing firearms and treating them like they were nothing but tools and weapons. But setting all of that aside, he absolutely despised people who were egotistical and boorish like Beau. Stealing wares and giving this s**t to Carmine—okay, maybe not ‘s**t’ but it was still unacceptable. Carmine was the don and was a nice human being, even though he stole guns, and he did not deserve to be talked to like that. Luciano found it harder and harder to keep his composer. At one point, he wanted to tackle Beau and sock him in the face. Luciano was also starting to dislike the prisoner. He just talked a lot. After yesterday’s ordeal, you would assume that he would be too uber taxed to do anything, but nope! Blabbity blah blah blah. Pascal would be a useless hostage if he wasn’t the Shaprio boss’s brother.

                      Luciano saw Beau starting to pull out the gun and ledger and Carmine jerk back. In response, Luciano reached for his own gun that he kept in his jacket, but stopped as soon as the other man mentioned the records. He froze in the middle of his movements and it took him a few moments to recollect what the hell was going on. Two second ago, Carmine was fine, but now it looked like he was nervous or something. It was reasonable to be careful around guns, but Carmine should’ve been used to seeing guns. His family dealt out guns for a living. It was strange. When the don requested that the bodyguard take the gun, he nodded and said, “Yes, sir.” Quickly, he walked over and stood in between the other two Italians. Luciano was a man who hid his contempt well, but since it was an off day, he allowed it to show. He glared daggers at Beau as he wrapped his hand around the barrel of the Glock 19 that was being held out and pulled it away from Beau’s hand. “Learn how to hold a gun,” he murmured as he did so. He was taught that whenever a gun wasn’t in use, it was to be held by the barrel with the barrel facing down. With the other hand, he took the ledger.

                      Carmine was getting perturbed. Not wanting to get in the way, Luciano quickly stepped away. He fidgeted the ledger around so that he could hold it under his arm. He glanced down at the Glock 19 in his hands and began to open to cartridge to see if there were any bullets inside, and if there were, to take them out. If the Ocellos were dealing these, they should make a nice profit. The Austrian semi-automatic was a fast and efficient gun. Luciano knew guns well enough to be able to take out bullets from them practically in his sleep, but at that moment, he took his time just to stall. He would occasionally glance up at Pascal, Carmine, and Beau. He placed the bullets that he took out into the pocket of his jacket.

                          - Italian
                          - English

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                                              A smile smile spread across Domani's lips at Niccolo's soft protest to waking up. Dom always had a soft spot for Nic but that spot grew once Nic wiggled his face into Domani's neck. Dom had to resist pulling him and and laying there for the rest of the day. Eh its not like they had much to do today anyway. Plus they could both use a break and this was a peaceful way to enjoy the day. Nah if he didn't get up he knew that nothing would get done today. Domani nudged Niccolo again this time causing him to move back a little, landing back on Dom's shoulder. He watched as Niccolo slowly woke up and observed his surroundings. A small chuckle escaped Domani's mouth at the shade of pink that was spreading across Nic's body. “Buon sonno?" Niccolo was already pretty cute but a sleepy, blushing Niccolo was a bit much. It was like an overdose of attraente. Definitely over the daily dose of attractiveness. Dom's voice was still deeper than normal but he knew with time he'd fully wake up. Without warning Domani's alarm clock went off triggering his radio to turn on.

                                              Domani stretched, letting out a rather loud yawn, and threw the blanket off his body. He laughed a bit when he figured out what song was making its way through his speakers. Jason Mraz's smooth voice was perfectly singing every single note in I'm Yours. Probably the most ironic song of the moment but Dom tried to ignore it. He sat up, bringing his shoulders in until his back cracked, and looked over at Niccolo. “Ora di iniziare la giornata." Domani said as he made his way out of bed. He walked into the bathroom and made his way to the sink. Domani brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his hair until he got every strand back in place. Satisfied with his hair he walked back into his room and yanked some clothes out of the closet and placed them on. “We should probably see whats for breakfast." Domani could feel his stomach practically press against his spine. He was starving, with everything that went on yesterday he forgot to eat anything. And he'd probably need something on his stomach with everything going on today.

                                              Today was the second day they've had their little prisoner and if he knew his brother at all, they'd make some type of connection with the Russians. If Domani had any say in the matter he'd just keep kidnapping members until Pascal's older brother, Rowland or Ralland (For the life on his Dom coudln't remember his name) finally found out. Or maybe he could just go in and kill them all, but that probably wouldn't be as much fun.



                                              Out Of Control:
                                              Translate: "Sleep good?" "Time to start the day."
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                                        ”Buon sonno?”

                                        It took Niccolo a moment to comprehend what was being asked of him, and even after that amount of time had passed, he still remained silent. He was thinking, like he normally did anyways, but these thoughts were very pleasant ones this time around. First he remembered waking up in the middle of the night because of his freakish nightmare, but no terrible images plagued him after that. He couldn’t exactly remember his good dreams, other than a few fleeting images, but he remembered the good feeling that made the rest of the night so much more bearable. Thanks to Domani, of course. Maybe the punishment that Niccolo has received last night was worth it, then. Niccolo finally nodded silently, sitting up all the way and stretching his arms above his head, turning and tilting his head from side to side until his neck popped. He turned his torso a bit so that he could pop his back as well, but he ended up flinching and making a soft grunt of discomfort, feeling the physical side effects of Domani’s punch. His abdomen was still pretty darn sore and sporting an impressive bruise, but hey, that was the purpose behind it anyways; to teach Niccolo a lasting lesson. At least it hadn’t been a stab wound or something, Lord knows Niccolo deserved it for disobeying Domani. Today he would have to try again, he assumed, and today he would have to follow every order that was given to him, or else his punishment would be much, much worse. It made him slightly nervous, to be honest.

                                        The radio suddenly coming on surprised Niccolo, but the song choice seemed… somehow fitting, oddly enough. Both the tempo and the actual lyrics. Not that Niccolo thought of Domani in that sense or anything, no way. Niccolo doesn’t have emotions besides fear and do-not-want, remember? As Domani started to get out of bed, Niccolo shifted so that his feet hung off the side of the bed, and he looked down at his jeans. Yeah, he definitely should shower and change before he did anything today. He didn’t want to be wandering around with the Russian’s blood stains on his pants, and the anxiety of the day before still on his skin. Being clean was one of Niccolo’s favorite things and if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be able to focus most of the day. Sliding off of the bed and standing up, he looked around the room to find the clothing that he had taken off last night, putting his boots together neatly and folding his sweater. He would probably have to go to his own room to grab clothes and then use the shower down the hall, considering Domani’s bathroom was like a freaking high class chapel, but Niccolo didn’t have a problem with that at all. He just wanted to be rid of the evidence of what he did yesterday. When Domani came out of the Holy Restroom mentioning something about breakfast, Niccolo shifted from one foot to the other, scratching at the side of his head and clearing his throat.

                                        “May I clean up?”

                                        It was just better and easier to ask for permission to do things, he decided. Niccolo gestured to his bare torso, then his jeans and the blood-matted sweater that now sat on top of his boots. He wanted to go down to breakfast with Domani, but getting presentable was kind of his morning priority. Niccolo would even be grateful for just a second to run to his room and grab a new shirt, since he didn’t want to go around showing off this painful bruise, and he definitely didn’t want to put the bloodied sweater on again.


Ocello Mansion / Domani's room. wwwwwA shower would be nice. wwwwwDomani.
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Corpius's avatar

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                                          Misha had to dodge out of the way as Roland suddenly left Park’s room, jumping away from the door and nodding goodbye to the boss as he disappeared down the hall. He hadn’t overheard anything of real interest, or really anything that had warranted him being told to leave, unless Roland just hadn’t wanted Misha to see his passwords. Not that Misha would have had any idea what to do with them if he had them, so what did that matter? “Laptop.” He presented Park with the box, then plopped down on the bed, as if he owned the place.

                                          “Does this mean I can’t watch you work....?” He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. He probably couldn’t even tell you what encrypting something meant, but he didn’t want Park getting in trouble for having Misha look over his shoulder. “And if this means you’re busy for later, then I understand...”

                                          Misha had a feeling that if Roland found out that he’d interfered with Park’s important work, he’d probably be...encased in cement, or whatever it was they did with people. And if he did have to leave, he’d just have to settle with pacing restlessly in his room until Limbo opened and he had somewhere else to go. Maybe he’d sleep. Or maybe...

                                          Hadn’t the guard said someone new had arrived last night? Who? Someone from Russia? Had they stayed? Rolling over onto his stomach, Misha sighed, realizing he was starting to get a headache. “I think I should just leave you alone to work...”
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「 with ♛ Misha <3xxxxx 「 where ♛ My humble abode!
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just thinking some thoughts ya

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                                                "Heyyyy." Park cooed happily when Misha came back holding a laptop that he assumed was the one that he needed to do work on, but he temporarily put it to the side. It was rude to immediately start working, and he had all day. Despite how he enjoyed doing work at night more, he would be busy with dancing with his new curly-haired eye candy, and getting progressively s**t-face-d-er as 'way too late' turned into 'way too early'. Wasn't that what you did at nightclubs? For all he knew, they could be golfing.

                                                Misha hopped on the bed next to him and laid down, and it brought a half-smirk to his face, one corner of his lips turning upwards lightly as his eyelids lowered in a relaxed position. "You can watch me work if you want. But it won't be very fun." He said, eventually laying down next to Misha, although differently -- Misha was laying on his stomach and only a bit to the side in a childish manner, and Park had flopped down on his back with his hands clasped behind his head, his elbows bent behind him in close radius to Misha, but he had moved up on the bed so that Misha was head-level with his chest, and Park's elbows wouldn't get in his way. He kept his smirk on and it only grew when Misha started doubting his availability. "I'm not busy for later. This stuff takes, like, less than half an hour. Relax.~" He kept his eyes on the ceiling and bit his lip softly, showing that although he wasn't submissive he was a rather shy person around strangers and didn't know how to act in order to be up to par with the level of cuteness that Misha was emitting. Park just felt awkward. And insecure.

                                                He honestly didn't want Misha to leave any time soon. He enjoyed the sound of someone talking other than him in his room. His room! No one ever went in here! His happiness would usually trigger him to speak in some foreign language of his choosing, most likely Korean or Japanese, although it was only another thing he felt insecure about. Everyone here spoke Russian, but him. He spoke only enough to ask where the bathroom was, give directions to 2nd street, and say "My name is fat" in Russian, and his experience in other languages didn't come to any use here.

                                                "I think I should just leave you alone to-"

                                                "Ugh. Dude. Shut your face." Park teased, interrupting Misha as he propped himself to one side with an elbow and used his free hand to gently grab the back of the boy's neck and pull his lips into his own, hopefully successfully shutting him up enough to get the message across that he just didn't want him to go away, although when he finally pulled away he could evidently see the signs of something being wrong with Misha. "B'awh. You're sick, a little bit. Your head's hurting, right? In that case, you should get some rest. And tea. He was evidently let down because of it, but he wasn't going to let his personal wishes interfere with Misha's health and/or happiness.


                                                'cause everything is never as it seems
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material witness's avatar

Perfect Glitch

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                                                      MOOD Chillxxxxx LOCATION Holding cells, Ocello Mansionxxxxx COMPANY Carmine | Luciano | Pascal
                                                      OOC I’m sorry for the hold up, guys. I just killed my pet hamster out of spite for my ex-boyfriend. Yes, I was falling out of a relationship, so please bear with me if I get too sensitive.
                                                      Speaking of ‘sensitive,’ here’s some trivia:
                                                      1. godmodding tickles my backside like a mother-.
                                                      2. Beau grew up with a family background that dealt with guns. (It’s not really trivia since it’s in his bio.)
                                                      3. If anybody decides to control my character again in the future without permission, I will ignore him/her/it/them while we all move on.
                                                      4. Bear with me being sensitive. I am still recovering from a recent domestic turmoil which involved a pet hamster, a faulty cage, and the slight suggestive intention of vengeance.
                                                      5. ^Not to mention the hamster used to belong to my now-ex-boyfriend.
                                                      6. Yeah, I just fell out of a relationship and I’m telling the whole interwebz about it… How tacky.
                                                      7. SUCK ON THIS OVERDUE POST mlm


                                                        xxxSomehow, the blood within Beau’s system started to boil. At the moment, he was already grasping the true risks in line with his work – if not, being slapped across the face with it. To boot, he was being corrected as to la forma correcta of holding a gun. Didn’t Luciano know Beau dealt with the production and market of guns and knives? Which meant; from assembling to polishing, brandishing and holstering; the traitor was adequately knowledgeable. A tight fist by his side was the only anchor he was holding on before he tipped over. Beau took a moment to regain his bearings though; by simply nodding while Carmine explained the do’s-and-don’t's of his well-endowed empire. He slipped his hand back inside the messenger bag, produced a magazine that would fit the previous gun and raised it to Carmine’s face with his eyes narrowing before passing it to Luciano with a hard shove. “Yes, sir.”

                                                        xxxHe only responded again once with a raised brow, but as the words came out, they flowed right as perfectly as how he always did; deftly playing with words and semantics:
                                                        xxx“Honestly, boss, I don’t really care about our history despite what I’ve said earlier. My intention was to personally update you on how your weapons are doing and to show you how I take my job in civil terms. As I’ve said, YES, I work for you. All my days are already marked to do the things you pay me to do, but I’m sorry if you misunderstood what I just said. ‘Freeing up my afternoon’ is only as literal as it can get. My schedule has always been dedicated to managing your wares…” He paused to look down, biting his lip. A thousand words came to him. All of them were tickets to slipping past Beau’s cornered situation, but one trick got him curious with a wishful thought of it working on a man such as Carmine. As he raised his head, so did a pair of rosy cheeks, and an honest-to-death-I-swear-to-God smile lingered on his face. “But if you do ask me a favour, I would feel more than privileged to be that useful to you… … Your message will be sent promptly. I am so sorry, sir, if I have implicated things. And next time I’ll be informing you of my visits in advance, if that is also what you want,” he said while backing away.

                                                        xxxAs he had established the distance, he was able to look at the underground room as a whole. Beau opened his mouth, about to make another appeal for Pascal, but he abandoned the thought, remembering what they had just discussed. He simply spared a glance at the prisoner, then to Carmine with a smile and a polite nod before leaving. “Thank you and goodbye, sir.”


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II Blow Meh II's avatar

Militant Gekko

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                                              Domani looked at Niccolo with a blank face. He blinked twice and tilted his head to the left. “You slept in my bed last night and didn't clean yourself first?" Domani shrugged. It wasn't like he gave him any time to do so the night before. “Feel free. I'll give you a one time opportunity to use my bathroom. Just make sure you keep it clean." Domani said throwing his hand back as he walked out of the room. Domani decided to take the normal hallway for once and made his way into the kitchen. The smell of eggs, bacon, brioche and biscotti, fresh ground coffee, and even some bomboloni. Domani's mouth was watering. He was in paradise but was quickly snatched out as he looked around.

                                              The chiefs were still cooking. Domani groaned and resisted punching a hole in the wall. "The food will be ready shortly Mr. Ocello. We we're running a bit short staffed and got started a little too la-." b]“I don't want to hear excuses...Basta terminare la cottura." Domani walked out of the kitchen knocking over a bowl of eggs. He was a bit pissed. Dom never liked waiting for things and hated when he wanted something and couldn't get it. To be so tempted with such good food and not being able to eat anything ugh! He had nothing to do to pass the time so he decided to check on Pascal again. He had a full night to recuperate so he should be alright for another round. Domani laughed a bit, at least he'd have something fun to do to spend time to make it to breakfast.

                                              He leaned into one of the walls and grabbed the hidden doorknob. Making his way down the dimly lit side hallway, taking the least amount of time possible to get to the holding room. Coming out of a small stone door, Dom came out just in time to hear his big brother use his name as a threat. He walked slowly, silencing his paced. He didn't want to be seen or heard before he made his way to the door. By the time he got to the entrance his eyes widened before narrowing into a dull stair. He quickly reached into his leg holster and pulled out his pistol. His finger rubbed against the engraving on his father's old Umarex Colt Defender. The barrel aimed at Beau's lower back. His heart was beating faster than normal. It was never easy watching someone aim a gun at his brother. Killing his family will never go well. Domani relaxed a bit when he saw the man give to gun to Luciano. Domani lowered his gun, still standing in the door way. He said nothing as he watched Beau walked past him. He walked into the room, locking eyes with Carmine. “Che cosa sta succedendo qui."


                                              Out Of Control:
                                              Translate: "Just finish cooking." "What's going on in here?"
TRAFFKLIGHT's avatar

Anxious Gawker

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» { who: the right hand traffklight { where: the dining room traffklight { with: himself

TRAFFKLIGHT TRAFFKLIGHT TRAFFK LET THE GAMES BEGIN !!
                                        Hahaha. Lightweights.

                                        When they returned home that night Kolya didn't go to sleep. At least not right away. He didn't really need sleep. Yes he was tired but it was bearable, sleep would probably have been difficult to succumb to with the mindset he was in anyways. Work. Thats what needed to be done. He followed his instructions in reporting to HQ that he had arrived safely, also making note that Roland had "everything under control". And he had yet to see Pascal. It didn't take a brilliant mind to put together that there was a bit of chaos in the Shaprio branch and Kolya figured it would be safest to not mention it. The entire household would probably appreciate that, Roland especially.

                                        He couldn't let himself go to bed after that though. If Roland wasn't going to tell him anything, he'd have to figure it all out himself.

                                        He unpacked his minimal belongings, suits, dress shirts, and fitted pants, his coat and a couple scarves. Fashion wasn't exactly part of the mafia repertoire but the Russian seemed to make up for that with his vogue-esque hair style. But he didn't care about the state of his appearance all that much at the moment. He was busy trying to decide whether the men at the bar were the Ocellos or not. Too much of a coincidence? Possibly. Unlike Russia, foreigners were quite abundant in America so they could have very well just been innocent citizens. But the way their dynamic was too... boss-subordinate/bodyguard to ignore.

                                        If they were in fact Ocellos... Kolya could only hope that they were of... lower ranks... or else he'd be embarrassed for Roland for being such a step behind.

                                        While Kolya had a hunch, it was no good making assumptions with little proof. He hadn't even been there a day and already pointing fingers at Italians and assuming they were mobsters? He had to trust Roland's instinct with that.

                                        --

                                        Kolya woke to the light knocking at his door which he beckoned the person to enter. Rubbing his eyes, he had slept for perhaps three hours, laptop on his lap while he sat upright in his bed, a pillow behind his back. "Good morning!" He smiled brightly at the servant who entered to check up on him. Walking in it looked like Kolya had been awake a while rather than having just woken up. "Good morning, did you sleep alright?" The Russian wasn't used to all this... hospitality. Was it just because he was a guest from Russia? Was it because he worked directly for the Don? It couldn't have been for his devilishly good looks of course. "Yes thank you." He closed his laptop and set it aside, slipping from the bed and giving a stretch.

                                        "Is everybody awake already?"

                                        "Yes, well, Roland is heading out shortly for a meeting and will be back in a few hours."

                                        "Oh right right, with Sacha right?"

                                        The servant looked stunned, and Kolya didn't ignore it.

                                        "Did something happen? Roland hasn't filled me in on the current situation so is Pascal awake yet? I didn't have a chance to meet him last night either."

                                        Double whammy. It looked like Kolya was going to have to be filled in by somebody who wasn't exactly of high position, not that he minded. He was just sure Roland would mind but he promised the servant he wouldn't let Roland let out his anger on the man. Kolya was asking for it. Quite literally actually.

                                        He was though, just a little pissed off that Roland had decided to HIDE all this information rather than share it with his new subordinate. Did he think he could deal with the loss of his friend and partner as well as the unknown situation with Pascal on his own? Was the man an idiot? Lets just say the Russian wasn't too impressed by the man's decision making process... granted he probably had reasons to not share information but Kolya was going to find out eventually. It was probably a good thing he found out sooner compared to later. Roland needed to get his s**t together.

                                        After the little conversation with the servant Kolya readied himself for the day. It relaxed his fury slightly, not that anybody was there to see the lack of smile on his face. The shower, the towel, the razor, the product in his hair which he combed through out of his face. Toothbrush and toothpaste. His routine was like every morning, after the bathroom was the closet where he dressed himself in grey slacks, wrinkle free and ironed and a plain white dress shirt. His cuff links, tie, and belt were his only accessories. Then there were his shoes that shone like a soldiers - shiny enough to see your reflection in them.

                                        His next course was to head downstairs and have some breakfast. Have a meal, and wait for Roland. He didn't want to speak with anybody but Roland at this point. Unless of course somebody were to approach him first. We all know Kolya couldn't possibly be unfriendly.
c a f e bean's avatar

Dapper Codger

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                    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxA N D I M C A U G H T I N T H E C R O S S F I R E O F M Y O W N T H O U G H T S

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                                        There went Domani’s intimidation factor again. Whether or not he realized it entirely, Domani scared the piss out of Niccolo when he just sat there and stared at him like that. Niccolo bit the inside of his lip, watching Domani as Domani watched him, wondering what he was thinking. Obviously it wasn’t something of a malicious nature, considering Domani was relatively calm and his eyes showed no sign of anger. For a moment, a flash of annoyance could be detected, but nothing more than that. So he was safe for the time being. Yeah, thinking back on when he had been laying in pain on Domani’s mattress the night before, he probably should have gotten up and cleaned himself off before falling asleep, but he hadn’t had anything close to the required amount of energy to do so, let alone the motivation. Physically and emotionally exhausted, about to puke, and sleepy as ******** never came together to allow him much room to do a lot (though he had actually ever experienced those feelings at the same time before, which was a damn good thing). But of course Domani would be the one to make those sensations come together… Niccolo just hoped that he didn’t have to deal with it again tonight. He could go without being traumatized again, thank you very much. Niccolo’s eyes dropped to the ground when Domani called him out on not cleaning up before sleeping in his fancy-shmancy bed, and he shook his head, clearing his throat almost silently.

                                        “Scusa…”

                                        Niccolo’s eyes shot back up though, when he heard the next thing Domani said. He got to use the Holy Lavatory? Yay! He nodded, body language visibly changing from sad puppy dog to something resembling an excited schoolboy, voice practically a hum as Domani turned and walked out of the room.

                                        “Grazie, Domani.”

                                        This was a once in a lifetime opportunity! He hadn’t ever seen the inside of Domani’s bathroom before, and he doubted that anyone but the maid did either, so this was pretty dang neat. Niccolo took a quick glance around the room before unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down his legs, pulling the jean sleeves off and then folding the pants up just as nicely as the sweater. He then proceeded to do this with his socks as well. He put his clothes on the floor at the foot of Domani’s bed, going into the bathroom wearing only his boxers, the only article of clothing that he could be sure was blood-free. He opened the door slowly, taking in the view bit by bit, savoring the forbidden view for a minute or so before actually stepping in. He was being a bit silly about all of this, but come on, he kind of deserved a few moments of immaturity after what he had been through in the past week. His fingers ran over the marble on the walls, deeply admiring Domani’s obvious taste before his eyes found his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t really know how to feel about his reflection. His hair was a mess, his torso looked even more bruised in the mirror, and he seemed paler, but at the same time he didn’t have dark circles under his eyes and his face wasn’t as sunken as it had been the morning before. A good night’s sleep did a lot more than he thought, apparently. A smile spread over his full lips and he ran a hand through his already sloppy hair, scratching at his scalp. Yeah, it was time to get clean.

                                        Niccolo opened the shower door and turned the faucet on, adjusting the water temperature before dropping his underoos and getting in, then turning the shower heads on. Oh, it was heaven! Now Niccolo knew why Domani never shared his shower. This was way too nice for anyone else to be messing it up. Niccolo enjoyed the warm water for a few minutes before beginning to actually clean himself. He shampooed his hair and lathered up his body, taking special care to be gentle around his stomach, then washed all of the soap away. He normally put conditioner in his hair, but Niccolo couldn’t seem to find any, so he made a mental note to stop by his room later for that. He put a bit more soap on his hands and finished his shower routine by washing his face, stepping out once his hands and face were suds-free once more. He grabbed a towel and dried himself off, rubbing his head until no more drops fell from the longer strands of hair, draping the towel around his waist and turning to the mirror to see if his appearance had improved at all. He didn’t look as dirty, and his hair was certainly more orderly, but other than that not much had changed. He puckered his lips in disapproval, pushing his hair into place and turning right around again, going back into Domani’s room. Niccolo shivered a bit with the temperature drop, but the real issue was that his clothes were gone. He looked on all sides of the bed, checking by the door and the closet before noticing that the bed had been made neatly. Damn that maid! How the hell was he supposed to get back to his room to change in only a towel? He was multiple hallways and a foyer away from his own room, and he didn’t want to walk all of that in only a towel or his boxers. But what else could he do? He couldn’t raid Domani’s clothing, that was extremely disrespectful, but he didn’t want to wait in here until he came back. Who knew how long that would be? He was probably just getting done with breakfast right now! s**t.

                                        Okay, okay. It didn’t matter if he went around the mansion in only his towel, right? The place was full of guys, and guys went around shirtless all the time, he could just put it up a little higher to cover his bruise! It wasn’t a big deal! It was doable! Niccolo went back into the bathroom, grabbed his boxers, hiked his towel up as planned, and went to the bedroom door. His hand hesitated on the handle, though, and it took him at least thirty seconds and a very deep breath to continue in his path. He opened the door very quickly and shut it behind him in the same breath, moving as quickly as possible down the corridor, towards his own room, where he could find refuge from his forced public nudity.


Ocello Mansion / Domani's room / Hallway. wwwwwStupid ugly mean inconsiderate maid!! wwwwwFreakin' no one, hopefully!
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                                              Pascal kept his mouth quiet as he watched Carmine tore into man. Though he couldn't understand the Italian, but he watched the way Carmine walked up the the new man and gave him a stern...hand on the shoulder. Pascal could kinda tell that things weren't going for the New Face, but he wasn't sure either way. He did manage to catch the disgusted look that Carmine gave the gun in the mans hands, as well as the small movement of stepping away from it, as though it was the bane of his existence. It was...Interesting reaction to say the least. Especially from a son of a Don and a brother to that creep Domani., who seemed like the kind of man to love holding a gun. Feeling the power of someones life in their hands, able to end it by the pull of a trigger. It made Pascal silently wonder what was wrong with Carmine.

                                              Pascal had leaned back onto the couch, hiding his hands underneath him when he heard the threat of sending one of his hands to Roland. That...would not go well. At all. Mostly cause he would miss the heck out of his hand, but also Roland would probably set Albion on fire. That definitely would not go well. Moments after, Carmine turned back towards Pascal, and he actually saw that the Italian was more pissed then he thought. Pascal physically winced as Carmine spoke to him, his tone clearly upset and his words harsh. Using the threat of Domani as well as missing body parts was not something that Pascal wanted this morning. In fact, there was nothing else that'd he rather do right now then calm Carmine down, using any means necessary, just so he wouldn't call down Domani and have him go through another session.

                                              So instead of protesting, and making snarky comments, He closed his mouth and gave Carmine a look that screamed 'I'm-sorry-please-don't-be-mad-with-me'. It kind of resembled a puppy who had just been scolded for knocking over a trash can or chewing on your favorite sock. So he moved his body so that he was sitting length-wise on the couch, facing away from the door and everyone else. He hadn't looked at New Face since he asked if it was okay to stay. And though it was as though a minute had passed, he wondered why the man wanted to speak with him, let alone be in the same presence of the Russian. Didn't all Italians in this house hate him? Maybe he just wanted to give Pascal a new shiner, maybe to match the scar under his eye as well as his chest.

                                              He heard someone new enter the room and he turned his head to see who it was. ********. Domani. Awesome. He gave the Italian man a glare, before turning it onto Carmine to let him know he was upset, even though he wasn't deserving of the look. But iwasn't like he cared. Pascal was acting like a child and he didn't even care. It was way too ******** early for this s**t, and he wasn't happy to see Domani, though he was sure Carmine hadn't called him down here. He was probably itching to get his paws back into Pascal, more than likely wanting to cause more harm. Pascal let out a huff and turned away again, staring at the wall on the other side of the room and waited. Waited for the call from Carmine, since he was currently running this drama show. Pascal only hoped that Carmine would take pity and forgive him for not acting like a proper kidnapped person. He was still hoping for a room with a bed, and not this dark and damp dungeon.

                                              [ location || Kidnappers Room/ Le Dungeon ] xxxxxxx [ company || Carmine, Luciano, and Beau. And now Domani. ]
                                              [ ooc || GUYS PASCAL IS BORED! lol ]

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