[Other OPEN] Venice: Masks & Monsters [IC][M]

Dusty · Jan 11, 2016

Masks & Monsters

Introduction

Venice Masks & Monsters is a relaunch of a roleplay that ran here a couple of months back, but died because of inactivity. This version is slightly altered, but carries over a lot of the same stuff from the old version. All of it is included in here. With that comes some extra information, but it's all designed to be optional, and is not required reading. It's included in the post below this one.

Welcome

Venice is a city of mystique and intrigue. People say the city wears a mask. The mask itself is the beauty of the city, the art, the water, the amazing architecture, but underneath that water, and in those buildings, monster live. The city is filled with all kinds of horrors, roaming the streets, blending in with the masses. The city is filled with werewolves, vampires, sirens and demons, lurking between the citizens. Ghosts haunt the cathedrals, ghouls swamp through the cemeteries, and mermaids terrorize the bay.

Venice

Venice is controlled by rich families that control trade. Different families all control different markets, different parts of town, different people even, trying to control the economy of Venice. In this town, cash is king, or doge rather, and people will do everything for money. Gold pieces flow between families and their associates as they pay their debts and loans, and their liquidations and scaring techniques. The power struggle is eternal.

The politics play out in two different ways. Meetings will be held, disguised as masked balls, where family members settle their differences, and in the streets and canals, where people are liquidated, and fights take place. The one thing these things have in common is the masks. Masks are worn at night, to keep identities a secret. Murders and meetings are held with as little personal information as possible. The masks make it possible for the monsters to stand out at night, and blend in at day. Numbers of secret societies arise, where masked figures meet, discussing schemes, and executing them, without knowing anyone's identity. When interacting with supernatural beings, almost everyone wears a mask. The truth about who is human and who is more is hard to come by.

Families

As mentioned above, Venice functions on families. Families are what they imply to be, a group of people related by blood. A family is basically a business, led completely by people from the same bloodline, be it hereditary, or magical in nature. They employ other people to work with them, from private bankers to hitmen. Most of the times, these people are bound to a family, loyal to the people and the steady source of income they supply. Through the way Venetian families try to keep their power, even banks and shopkeepers try to align themselves. The benefits of security and protection are worth a lot in a city as ruthless as Venice.

Families as a roleplay mechanic are fairly simple. Every character will most likely be aligned with a family, or at least affiliated with one. Players can create these families themselves, and have control over them. It is heavily encouraged for multiple players to work with the same family, at which point they share control. When putting up a sign up, people aren't required to add a family to be accepted. You can just put up that you are with a family, and try to see if anyone wants to be in a family together afterwards.

The Arc system

This RP works with the Arc System. The RP is set up to be easily joinable, and you are not having to commit long term to the role play. The story will be divided into arcs. Every arc is meant to be a story that can stand on itself. Sign Up's will be closed while an arc is active, but when the end of an arc nears, they will open up again. Players will be able to join in the new arc, and a summary of information that is important to get in the story will be added. The end of an arc is a good place for people to leave the RP, join the RP, or retire your character and play as a new one.

The supernatural world/setting

The supernatural world in Venice: City of Masks is based on gothic literature, but taking influence from other cultures occultism is allowed too. The monsters in Venice are all of equal intellect as the humans, and can pass as humans. Blending in with the normal society is a big part of every supernatural beings life. The existence of the magic world is public knowledge, but they are mostly feared by the commoners. The Christian faith is very present in the city, and it shuns the magic world. Monsters aren't the only part of this occult world. Actual people can acquire magical abilities, or magically change themselves too. Magic is not something that is easily controllable however, and magical abilities manifest themselves mostly as specific abilities, instead of full control of the magic spectrum. Examples of this are pyrokinesis, teleportation, and transmutation. There are a lot of magical artifacts going around in Venice too, and they are highly sought after. Artifacts are some of the most powerful things in this world.

The city itself is a renaissance representation of Venice. Cars don't exist, nor does steam power. Magic is no big part of a commoner's life, and it plays no big part in the city. On the surface at least. Science is a heavily discussed topic right now, but it's not advanced. Theories about the world start blooming only know, and there is an ongoing struggle with the iron fist of the church. Alchemy is one of the most advanced sciences, and seems very magic in its potential. Transmutation is not unheard of, but the church prosecutes alchemists, which makes it a very secretive science.

A list of common monsters, with a small description:

Spoiler:

Vampires, monsters who live on blood. They are stronger and faster than humans. They have to be invited into a house to enter, but after the invitation they can enter at will. Christian symbolism cripples them, and they dislike sunlight. Vampirism is transferable. If a vampire pierces your skin with their teeth, you will become a vampire too. Vampires normally pierce the skin with other means and drink from the wound, to not infect their prey.

Werewolves, monsters who can change into monstrous half-man, half-wolf beings. In werewolf form, they possess wolf-like traits, and are stronger than humans. They lose cognitive function, however. A big weakness includes touching silver. Lycanthrophy is spread by getting bitten by a werewolf. Werewolfs mostly kill their prey, however, or don't use their teeth to keep the target from turning.

Ghosts, monsters who are the souls of dead people. They can interact with the physical world at times, but are mainly intangible. Ghosts can turn invisible and have limited teleportation. They can be harmed with salt, and pass on if their corpse get cremated. Ghosts are created if someone dies and still has attachment to the physical world. They can also be created by spells.

Ghouls, demons who have taken on the appearance of the first dead body they ate. They are corpse eater, and feed off of rotting flesh. They don't feel pain as we do, and can lose body parts without hurting themselves. They can replace parts of their body with that of other corpses. Ghouls don't remember their lives as demons before they became ghouls.

Mermaids, monsters who live underwater, and eat humans. Their fish tail changes into human legs once they enter land. On land they are just humans in their ability, only almost always beautiful. Once they enter water, their true nature arises. They can breathe underwater, and heal there. They are faster and stronger in the water.

Sirens, monsters who lure humans away to consume them. Their skin rots, and they are unholy in appearance. They have hypnotic capabilities, however, and use these to fit in. Their hypnosis isn't extremely strong, and it's easy to break, but sirens commonly use it to lure lonely humans out of the streets. One of their strongest hypnotic abilities is to make people believe they have a beautiful appearance, which they use to blend in with the masses.

Demons, monsters who possess humans to for their personal gain. Demons are formless beings that take over host bodies. They have limited telekinesis, and can leave and enter host bodies at will. Their main weakness is everything holy. They can't enter holy places, and burn if they touch anything holy. Demons stuck on earth are corrupted spirits, and their is no knowledge about the existence of an after life, beyond being stuck on earth as a demon or a ghost. A demon is born every time a person who lived a life of extreme evil dies. A newly born demon basically gets born out of their sins. Newborns are pure evil, and will do nothing but wreak havoc. A demon can develop new character traits as it's lifespan grows, however.

Draconians, monsters who are the distant descendants of dragons. They look human, but they have dragon like abilities. Their skin is extremely durable, and they can breathe flames. Their legs are scaly, and they have claws instead of feet. Draconians are known for their greed, commonly associated with gold, but this is not always the case.

Faes, monsters who are mostly mischievous in nature. While this mischief may differ from simple trickery, to harmful deceit, they all like to play around. They commonly look childlike. They have very potent reality warping, with which they can change the world around them. It allows them to change objects into others, placing hexes on people, and move things around. It's commonly perceived as magic, but it in actuality it's a form of reality warping. They have a very big weakness to iron however.

Gameplay

Venice combines sandbox elements with a story driven plot. Players will be presented with an arc long story, but they will not be limited to this story. Players are allowed to develop their own characters and stories, and along the way will be presented with opportunities to join the overarching story. The GM will try to use player created plot and characters as much as possible. In the world of Venice, players can take almost any job, and fulfil that. Venice is heavily based in this supernatural world, so involving your character with it is a good way to get in with the action. Big plot points will be interaction between the families, magical artifacts, and dealing with monsters.

You

You are a citizen of Venice, free to roam the city. Most people are affiliated with a family. Either being part of that family, or working for them. Families are what they sound like. Members of the family are all related by blood, and the only way to become part of it is to marry your way in. People that work for families are paid by them. Players don't need to be part of a family, although they are a good way to get involved in the action. Players can be shop owners, street rats, or monster hunters too.

Arc Library

Arc 1 - The Fall of an Empire

Rules

PC rules apply.
This RP is M-rated
No godmodding
No bunnying unless you've gotten permision to do so
Post at least once every two weeks
New races or species cannot be added without permission of the GM
Creating Very strong NPC's should be talked through with the GM
Creativity is encouraged. I'm likely to agree with what you're wanting to add to the story, unless it clashes with the setting
Be respectful. The RP is supposed to be fun for everyone

The Sign-Up Sheet

Name: (Real name, and name used when wearing a mask)

Age:

Gender:

Species: (Can be either human, one of the common monsters, or a requested species. I suggest requesting a species first, and only writing your SU after the GM said you are allowed to use it. This is because they may be denied, or changed to fit the setting better.)

Affiliation: (Your affiliation with a family. If you want to join up with another player and create a family together, but have not decided yet, you can just put YES here, and try to set up a family after that.)

Appearance: (This includes your mask.)

Personality:

History: (This is allowed to be very brief)

Powers/Skills: (Human characters are allowed to have superpowers through magic, while monster can only acquire other magical abilities through artefacts. All extraordinary skills should be mentioned here, however, not just the magic powers.)

Weapons: (The weapons can be anything that was around in and before the late renaissance. This is mostly swords, but small fire weapons are allowed too.)

Accepted players

Sign ups are opened:

- Ice as Maria Insetto
- Foxrally as The Boogeyman
- Crunch Punch as RESERVED
- Ice Goddess as RESERVED
- Infinite as RESERVED
- Varys The Galvantula as Pierre Marco Matera
- under_score as Keira O'cuinn
- DLMuerte as RESERVED
- Godzil as Cynthia "Cindy" MacKenzie
- Oddball_ as Sheog the Demon
- gimmepie as Adalina "Pixie" Capello
- Deceptio as Rowin Odo
- STARDU5T as Gabriel Lorand Vignali
- Kyoke as Carlo De Loca

Important NPCs

Ice1 · Jan 11, 2016

The Day The Empire Fell, prelude to arc 1

July 1st

The Prodigi household was struck by silence this morning. It was just the sound of of silverware scraping against the porcelain plateware that screeched its way through the quiet hallways. The three Prodigi brothers tried to keep their faces as clear from emotion as possible, but every single one knew what the others were thinking.

"How much can I take? How do I get rid of them?"

Those were the questions surely going through their minds. Their wives all accompanied their right sides, to honor breakfast etiquette with an origin that had long been forgotten. They were undoubtedly thinking similar thoughts.

The silence was broken as a crying Agostino entered the room. The young boy was holding a rag, and rushed up to his mother, Natalia, commonly considered to be the beastly of the Prodigi wives. Quickly after his caretaker rushed in, but not before the little Agostino could ask: "Where are they taking granddad?"

As soon as the question left his lips, the caretaker swooped him up, and rested him on her arm.

"No no no, we don't speak to mommy before noon," she said with a calm and somber tone, as she patted Agostino's head. As her eyes met with the boy's mother, she nodded, took a small bow, a gave her condolences.

Quickly, Agostino got carried out of the room, and as soon as the door closed, the oldest Prodigi, Alfonso, took the final bite of his breakfast, and started speaking.

"I do sometimes wonder," he said, "did you ever love the man?"

His youngest brother Ottavio sighed.

"Honestly, I'm not even going to answer that question," he responded.

"Glad he's dead," Figaro, the middle brother, said.

"It was about time too, the man was getting frail," Ottavio said, "although I expected the man to collapse under the weight of his own ego before he would die of an heart attack, though."

"Oh well, I'm not complaining," Alfonso said, "but this does leave us with an unexpected breakfast top-"

"I thought you were never going to bring it up."

"As I said, breakfast topic," Alfonso continued, "who gets what?"

Shak · Jan 12, 2016

Luciana Vitolo

Under The Venice Lights

23 // Up for Adoption // Female

Pablo chuckled as the as removed his hand from the bare bottom of the prostitute walking past him. How could he not? The place was so perfect. They had the best drinks, the best food, the best women; the place was so nice, he could even appreciate the interior design and the architecture of the structure. He was truly at home. Between the tasteful music and the positive comradery of those he called his 'family', this brothel was truly the place he felt the most at ease.

The doors flung open, and a young woman with a spring in her step, strolled triumphantly through the door. She seemed to be a holding two small chests; one under each arm. Despite the wealth attention she'd caught from the eyes around the brothel, the girl confidently strutted towards Pablo and his crew and dropped her luggage.

"So…I got the money." She grinned, standing over the men; men who would've been twice her size had they been standing up. Pablo raised a brow, and effortlessly dragged one of the boxes that the girl had lugged in. The contents seemed to glow as he opened it. He quickly slammed the lid back down, and looked up at the girl that stood proudly before him. She actually did it? He thought to himself, slightly aggravated. He thought he sent her on an impossible quest of endless searching, but somehow the girl had actually found it.

"Where did you find this?" He glanced up at her, with a face blistered with fear. Although she was taken aback by the question, the girl's expressions was flat and completely unimpressed.

"Ummm…where it says on the map." She rolled her eyes as she spoke. Pablo sighed. The girl pulled up a seat before throwing herself in the large leather armchair. "Get me the best you got, I don't care how much!" She called out to any nearby waiter that was listening. Pablo watched her with an expression of remorse, but she was far too occupied with basking in her own achievement to notice.

"Luciana…" His sombre tone was enough to catch the responsiveness of the distracted young lady. "Lucy!" he called again, this time with much more base in his voice. Luciana halted her celebration and turned to face Pablo. She responded with a perky sound that Pablo assumed was confirmation that he had her attention. "You should probably go home now. It's getting late…" He averted his gaze, escaping eye contact with her by any means he could. Luciana's grin slowly turned to an angered frown.

"What?" She questioned, squinting with frustration. She stood to talk to the man on what was as close as she could come to eye level without something to stand on. Despite her significantly smaller frame, her presence remained intimidating.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure that you could handle a night out with our guys." A few of his family members chuckled as he explained to the girl why she couldn't stay. Their laughter annoyed her. Keeping her composure, she grabbed the drink that the waiter had placed down on her table.

"Try me." She grinned. Having had enough with Luciana's protests, Pablo lifted her over his shoulder and carried her to the door. "No, **** that!" She bawled, thumping his large back with all the energy she could muster. "You said, that if I found this god damn loot, I could stay out with you guys past 8:00 O'clock! I found your great mystical ****ing loot…" After tiring from the repeated and seemingly inconsequential assault on the man's back, she turned her face away from the gang members she faced as she was carried away, in an attempt to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. Pablo placed his hand on her back, but was quickly shrugged off. He got to the door and placed her down, using his huge frame to stop her from getting back inside.

"You don't want to worry your parents kid." He scratched his head as he spoke.

"I don't ha-" She snapped around to speak, but quickly cut herself off as she realised what she was about to say. With watery eyes, she was stuck facing him. She turned her back again and folded her arms. "I don't have any parents." She sighed. Pablo was left speechless. He had to say something though.

"Sorry kid, it's for the best." Before she could continue her fussing, the door was quickly slammed shut in her face. Pablo turned to his crew. He scowled. "Someone keep an eye on her from now on." He growled with an air of discontent.

Outside, a disgruntled Luciana was busy brushing of both the dust and the frustration she'd gathered from the infuriating happening. A few quick glances around made it clear that there was no one around to listen to the rest of her rant. She noticed that she didn't have the chests filled with money that she'd found. Had she been robbed? ****. She groaned in thought. Not only had the assholes tricked her into doing their dirty work, but they'd stolen her earnings aswell. The thought pissed her off even more. She kicked a stone, which bobbled a few times, before making a satisfying plopping sound as it plunged into the waters of the canals of Venice

jombii · Jan 14, 2016

~~I will promise to do CSS once I get rid of this laziness in my body.~~

Pierre Marco Matera
The Spider

Pierre Marco was seated alone at one side of the long, mahogany table. There was a plate with rib-eye steak, cooked to perfection in front of him, with a side of corn. However, it remains to be touched, the knife and fork unmoved on the napkin beside the plate. Pierre Marco's hands was on the stem of the wine glass and had his eyes closed. His hands were steady but there are lines on the side of his eyes, almost unnoticeable but a giveaway to apparent discomfort.

Inside his mind, Pierre Marco was talking to one of his underlings, an addict in one of the dark Venetian alleyways. While this one was largely unreliable because of overdosing, he was the only one right now that could give Pierre Marco the information he needed.

"Tell me about the transaction between the Capice and the Vongola," Pierre Marco said, in a tone that could not be described as anything but chilly.

"We-e-e-ll, the-ey met last Sa-aturday," the addict started saying, his voice and speech quivering and stuttering because of the effects of the drug. While Pierre Marco had a short stint into drugs in his youth, he gave it up as he deemed it to slow his abilities down. "The-ey were ta-ta-talking aboot s-am ri-ring." The addict's speech made Pierre Marco cringe a little inside. "O-oor ri-ngs. Po-powerfu-ful rings." Pierre Marco was sure that the Vongola had an artifact in their hands, but he now confirmed what they are and that it is not singular.

"Did they bring the rings with them last Saturday?" Pierre Marco asked, itching to end the conversation.

"No-no. Th-the actual transa-saction wi-will be do-done same ti-time ne-next we-eek a-at th-the Vo-vongola house," the addict said. Pierre Marco could feel that the addict is already slipping into slumber and cut off the connection.

He opened his eyes. Having an artifact of my own would be great but in the possession of the Vignali, it would create wonders. He let out a small smile, knowing that nobody was in the room to see him. He picked up the steak knife and started cutting. Pierre Marco is getting giddy.

Foxrally · Jan 15, 2016

The monster under your bed

"'I'm not afraid of you, boogeyman!' little Fia said.
She threw away her covers and stood up on her bed.

'Because I'm a giant crocodile!' she exclaimed triumphantly.
'Oh no!' the boogeyman said, 'Please, don't eat me!'

The boogeyman ran away, as terrified as a mouse!
And soon he had flown away, far from little Fia's house.

She knew he would come back again, and try to scare her anew,
But if that ever happened, she knew just what to do!"

The caretaker closed the book and placed it on the nightstand next to her. "And now, you know what to do as well. Time to sleep!"

Agostino moaned in protest, his drowsy eyes fixed on the book next to him. "I want to hear it again…" he mumbled, before yawning loudly.

The caretaker smiled. "I'll let you hear it again if you close your eyes and count to ten." she said, poking him on the nose.

"Okay… One…" he began sleepily, closing his eyes. "Two…"

As he counted, the caretaker slowly stood up and left the room, silently closing the door behind her. Agostino had not even gotten to three before sleep had taken over him.

-------------

The boogeyman smiled. He had found his target for the night. Agostino, what a nice boy… You've been very naughty today, haven't you? he thought, instantly moving from the corner of the room to inside the closet. The latter shook a little as a few cloth hangers fell from their fixtures. It's not very nice to throw your food on the floor, you know… he continued, shifting to a drawer in the nightstand. As he did so, the nightstand shook violently, causing the book on it to fall loudly on the ground.

"Mmmh… what?" Agostino muttered, woken up by the book falling.

"It's not very nice to yell at poor Martina all day, too. She works very hard for you…" he heard a voice whisper. The nightstand stopped shaking as the boogeyman shifted to the darkness under the child's bed. Agostino frowned and looked around. Nobody else was in his room… The door was locked and-

With a loud CRASH, the window near the young Prodigi's bed slammed shut. "M-artina?" he mumbled, his eyes beginning to well up with tears.

The wind had suddenly began blowing outside, seeping through the small cracks between the window and windowsill. "Martina can't help you…" it howled. Apparently, this alone was enough to make the young boy cry, as he began screaming loudly that there was a ghost in his room.

At the sound of her young master crying, the caretaker Martina rushed into the room. "What is it, child?" she asked, concerned that he had wet the bed again.
"The boogeyman is in my room!" Agostino sobbed. "He's going to get me!"

Martina smiled, relieved. She thought of a solution to calm the child; for she had more important business to tend to. "Just do what little Fia did in the story. Instead of having the Boogeyman try to scare you, just ignore him. If he gets too close, you try to scare him instead! You're a big boy, aren't you?"

Agostino dried his tears. "Okay…"

Martina chuckled and closed the door again, making a mental note to stop reading him the Boogeyman story before bedtime.

-------------

A few hours passed, and most of the household was fast asleep, spare a few night guards. Agostino, having finally managed to get some sleep, was snoring softly. The Boogeyman had waited patiently this whole time, and as the moon hit its peak of visibility, he knew it was time.

The boy slowly began shifting in his sleep, frowning as he made slight punching gestures in his slumber. "Get… away…" he muttered, before waking up with a jolt. He rubbed his eyes, and momentarily considered going to his parents' or Martina's room to complain about the nightmare. He frowned. "No, I am a big boy!" he whispered to himself as he put his back on his pillow to sleep.

"How brave of you." the latter responded. Agostino sat back up and looked around, unsure of who had said that. "So brave… If only you were as good as you were courageous…" the voice continued behind him. Agostino turned around and looked at his pillow, confused. Suddenly, the formerly plain white pillow grew two large purple eyes and a mouth. "Hello."

The boy screamed in fear as he scampered to the other side of the bed, far away from the pillow. "Did Martina ever tell you the rest of the story?" it began. Agostino shook his head silently, using his covers to shield most of his body. "Yes, the boogeyman returned to Fia's house, when she was sleeping… Do you know what happened?" Agostino shook his head again, whimpering a little as the pillow began to laugh. "The boogeyman took her away… FOREVER!" it screamed. As it did, a giant, bony hand emerged from underneath Agostino's bed, and latched on to his foot, which was not covered by the bed sheet.

The child began screaming as he struggled to get his foot free. The pillow hopped closer to him. "The boogeyman is coming…" it cackled, transforming into a large snake and wrapping itself around his neck.

"HEL-" Agostino began screaming, but was cut short by the snake wrapping around his mouth.

"Now now, we wouldn't want a boring old adult to interrupt ussss, would we? Nobody likesss a tattletale!" the snake hissed. "Now come…" The hand that had grabbed Agostino's foot suddenly let go, a opened its hand, beckoning him to hold it. After a few moments of indecision, the boy attempted to scream through the snake, and began tugging at the animal. "Oh, don't leave me hanging… Unless you want to be doing just that!" the snake laughed as it transformed into a noose and lifted the boy up.

Agostino looked down, still screaming in fear for someone to help and tugging desperately at the noose around his neck. His bed, which had seemed only a few inches away from him, was now a thirty-foot drop away, and was surrounded by an immense whirlpool filled to the brim with sharks. The bony hand emerged from underneath the bed, as well as the rest of its body. It belonged to what appeared to be a dark, hooded skeleton in a pirate outfit and a sabre in its mouth. The monster began flying towards him, and the saber began to light up. The crowd of sharks at the bottom popped their heads out. "Cut him loose!" one cried. "Naughty children are delicious!" cried another. The hooded pirate cackled maniacally as he cut the rope loose, and Agostino fell back onto his bed. The whirlpool and sharks had disappeared, but so had the rest of the room. It now seemed to be an infinitely long hallway. Stumbling off his bed, the young Prodigi began to run. He turned around, and saw that what had previously been his bed was now an enraged bear, chasing him down. Screaming out for help, he continued running down the endless hallway. After what seemed to be an eternity, he finally reached the end, where Martina was standing, her back turned as she dusted a few plates.

Agostino ran towards her, bawling his eyes out. Just as he was about to reach her, she stopped, keeping her back turned. "What is it, child?" she asked sweetly.

"Th- The boogeyman-" Agostino began, sobbing.

"You called?" Martina turned around. Her face was that of the hooded pirate. Agostino shrieked and turned around. They appeared to be back in his room now. Running for the door, he realized that it was locked. The Boogeyman laughed as the child hurried back to his bed, the only safe haven he could think of. The Boogeyman stepped forward, ready to unleash the final scare on the child – Agostino's greatest fear. His figure began shrouding itself in darkness, as he transformed into-

"Granddad!" Agostino shrieked, his eyes bloodshot in fear.

The remark caught the boogeyman completely off guard. "Grandfather?" he asked sheepishly, looking at his hands. "Now kid, I really don't think being afraid of your-"

"Agosti- oh dio…"an elderly voice murmured behind him, as he saw before him the smiling, reanimated corpse of his very own grandson, with a knife in his head. Gerardo Prodigi clutched at his heart as he fell to the ground.

"GRANDDAD!" Agostino screamed as he rushed to his grandfather's body. Still in shock of what he had done, Boog shifted back to his regular form, his hand clasped over his mouth. He had not heard the sound of the door being unlocked behind him. "Oh no… Oh, no…" he repeated. Hearing footsteps coming towards the room, he dashed into the closet, disappearing into the shadow.

Oddball_ · Jan 15, 2016

Sheog the Demon
Oddball as Albus Deamillia/Sheog and Deceptio as Rowin Odo

Albus looked at the orange sunrise and took a sip of his tea. "Well isn't this lovely." He noted to himself. He looked over at his companion an odd looking fellow to be sure, but considering the thing currently asleep within he himself he really shouldn't judge. After refastening his cuflinks. he picked up the teapot and turned to his companion. "More tea Rowin my dear fellow?"

Rowin tipped his hat a little and continued smiling his signature devilish grin as the sun rose to the point of casting a shadow upon the hats wide brim. He cocked his wrist gently to allow the angled cup to be filled and nodded softly in response to his old friends question. "Tea in the morning Albus, is like a warm fire on a cold and windy day... essential to everyone but me, yet I still adore the indulgence." As the cup was filled, he took a sip of the tea and it could be heard, rather audibly, echoing as it splattered against the hollow inside of Rowin's artificial body. It was a wonder really, this was the result of everything Rowin ate or drank, yet he never leaked, burst or ever so much as showed a single sign of being filled to the brim with food and drink. How curious.

"Did you hear about Gerardo Prodigi?" Albus asked, already knowing the answer. Everyone in Venice had heard about the death of Gerardo Prodigi, Albus only brought it up because of the buisness opportunities the grisly event would bring to the surface. The Deamillia family had been lurking in the shadows for far too long. With the death of Gerardo, they could join in as the families all grabbed at the massive fortune that was left behind, and once they had enough power and support, they could finally go and bring about the end of the tyrrany of the church. Albus lit his pipe and took a few puffs on it. "I figured you wouldn't mind."

"Gerardo, Gerardo... I knew him well... or not. I can't really remember, plenty of old men have kicked the bucket in this city. Due to age or... other things. This or that, that and those... or just a slit throat and a pat on the back as they trod off to the whatever after this." Rowin grinned and flicked the small, curved blade he had been bound to for centuries as if it were a small coin. He broke the smile for a second and caught the blade firmly in his grasp before almost immediately grinning again. "On a more serious note, if I can produce one with such a tastefully eccentric element to my tone, I suppose this means we'll pushing ahead with one plan or another... The poor old gentleman did sit on a nice pile of golden coins before staining them red, how messy... or not... How did he die again? Oh no matter." Rowin finished 'drinking' his tea before tossing the cup haphazardly to the side and allowing it to drop into one of the Venetian channels below. "Oh and no... I don't think I mind much at all. Be you talking about the death or the pipe." He stood up and stretched, though he had absolutely no need to do so, ever. "I'm not much one for scheming Albus, I don't suppose you've something cooking up in that split, cut and stewed brain of yours?"

"Oh I'm sure we'll come up with something, either myself or the big guy... Although it would be wise to watch what the others are planning. One step forward and two to the side." Albus mused. He walked over to the edge of the roof and layed his hands upon the railing and stared down at the city below. Something big was happening. The wind was gently blowing and the entire city was mourning the death of their beloved entreprenuer. Yet the city wasn't silent. Whispers echoed around every corner, eyes peered from the shadows. Everyone and everything was waking up from a long slumber, and who knew what the days to come would bring. "We should do this again some time. Although if you would refrain from tossing my good china into the canal, I would be ever so grateful."

"Oh that was one of the good ones? It looked a little ratty so I chucked it. Drat. I think I have some leftover porcelain from the Aladino girls doll, I'll make you a better one." He hopped up on to the railing that Albus now leaned upon and glanced down at him. "Chin up friend, dark nights approach but bright mornings always follow... do they not? Look at we as demons after all, such sunnier dispositions do well to act as metaphor for the World we live in. Now then..." Rowin turned around and slowly started to lean backwards off the railings. "And of course we should... was that not implied? Your mind is ageing while your body does it friend. Farewell!" And he was gone, falling from the roof and landing upon a hand before flipping to his feet he gave a small wave and began to walk away, ready to continue with his new day.

"Well then, plotting with Demons now are we boyo?" A thickly accented voice echoed in the mind of Albus as he cleaned up the cups that hadn't been tossed into a canal. "Whether I like it or not, we're in this together. The church would hunt me down just as fast as you." Albus sighed as he walked over to the hatch that led back into the attic of the candy shop. "Thats right, they'll fill you with more holes than cheese. The swiss kind. Or maybe Esrom... Mmm I'd very much like some cheese now. FEED ME MORTAL." The voice in Albus' head roared. "I think theres some in the cellar, give me a minute." Albus grunted. "BUT I WANT IT NOW!" The voice whined.

gimmepie · Jan 17, 2016

Adalina "Pixie" Capello

Aged 21 | Female | Fae

A faint breeze blew off of the lightly chopping waves of the sea chilling the evening air as citizens of Venice crowded the Piazza San Marco in the shadow of Saint Mark's Basilica. The towering house of God provided a sense of security to the denizens of the city as the sun began to set casting an orange glow over the marbled square and the lightly churning sea. It was a beautiful sight that nobody was taking the time to appreciate. It would soon become dark, and even under the watchful gaze of the church and the Doge, the night was full of terrors. Now the Venetians hurried to finish their business and make it home before the monsters and murderers lurking in the dark could descend upon them.

Amongst the throng of scurrying Venetians was Adalina Capello, garbed in one of her favourite Autumn-coloured dresses – long auburn hair flowing freely. She looked every bit like a free-spirited child of eleven or twelve, maybe a little older, which worked fine for her. It made the argument she was having with a grizzled and greying gentleman in his forties look like a disobedient child and her father. The man was not Adalina's father though, nor was she a child. At twenty-one years of age she may have looked like a young human, but she was a Fae – one of the supposed terrors that lurked amongst the people of Venice. At that particular moment, Adalina was an angry Fae.

"That's ridiculous!" she protested, perhaps a little too loudly considering the shady nature of her transaction and the large number of priests that were surely nearby. "Do you know what I had to go through to get this! Werewolves Adriano! Werewolves! Very big, monstrous dog-things with extremely large teeth and claws and rather fast feet. You're offering a pittance!" She was fuming now. Adriano Langella was a long-term associate of Adalina's, but somehow they were always at odds… that somehow likely being something to do with the man's stingy nature despite the increasingly dangerous jobs he expected of Adalina.

"Come now miss, let us not go through this again." His surprisingly smooth tones replied, his demeanour calm despite the fury evident in his gaze. "A couple of big silly dogs should be nothing to the great Pixie, master thief of Venice." Despite their long-term association, Adriano did not Adalina's real name though she did know his. Adriano was a merchant, a somewhat wealthy one at that. In the eyes of the public he dealt in fine art but behind closed doors he dealt in magical artefacts. In the upper echelons of Venetian society it was difficult to discover his identity, as even when dealing with the families he wore a mask, as did most. For Adalina it had been easy to come across the man however, she did move in the upper circles and had grown up running amongst street urchins and the children of shoe shiners. She had found him simply by following up on a rumour and had counted him among her small list of associates ever since. Adalina herself rarely dealt with the powerful families of Venice, and even when she did only the smaller of them. It was much easier to remain in secrecy when working with merchants like Adriano, although these days she often heard rumours of Pixie – the infamous fae thief who laughed in the face of the families defences and took from their most private stashes as though they littered the streets. These rumours weren't far off, but that didn't mean that she appreciated being set-upon by werewolves for a minisucle amount of money when Adriano could easily pay her more.
"Adriano, I might be a great thief and capable of many extraordinary things but I cannot work miracles. I can't outrun a werewolf anymore than you can risk annoying me without carrying that iron dagger I know you keep hidden under your coat. I do not appreciate constantly put into near death situations if you're not going to pay me what I'm worth!" Adalina enjoyed reminding Adriano that he was but a man whilst she was a being that quite literally could alter reality to suit her needs – although truth be told Adalina was not nearly as powerful as she liked to keep Adriano believing. "Now, either you can give me a healthier amount or I'll take this magical glove of yours and sell it to one of the families. Good luck getting your grubby hands on it then."

Adriano's nostrils flared slightly and his eyes narrowed, Adriano was close to losing his composure and then things could become problematic. It would not be the first time the two had really argued, things were usually heated between them. Adriano was not a threat to anyone really, but he had been known to sulk and withhold his business when a deal went south. Adalina couldn't afford to risk the merchant's payments, nor did she dislike him. In fact, she quite liked the sly man aside for his stinginess in their dealings.
"My hands are far from grubby, I move in far cleaner circles than you do thief. As for selling that artefact to one of the families, you are just as welcome as always to take your business elsewhere but you know damn well that the vast majority of the families will pay you just as little as I – if not less – assuming they don't remember that you've probably stolen from them in the past and decide to not let you leave their company with your life. Is that not why you choose to take work from me?"

Adalina didn't much fancy admitting it, but Adriano had a point. Her threat held a lot less wait when you considered the fact that the vast majority of the families probably would kill her on sight instead of taking her business and that those that wouldn't definitely wouldn't pay her any better than he would. Adalina sighed, she knew that the merchant had her this time and that it would likely mean even smaller payments in the future.
"Fine you smug bastard." Adalina said, a grin gracing her features strangely enough, "You win this round, but don't think you'll get off so lightly next time."
"Oh I'm sure I won't." Adriano said smugly, indicating that he very much intended to do just that.

Adalina exchanged the mail glove for the small fee Adriano was prepared to pay, the merchant and fae parting ways with the former pleased to discover the ancient artefact was shining as though it had only just been forged. Still, this left the young fae in something of a predicament. She'd made enough to eat the next night, but she was going to need to do something further to bolster her funds if she wanted dinner the day after that.
"I guess I'll stop home and then it's off to work." Adalina said to herself with a mischievous grin.

Groc · Jan 25, 2016

Venice

Crescent

Daniel moved slowly across the floor, his hand trembling, making the shadows dance and flicker as his lantern shook. He held his sword, still sheathed, by the blade to form a makeshift crucifix. His eyes darted across the dark room, searching for his prey. "Alright, monster! Come out and face me! I'm not afraid!"

You're a terrible liar, Cindy thought as she hung from the rafters above the boy. I can smell it, plain as day, and all the way up here. She dropped down, with only the slightest whisper of rustling silk, and blew out the light before Daniel could react. He emitted a high-pitched and very unmanly shriek, flailing his sword around. Cindy's vision was unimpaired, and she had to force herself not to laugh at the sight. "Sorry, but you're dead." She spoke with the accent of the Calvierri, though a touch of amusement was evident in her voice. At least until he drew his blade, which seemed rather unnecessary, given the circumstances.

"Hey! Put that away before you end up hurt, lad!" Her natural Highlands accent came through, to her chagrin. The boy stopped flailing as a light appeared in a nearby doorway, causing Cindy to vanish with a rustle of her cloak. Giovanni Calvierri approached Daniel, a scowl on his stern face. "What were you thinking, boy? Did you think the monster would just appear before you and engage you in honorable combat?"

Daniel sheathed his blade, face red with embarrassment. From her perch on the rafters, Cindy could smell his blood, sense the heat rushing into his cheeks. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. Giovanni moved his head slightly, having heard the intake of air, and his scowl deepened as he nodded once. Cindy cursed silently, while Giovanni continued. "Monsters don't have a code of honor, boy. They strike fast, hard, and without warning!"

Cindy dropped from the ceiling, landing on Daniel's shoulders and riding him to the ground. He cried out in fear and alarm, but Giovanni's other hand emerged from his pocket, thrusting a silver cross at Cindy. She hissed in discomfort and fear, recoiling from the holy symbol. She shrieked in defiance, an unholy screech no mortal could produce, and fled into the shadows. Daniel scrambled to his feet, and Giovanni grabbed him roughly by the arm. "Show no mercy, indulge them no honor, and for God's sake, never forget to look up. They can come from anywhere." He sent Daniel away, and started lighting candles around the room.

Cindy stepped from the shadows, seeming to materialize beside Giovanni. "Could have done without the turning, Van." She mutters, slightly annoyed but mostly remorseful. "I think he got the point."

Giovanni glared at her, brandishing his lit candle in her face. "It is Lord Calvierri, Cynthia. And these children have learned their lesson when I say they have. It is not your place to judge my methods!" Cindy backed down, hands raised in resignation. "Of course, my Lord." She adopted the accent, attempting to placate and appease him. "I merely meant that he is still young, and inexperienced."

Giovanni sighed, putting the candle down. "Cynthia... Cindy... We can't afford to coddle them anymore. The balance of power has shifted, and mortal men won't be the only ones making power plays. The hunters we train are the first line of offense against the things that go bump in the night, and what do I have to work with? Children! Children raised on romantic tales of valor and chivalry, that wouldn't last one night against the horrors out there. That boy couldn't even defeat you! What chance does he have against demons, or feral ghouls, or a real vampire?"

Cindy blinked once, not even breathing. Being dead meant she could hold absolutely still if she wanted. She expected Giovanni to apologize, or even notice his faux pas, but he didn't. It wasn't in his nature to consider her feelings, and she had learned to accept it. "They will learn, my Lord. Slower than you hope, but faster than you think. But may I suggest you finish their basic training before sending them to me? That was just embarrassing."

Giovanni nodded, cupping her face in his hands. "I will. You have more important tasks, my pet monster. If things get as bad as Father expects, we may need to fight monsters with monsters." He pulled her close, looking her in the eyes. She trembled, looking into the blue abyss of his eyes, before averting her gaze. Giovanni smiled with a sneer, shoving Cindy into the shadows. "Away with you! Go back to your coffin until you are needed!" He slammed the door shut, making the mirror fastened to it shake in its frame. Cindy looked away from the mirror, vanishing into the darkness.

Dusty · Jan 25, 2016

You are the light in the darkness, the city on a hill; you are the one who stands in the gap between man and monster, good and the forces of evil. You are the sword in the hand of our savior. You are templar, you are inquisitor. You are the tool of our Lord. Gabriel kept repeating these and similar phrases in his head, reminding himself that his actions were holy and just. There were no sins in actions he performed to his Lord, although he could never get the thought out of his head that maybe he was wrong, particularly when torturing another man. The man in question, a bald man perhaps forty-five or fifty years of age, was slouched over on his knees, his arms suspended above him with his hands in manacles. His bare chest was scarred and bruised from his time in the dungeon, some wounds fresh and red, others a few days old already starting to fester.

Gabriel added to the man's collection of wounds, pulling the hot poker out of the fire once again, bringing the red hot metal rod to bear in front of him. The man whimpered as he saw the rod coming closer out of the corner of his eye, cringing in fear and tears in his eyes. Then the rod came down, pressing against the man's chest as he screamed, muffled by the gag in his mouth. Then the rod was gone, placed back in the fire to reheat in preparation for the next punishment. Gabriel's companion for the session, a tall thin bald man by the name of Brother Thomas, carefully pulled the gag out of the man's mouth.

"Now Mr. Vespuchi," Brother Thomas said in a smooth, even, almost compassionate voice, "I can make this easy if you just talk to me. But if you don't give me what I need, then the man over there is going to have to continue until you're willing to talk." Vespuchi nodded through tears and a clenched jaw, still reeling from the pain. The torture had already gone on for an hour today, and others had been torturing him for the past week. Thomas, taking the nod as wanting to talk, held up an old and graying blade. Despite the loss of it's shine, the blade still looked razor sharp. "Do you know what this is?" He didn't wait for a response. "This is the blade of Simon Peter, one of the apostles of Christ. When our Savior was betrayed, Peter cut off the ear of the high priest with this very same blade. Since that day anyone struck with this sword becomes deaf, provided they don't die of course. Now you had someone steal this blade for you, I need to know who stole it, and why you wanted it."

Gabriel moved closer to Vespuchi and focused. He had been granted a special, almost magical ability, one that made him incredibly useful in situations such as this. He was able to sense whether a person was lying or not, although it wasn't really an exact science. It was more of a gut feeling that he got from it. He closed his eyes and focused on the words Vespuchi was saying, trying to discern the intent behind them. "I don't know who wanted the blade," Vespuchi said through shaky breaths, "I got a letter one day, about three weeks ago, from a man saying he would pay great amounts of money for the blade, and that I should follow certain directions if I were to obtain it…" He trailed off, letting the words hang. There was something wrong about the words, and Gabriel's gut twisted. He was lying, that he was sure of.

Gabriel shook his head at Brother Thomas and he gave Vespuchi a disappointed look, "Tut tut, don't you know it's bad form to lie to a member of the Church? Come now Mr. Vespuchi, the truth now. I need a name, I know that you know a name."

Vespuchi shuddered for a moment, and then spat out, "Drago. It was Vincent Drago." No twisting sensation in his gut this time, so Gabriel nodded hesitantly.

"Good, very good," Thomas said. "And what of the thief?"

The prisoner hesitated for a long moment, as if fearful to reveal the person he entrusted to steal his artifact. "A...a girl. Young, looks no more than fifteen or so. About five feet tall, slight build…"

Thomas cut him off, "You expect me to believe that a young girl broke into a heavily guarded mansion, stole a blade, and escaped without a soul noticing?" He scoffed. Gabriel wanted to think the same thing, but he sensed no deception from the man.

Vespuchi continued, "I...I think she is probably a fae. I don't have any name, I only met her a few times. The families call her the Pixie I think. The only time I met her during the day she wore a fairly plain dress, warm colors." Tears were streaming from the man's face now, "I'm sorry...I don't have anything else to give you, that's all I know." Gabriel nodded to Thomas again, the man seemed to be telling the truth. Thomas motioned to join him outside, and the two left the torture room.

Once the door was closed outside, Gabriel took off the golden mask he had been wearing, an annoying formality that the church had to hide the identity of torturers from the one being tortured. "He seems to be telling the truth. Everything seemed sincere, although why he put up such a fight for the past couple weeks, and then broke down just now...I don't know."

"The minds of men are strange things my friend," Brother Thomas replied, a tired note in his voice. "But at least we have the information we need now. I will deal with our Drago friend, but I want you to investigate this so called 'Pixie'. If we are dealing with a fae, things become more...interesting. I've heard a few things, rumors, about this thief, never much, never more than a whisper or two. You'd better watch your back Gabriel, you never know when the hunter can become the hunted."

He scoffed, "She is a child, fae or not. I'll find her and handle her, you needn't worry about that." He had never met a fae before, but everything he had read or heard of them led him to believe that they were tricksy lying things, always doing their best to sow chaos and confusion only for their own amusement. "I'll ask a few of my contacts, see what I can dig up." Gabriel turned to leave, then paused. "What should we do with Vespuchi?"

Thomas scratched his scraggly beard of a moment, thinking. "We have no more need of him, but he is too dangerous to release. The punishment for his sin is death, take his head. Hopefully God will be merciful upon him and his soul can enter heaven."

Gabriel nodded, donned his mask once again, and readied his sword. He opened the door to return into the room to do his duty.

The midday sun shone down on his head as he walked out of the church, now in his normal clothes. Gabriel wondered where he ought to go next. He had his own resources within the family that he could probably wring some information from, although most were probably out on business until dinner at least, perhaps later. His other underworld contacts were probably out as well. His actions were of the night, and it felt strange to be out in the daylight with little to do for the moment.

Wandering through the city he found himself simply enjoying the day, the bustle of Venice. He saw children in plain clothes playings in the streets. He saw vendors haggling over the prices of the morning's catch with customers. He saw a young girl arguing with her father about something. The city felt alive. This was why he did the things he did, so that they people of his city could continue living their peaceful life. He smiled to himself and hummed softly as he walked home.

gimmepie · Jan 29, 2016

Adalina "Pixie" Capello

Aged 21 | Female | Fae

Adalina dined on a meagre dinner of rye bread and fruit, sitting at the simple wooden table in the centre of her equally simple kitchen. Adalina lived alone in a small and simplistic flat not far from a square frequented by merchants. She didn't live with her family, whom had since moved away from Venice, nor did she have a spouse to share her life with. She liked to have her space, so she wasn't that desperate to change things – besides it wasn't always so easy to do so when you would still look like a child for many years… Or when you lead your life as a criminal making enemies of powerful families. Really, it was probably a good thing that Adalina was fond of her independence.

Finishing her miniscule supper, Adalina left her plate on the table and moved to the small bedroom that was located off of the kitchen. She tossed aside the Autum-coloured dress she wore, revealing the earthy brown pants and tunic below before pulling up a false board on the floor. Within was a small alcove filled with some of the treasures she had stolen but was yet to sell, sitting atop the pile was the elegant butterfly mask she wore when she set off to work. She took the mask, slipping over her face before dropping the small bag of coins she had earned from Adriano into the hole and replacing the false board.
"Off to work." She said with a smirk.

Adalina opened her door to reveal a narrow wooden staircase. Locking her door behind her she deftly stepped down the staircase despite the thick darkness obscuring her vision. She reached the bottom, suddenly in a more open space. This space in particular was an old bookstore owned by Adriano – another reason she had to be careful not to upset him too much. It was never open however, the room was empty and the windows boarded up. The shop simply served as somewhere for Adalina to live whilst she was under Adriano's employ and somewhere for him to store artwork should he need it (after all having a monster guard upstairs could come in handy).

Leaving by a hard-to-notice back door, Adalina stepped from the pitch-black interior of the shop into a moonlit alleyway. Keeping to the dim backstreets, Adalina took off in the direction that she had only just recently been heading away from – back towards the Piazza San Marco. She had no interest in the actual Piazza this time round, she had recently stolen from the Church and it was unwise to stray to close to Saint Mark's Basillica at night when they were on their guard, even for one as skilled as herself. Truth be told, the streets of Venice were all quite dangerous at night. The night was teaming with creatures of the dark and whilst Adalina could be counted amongst their number there were much fouler monstrosities moving about.

It was because of this that Adalina moved carefully, although not without confidence either. She just knew it was inadvisable to be too cocky about your abilities in a city teeming with vampires and demons. So far though, her journey had been silent but for the sound of the water in the canals lapping at the sides of the Venetian streets. It was in this silence that Adalina came upon her destination. It was a small but elegant building, a storehouse belonging to one of the many crime families of Venice. Grinning, Adalina walked past the front of the building and turned right into an alley several buildings onwards before doubling back down an adjoining alleyway to reach the back of the building. Nimbly she scaled the building's exterior to reach a window. Balancing on the thin windowsill the attempted to open the window, however it seemed that the family had learned from her last visit and that it was locked.
"Who'd have thought." Adalina chuckled quietly to herself, pressing her palm flat against the glass, the cool material instantly fading from existence. "They'll have to do better than that though."

She climbed easily through the now empty space where the window had once been, looking around the dark room in which she stood. She smirked; walking passed a candle that sprung to life on its own, casting just enough light for the Fae to be able to see clearly. Adalina surveyed the room, walking around it casually and looking into the various shelves around the room. Occasionally she would snag a small trinket and drop it into a cloth bag she carried, being careful not to take too much. Oftentimes families didn't notice a few trinkets going missing for a long time and it was those she was after at that moment, not powerful artefacts. Soon satisfied with her takings, Adalina moved back to her entry point, blowing out the candle and jumping gracefully from it, landing lightly with the bag only giving off a slight jingle. With a sly smirk the Pixie slipped away from the scene of the crime, heading in the direction of her home.

JukeboxTheGhoul · Feb 1, 2016

Nino Vignali
Healthy | Mischevious

"Please, sir." The youngling implored the older man. The older man held himself high with a straight back, a pompous tilt of the head, which obviously pointed him to be of the higher classes. He wore rather basic yet expensive clothing, which suggested he had been walking extensively. He seemed to be right handed as he used his right hand on instinct but focussed on not using it, this seemed to be because of a paper cut. Meaning he might have been a messenger were it not for him being of the higher classes. He wasn't a herald because he obviously had no military connections. This lead to the conclusion that this man was a distant relative of a Noveau Riche family delivering a message early in the morning of some kind of grave news to someone, and whomever that was, he didn't know or trust them very well, judging by the hidden knife inside their coat. As a veteran of the beggar, thief and spy profession, Nino had learnt how to tell who to target. This man had by no means low guard, but had a lucrative cargo – Information.
"Do not hassle me with this futile attempt to extort money out of me." He turned away from the young boy. "I'm not foolish." He walked off.

'I doubt that' Nino Vignali smiled, he opened a portal from the bottom of the man's pocket to Nino's pocket. Nino reached in and pulled out the scroll. He opened the scroll. He read the words on the paper 'My dear cousin, I do apologize for not writing sooner, however as you must understand I have been afflicted with illness and kept at bed. However, I've had my ears about, make it known that Gerardo Prodigi is dead. It's time for you to seize their monopoly. I've called upon favours that my master has in debt to me, he is delivering this message, to prevent anyone from taking it. I fear you'd have to deal with this yourself for I am too far gone.'

Closing the scroll, placing the scroll back in to the man's pocket, as if it were never gone. He had time before he would relay the information, if he returned home now, then he couldn't take advantage of the opportunities presenting themselves to him. Nino looked about before scampering over to a triad of street children playing with a ball. One boy hit the ball too far and headed straight for the canal. He intercepted the ball and hit it back at them.
"Who stags aft' the midnight swimming?" Nino spoke in coded tongue to the boys.
"Three bells, dear sir, dear sir, Madam." Responded one.
"And do they trot?" Nino turned to face the street.
"At 23, 43 and 94" The same boy reported.
"Thank you."

According to the orphans there were three drunk persons that were about in the street, still partially inebriated from drinking the night before. Two men and a woman. The men were on closer to the group, the woman was further uphill. When it is essential to survival, trade secrets of the unemployed become a necessary skill. Nino had decided to pickpocket the one closest to the river. In case any thing went wrong he could always push him in to the water. Additionally, this was to be done without tricks, he betted with a local tradesman and so he did this as to prove skill. He walked up behind the man.

As the man walked with a clumsy gait, this was too easy. He walked beside the man and dipped his hand in his pocket and slipped out his prize. A meagre sum of ducats in a tiny sack. As Nino was finished with such an easy win, he had not noticed the second drunken man further down the street had turned the corner. The lady that was struck by the drink, was headed towards the row of gondole. Nino looked at his attire, it was much too rough for a gondolier. Rapidly, he ran through a door. He only had a few minutes
"What is it, boy?" Called a man from within.
"Mr. Damieni?" Nino spoke hurriedly.
"Hmmph, that drunk chap was too easy, Nino." The rotund fellow sat back in his luxurious chair. He stuffed his gob with handfuls of Spaghetti. "I assume you're going for the lady next?"
"Yes, I just need to change." He rushed in to the room, facing the mirror he looked himself in the eye. He dug down his shirt and grabbed his pendant. Taking his magical artefact off, his clothes evaporated in to golden particles. A fuzzy pink figure reflected back at him. Condensation obscured the mirror. He took the pendant in his palm and touched the crystal gently. The crystal lit up and the symbols around it became illuminated in gold. He angled the crystal towards the space in the room. In that empty space a golden ghostly apparition of a gondolier's attire with Nino wearing it. He decided against looking like the gondolier, he wafted the projection to the side. The next outfit assembled, a noble's servant would fit this circumstance. He picked the necklace up and put it around his neck. He touched the crystal, and then he became surrounded in golden aura being spewed out of the crystal. Materialising on to his body, the clothes fit excellently. He hurried out the door.

Mr. Damieni shouted down his own hallway before turning around to look out the window, preparing to occupy his mouth with food once again. "Remember, no magic."
Nino nodded, even though the demon couldn't see him, before exiting the house.
Mr. Damieni took a bite out of his chicken leg as Nino appeared out of the door across the street. Nino came closer to the canal. The woman was almost at the gondole. Nino crept forward.
"Madame, would you like some help?" He asked, accenting his voice to portray a high class boy.
"Ooh why thank you, little boy, I believe I've had a spot of the poison." She smiled. Nino held out his arm, the woman steadied herself on his arm and slipped her foot in to the boat. "Do come with me, it'd be fun!"
"No. I mean, unfortunately my master beckons." He shot a glance up to Mr. Damieni.
Taking the hint, the demon leant forward, the balcony fence creaked under weight, "If I shant have my tea, you shant have yours!" He gobbled up another handful of food. Some of the sauce dripped from his napkin around his collar on to his belly.
Embarrassed, he turned her head away from Mr. Damieni, "Oh, he can wait a bit." Nino climbed in to the gondola and a gondolier walked past. The lady sought the man's attention. "Please take me and my helper to Aventura Avenue please."
"Certainly, 100 ducats please."
The lady went to find her coin purse but the space was empty. Nino took the lady's coin purse from his coat and gave it to the lady. "You dropped it." He lied.
The lady paid the man. He took up position on the bow of the ship and put his paddle in to shallow waters.

The morning sun enchanted the entire city in an awesome glow. Blues, greens, oranges and reds all streaked across the waters in reflection of intense beauty. The endless seas meet the sky on the horizon. The far ocean birthed the sun from it's waters. Canals were cast in shadow as they were afraid to contest the omnipotent sun. The webs strung from one side of the channels to the other had a multicolour of drooping attire on in. The paddle dipped in to the water gently, shifting the water aside like the wings of a dove move the air. The illustrious magnificence of Venice at the dawn was enough to paralyse the journey in to stunned silence. For the lady, it was a sight, a bit fuzzy but a sight nonetheless, that she rarely saw. For Nino, it just looked brighter and brighter, as if the sun knew what great news he acquired today.

CSS by STARDU5T

Oddball_ · Feb 3, 2016

Sheog the Demon
A friendly visit

Albus hummed as he filled a barrel full of rock candy. He enjoyed his job. A bell chimed through the shop, alerting him that someone had entered the shop. "Just a minute!" He hollered as he dusted off his hands. He turned the corner to see two well dressed men standing at the counter. "What can I get you gentlemen?" Albus asked kindly, not bothering to question why two grown men would be in a candyshop in the middle of the day. "Are you Albus Deamillia?" The man on the left asked, his dark hair covering his eyes in a way that seemed like it would make it hard to see. "Indeed, who is asking?" Albus asked.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus
omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio
infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,
omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

The other man shouted as they tossed water from a flask onto Albus, whose skin began to sizzle and burn. "Oh look, I'm out in the daytime... This doesn't happen often. Well then I guess the game is a foot. Or a leg. Or all manner of severed limbs! " The steaming man grunted climbing to his feet. "T-T-Thats impossible!" The man with the holy water exclaimed. "We exorcised you! With holy water! How are you still here!" The first man cried. "Well You really shouldn't have done that." Sheog grinned at the man with the holy water, his eyes glowing yellow and catlike. His clothes seemed to melt away and a completely different outfit merged from beneath.

"Enjoy the view." Sheog said with a wave of his hand to the other man. As he did so the man flew through the air, out the front door and into the canals of Venice. "As for you, well I don't get to play very often. I'm so happy I could just pluck out your eyes. Actually might do that, human eyes are wonderful alchemical ingrediants you know." Sheog chuckled, a blue fire erupting from his outstretched hand, eventually morphing and twisting into the shape of a silver broadsword. "P-please! Mercy!" The man with the holy water cried. "Mercy? Sorry all out of mercy." Sheog shrugged as he pinned the man to the wall with a slight movement of his head. Out of the corner of his eye, Sheog saw the other man climb out of the canal and look towards him in horror. "Place your bets, Which way the head will roll?" Sheog sang as he swung the sword.

The look of horror was etched onto the mans face as his now disembodied head bounced onto the ground. Sheog snapped his fingers and the sword was gone. He reached down and grabbed the head by the mess of hair atop it and carried it to the door. "Ta! Come visit again!" He shouted as he tossed it at the feet of the other man. "Oh and tell your friends about this place!"

Ice1 · Feb 3, 2016

A Tale of Three Brothers

July 3th

Alfonso, the oldest

The curtains let in a thin sliver of sunlight, brightening the colours of a bed with tints faded by the same source. Alfonso Prodigi sat straight up in his bed. Nightfall had yet to come, but the bedroom was a place where he could think without anything bothering him. He had a study, but the books there frightened him a bit. He wasn't a man of the dusty books, much preferring the glistening of golden coins. His head felt as heavy as the papers he been asked to read through hours ago. He had long wished for his father's wealth, but he wouldn't have wished for the old man to die so badly if he knew it would mean reading and reading, and having meetings upon meetings with figures he had never met but felt so, so sorry for him. And all of them were very reluctant to cooperate, something his brothers without a doubt experienced too. His thoughts were disrupted by a knock on the door, and without a pause, his wife entered.

"How did it go?" she asked.
"I don't even know. I swear I read those papers, I just didn't retain any of it. I don't get how the old man could be interested in all those numbers," Alfonso said. He paused for a second as he shook his head. "And some of his acquaintances are incredibly smelly, and just as rude."

"Barbarians they are. No sense of sophistication," his wife said, not trying to hide her judgments.

"Anyway, I laid claim to the docks, but I'm already starting to regret that decision. The ship captain I met with was an awful man, with no personal hygiene, and I don't think he wanted to work with me either. The warehouses are led by a fat man named Giovanni, who is probably as much pig as he's man, and it shows. Then there is the transport company we absorbed last year from the Tagelio's last year, and I doubt they've really changed allegiance after dad bough them out. I'm doing what I can, but I don't think I really have a grasp on these people. I'm thinking of sending people better at communicating with the street filth."

Figaro, the middle

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned," Figaro said. The priest at the other side of the confession booth let out a condescending sigh as soon as the sentences was spoken. His church was built against Figaro's house, and the Prodigi would visit twice a day. The priests of Venice weren't as religious as Figaro was, and father Luciano was getting sick of hearing the daily confession for Figaro's sins, which tended to be awfully small. Usually he had stared at a common woman, or he didn't get his son to eat fish on the Fridays.

"What is it, my child," Luciano said, trying to hide any negative intonation.

"I indulged in greed, father."

"How so?" He had almost mentioned Figaro by name, but the supposed anomisity of the confession was something Luciano held close to his heart. Mainly because the dullard that was Figaro had somehow not figured out Luciano knew who the man coming daily and talking to the priest regularly was, and it would be a shame to stop the rumor mill from turning. Aside from faith and women, gossip was an activity Luciano frequently dipped his toes in.

"I forced my acquaintances to divide a recently deceased man's, may his soul burn in hell eternal, heritage unequally."

"And you took more than you feel you're worth?"

"I took most of it. I don't know how I even work with these new acquisitions."

"If you don't mind me asking, at your own discretion, what did you obtain?" Luciano knew Figaro wouldn't hesitate telling the priest. Trust was a funny thing.

"I took every weaver, every blacksmith, every baker, every butcher. Every man that works hard, I bound to me."

Luciano knew most of the people employed by the Prodigi. Simple folk, loyal to Gerardo, but, as many Venetians did, despising his son. Earlier this day, a man confessed he was planning on selling out to another family, as he didn't think the Prodigi brothers would be competent enough to stop him. The smaller businesses the family owned all seemed to raise similar sentiments. The workforce was all willing to change allegiance, or force the brother's to sell the property to a better suited family. It was a shame none of Gerardo's children were as good a man as he was.

"I'd say a donation to the church and a hundred hail mary's would suffice, my child."

"Only a hundred?"

"It'll still take you the entire night, don't worry about it, our God is forgiving." Sometimes Luciano wondered if Figaro was even capable of functioning normally.

Ottavio, the youngest

Carlo slowly cut the seams off the suit he was measuring. As soon as the last one was fitted perfectly, Ottavio Prodigi, the man wearing it, turned around, and admired himself in the mirror.

"Don't I look like a dream?" He said to Carlo. "I don't know what I would do without you." He walked up to his clothier and butler and kissed the elderly man on the head.

"I look like a real banker. A man of status. Even better, a really handsome man of status," Ottavio said, and he wiggled his eyebrows at his mirror image.

"I can't deny that, sir," Carlo said.

"Ugh, I wish the employees had a clothier as good as you, Carlo. They look terrible. I met the man in charge of our banking branch, and without exaggerating, his suit was two sizes too big. If it were up to me, my first policy would be to refit every piece of clothing they had."

Carlo smiled. He enjoyed his boss's enthusiasm about their shared passion, and took the compliments at heart.

"I'm also going to have to invest in some decorative measures there. It looked so bare. All those colours don't fit with the classic rebirth theme I want to use. Those Romans really did have an eye for aesthetic."

"It's good to hear the visuals are being reconsidered. How was the fiscal situations?" Carlo asked. He was on a level with his employer where they could converse as friends.

"Ugh, I wouldn't even know," Ottavio said, as he laid down on his bed, and tossed a haircomb to his bald servant, "I looked at those, and they tried to explain it to me, but aside from the beautiful shimmer of gold, money leaves me cold. I'm just going to let them run their business, and I'll be responsible for design and setting behind a desk made of the most beautiful wood money can buy. I can see myself hopping by the jewelers we obtained and just stare at the pearls for a while, but other than that, I'm not really the money-type. Not like Gerardo was."

It hurt Carlo to hear Ottavio talk about his father in such a distant fashion. As much as he loved the boy, their father was probably the best man that had ever graced Venice with his existence, but for some reason his sons failed to recognize that.

"As long as you make sure that the people respect you, sir. That's how your father did it. Business is all build on respect. If either side lacks it, bad things may happen."

"Oh, stop trying to sound clever," Ottavio laughed as he ran his hand through his black hair.

Shak · Feb 6, 2016

Luciana Vitolo & Rowin Odo

When Life Gives You Grapes

What seemed to be a completed transaction was halted by a hesitant hand in the deal. The smoother of the two hands balled up and pulled away.

"Bread, again?" Luciana whined, clutching onto her money. The elderly lady who was handing her the loaf scoffed.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I was running a restaurant. Food isn't exactly an abundance down here girl. You take what I give or you get nothing." She hissed. Lucy was too engulfed in thought to react to the rather boisterous nudge she received in her back from a couple of frolicking teens. The teens wandered deeper into the building, dodging the sleeping human bodies that lay across the floor.

"C'mon Wanda, Bebe told me about that secret stash of yours." Lucy winked, much to the outrage of the old lady. Wanda grabbed the closest thing she could find. An old broom. Luciana was quick to vacate her position, dodging not only the wooden broom, but most of the projectile dust that flew off of it as well. She giggled mischievously, in knowing that she'd captured herself an audience. Again she turned to face Wanda, making a begging gesture with everyone watching. The old woman wore the fiercest scowl Luciana had ever seen. She knew she'd be paying for this later, but she really needed a drink. With all of her newly acquired wealth stolen from under her nose by people she thought she could trust, Luciana was understandably stressed, and couldn't afford anything that wasn't free. Wanda was her only option. "You don't wanna make a scene, do you?" She beamed pleadingly.

"Get inside you little shit." The woman said sternly, slamming down the brunt of her broom. "You talk, you're dead." She hissed, as Lucy skipped gleefully past her. She took a few glances around before following the girl through the curtain, and slamming the door behind her. "Aren't you just the bane of my happiness?" Wanda sighed, as she walked down the stairs behind Lucy, who had already started scanning the bottles that were displayed neatly across the shelves. "Don't get too excited, you aren't getting my goodstuff." Her stern warning was only met by giddy laughter, as the young woman quickly flicked her nose away from the lid of one of the barrels of fermenting liquid that sat beneath the shelves. Luciana's grin grew.

Back at the top of the stairwell and behind the curtain that the two had disappeared behind... the front door opened slowly and a man of a peculiar dress sense for the area stepped inside. The brim of his hat was just low enough to cover his glassy lifeless eyes and all that could be seen was that signature cheeky grin. The odd patron gave an odd look, but he quickly turned it away... as if despite the fact that no eyes followed were shown, the gaze of Rowin Odo pierced right back into any onlooker with the indignity to stare. A little girl sat behind the corner while her Granny sat walked around downstairs. "Sorry Mista! My Nana's busy with somethin' downstairs... But I can get ya a drink if ya want while ya wait?" Rowin tipped his hat a little lower and kicked one of a three legged stools legs, causing it to spin on the spot until he stopped it in a more favourable position and gently placed his rear upon the ripped and frayed cushion that aimed to give the illusion of some minor comfort in the harshest of times.

"What a well spoken little one you are, so confident as well. I say, you must be little Lily. Is that an assumption of the more correct sort?" The girl seemed a little surprised at Rowin knowing her name. Yet his demeanor and silly way of speaking put her slightly at ease. So in her innocence she gave a shy nod and a smile.

"T-that's right Mista! I'm Lily, my Nana owns this place." Rowin nodded in understanding following the girls comment and reached a hand slowly into his jacket. After a moment or two of rummaging, a single string came from the hem, a doll wrapped lightly in its tendril as it dropped the toy into the hand of its master. It was a small fabric doll, made out of cheap but sturdy cotton... water proof too, a very important quality to be made available in Venitian toys, especially those that would normally absorb and retain liquid.

"Now my dear, your Grandmother was kind enough to give me a spot of tea on the assurance of my good faith... despite my lack of money to repay her. So I made a promise to replace something of yours... Something that was recently lost." Rowin slowly held the doll out to the girl, whose eyes were wider than they had surely ever been.

"T-this is like them fancy dolls that the kids from the big families got! Y-you mean this is for me?!" Rowins grin widened slightly as he plopped the toy into the childs hands and shrugged casually.

"Well I certainly didn't make it for myself now did I?"

The girls excitement finally took over and she jumped down from the counter, spinning in circles and holding the toy in the air above her head. Her smiles and joyous squeals were heart-warming and many of the patrons of the location shot Rowin a grin full of kindness and understanding. Truly a book could not be judged by its cover. In response to the squealing and joyous occasion however, an elderly woman was trudging up the stairs. Wondering what all of the comotion was about.

Wanda poked her head from behind the curtain, wondering what in the hell was making all that noise. Her annoyed scowl was quickly turned to a soft smile, at the sight of her young grandaughter dancing gleefully with a new doll in her hands. It'd been a long time since she'd seen such a smile come from the child. How could she miss the eccentric man proudly watching over the girl? Upon noticing him, Wanda approached the man with haste. She quickly disposed of the lingering tear in her eye, before alerting him.

"I take it this was your doing?" She grinned, struggling to mask her emotional uncertainty

"My doing? Yes I suppose I did do this do my Dear." Rowin continued to flash his trademakr grin as he watched the young girl dance with glee. Her own grin almost rivalled his own, which was always something he liked to see. "I did owe you for that cup of tea correct? You even had my favourite blend and promises are promises."

"Yes, of course." The woman responded flatly, finally managing to regain some composure. For a few more seconds, she enjoyed the innocent joy of her orphaned granddaughter, before remembering that she had another orphaned young lady waiting for her downstairs. "Could I offer you another?" She smiled, placing her hands behind her back. Rowin responded with a raise of the eyebrow, though his smile never faltered and any change of expression was hidden by that hat as always.

"Do I have to make another doll?"

"No, no. You could say this one's complimentary." She waved dismissively. "If you'd just wait inside, I think I need to go get some more tea bags from my storage room." She already half made her way down the stairs before she even finished her sentence. Rowin casually ran his fingers along the bartop as she left, wondering why she had told him such a lie after such generosity.

After all, he could see the teabags behind the bar from there.

***

Downstairs, Wanda glared at what appeared to by an slightly intoxicated young woman grinning at her from behind the large tankard in her hands.

"Now, before y-" Luciana began, gargling slightly as she barely managed to stop herself choking on the alcohol she was, so quickly ingesting.

"Can it!" The older woman ordered, prompting an abrupt stop from Lucy. "I have someone upstairs who may be able to help you with your..." She scanned her with her eyes, before continuing. She took a moment to consider the most appropriate term. "situation, but you need to appear at least reasonably presentable and worth his time." She scowled. It was clear to her that in her current state, Luciana would be completely worthless. Though, she was asking for trouble when she made the decision to leave the girl alone in a room full or barrels and bottles of liquor.

"Ooooh, you found me a family?" Despite the stench of alcohol, Wanda couldnt help but chuckle at the innocent gleam that resonated from the young woman's response.

"No, unfortunately not. What I have found instead is someone who seems like they could use an extra pair of hands. Someone for you to work for." The excitement visibly drained from the girls face. She almost seemed to sober up on the spot. "Look. In this life, you either need to marry rich or work. With the way you're going about things, you arent going to attract a rich man, and soon you'll be on the streets. There's always an easy way to catch a man's attention." Wanda sighed, looking away from the girl as she finished giving her advice. Luciana slowly placed her arm protectively over her chest. It wasnt the first time Wanda had suggested she try to seduce a wealthy family head, but as times got more desperate, the teasing suggestions were turning into genuine directions.

"I-I'd like to meet this person." Luciana sighed, still slurring her words slightly.

***

The duo emerged through the curtain, one considerably more satisfied with the conclusion of the conversation than the other.

"Mr. Odo, this is Luciana Vitolo." After giving the formal introduction, Wanda glared at Luciana, waiting for her to conclude the formalities. What followed, could only be described as an ungraceful curtsy of the clumsiest fashion, with the drunk girl stumbling over her own feet multiple times before gaining a solid stance.

"Pleasure t-to make you aquainnnnnntance, sir." She wavered. With her best effort, she managed to break a smile and seem somewhat pleasant in front of the man she hoped would be her future employer. "I was hoping...hoping you'd take me on..." Still curtsying, the drunk girl kept her head bowed, waiting for a response to her unfinished sentence.

Rowin tilted his head in a somewhat surprised gesture. Not tea, but an intoxicated young lady. Any other man would surely have accepted the young specimen with great glee, rushing off to some half-rate bedroom or even an alley where nobody could see. Rowin, however, was not any other man... actually he wasn't a man at all, not even slightly, he looked like one... somewhat... under certain lighting conditions... so long as his eyes were covered. "Take you on to what? Take you onto a boat? A bicycle? A magical flying airship that remains the stuff of legend?" Rowin gently stood from the bar stool and leaned over the counter to examine the tipsy lass before him. "Drunk, reaking of alcohol... and you're going for a job interview? Oh my, throw in some cheese and crackers and Sheog might just fall in love..." Rowin idly bemused as he stroked a nonexistant beard that dangled two feet down from his chin.

He turned his attention to Wanda, his eyebrow raised slightly. "I don't usually take strays... so I assume this is a special case?" He glanced up and down the woman once more, there was more than just a drunken mess to this girl, she seemed distressed. There was sadness in her eyes, she was young and spry and yet she was driven to this pathetic state of intoxication and desperation wherein she appealed to a random stranger in a poverty ridden hospice. Perhaps... The Deamillia family could be of assistance to her after all.

"Be more specific then Dear." Rowin said with a slightly more serious tone, his voice giving the impression that he was making considerations. "You tell me what it is you want from me at this very moment... and perhaps something can be arranged."

Luciana's eyes widened. Had she been defeated already? What exactly was it she was applying for? Had Wanda even told her. She shook her head gently in a vain attempt to shake off the state of inebriation she still carried.

"I'd like to work." She sighed, avoiding eye contact with the sophisticated man. She wasnt sure if he'd picked up on her strange behaviour, and had no intention of risking it. "I'd like for you to take me on as your protégé." Her head remained bowed, but her resolve was high. If it was now or never, she knew exactly what choice she was going to make.

Rowin eyed the woman curiously for a few moments, then he shifted his eyes to Wanda with a sort of aloof expression, only to then shift back to Lucianna once more. "Protégé you say? Hoo ha hey... hmm..." There seemed to be a split second where Rowin would turn the girl down, however, in a another instant his face was filled with glee. The grin he usually bore was wider than ever and he reached across the counter to quickly grab Luciana by the hand and shake it a little too vigorously. "Wonderful! Someone to do all the things that normally I would not like to do. Not only that but I can talk to you, when my fears are overtaking my mind and I need companionship. We'll be like two peas in a very large, waterlogged pod covered in walkways and people. Wonderful." He quickly pulled his hand away and nodded with a sort of resolution, before turning to Wanda. "Is she yours? When can she start?"

Luciana's eye's widened as her hand was yanked from her waist and violently shook. She tried her best to wear comfortable smile. She wasnt sure if she'd used the term protégé wrong. She looked back at Wanda for some kind of reassurance, but the elder woman seemed more engaged in her eccentric customer's enquiries.

"She's free to start whenever she's ready. If you have somewhere for her to stay she can probably start as soon as she can move her things." She responded flatly, dismissing Luciana's reluctant pleas. "She's yours to do as you please."

Rowin clapped his hands lightly and his grin only widened at his business partners words. His hat swayed a little to the side, but it was far too snug to fall off of his head. "Lodging? Is that all? Well I own the most darling little shoppe in one of the smaller business districts in the city. Doubles as a house too... you see I apecialize in making toys." He put a hand to his chin and gave Luciana one more, quick, pensive look over. "Aye, you'll certainly do... though I have to wonder if you're the type I should be revealing the more... risky... elements of my work to."

With one more thoughtful nod he gave a flippant gesture of the hand and a light bow. "I neglected to give a proper introduction, apologies for the informality. Rowin, Rowin Odo. The pleasure is all ours I'm sure. Now then, up and at 'em and don't waste any time. Two streets to the right, cross the canal, key is under the mat and I expect you there by evening. If you're late it'll look terrible for a first impression... especially since I'm not counting this little interaction due to your, well, unsavoury smell and clear intoxication." He gave a slight click of his heels as he turned, accepting the woman into his home and sanctum on the greatest of whims only proved to further his insanity... though she would not realize this as she knew not what he hid there.

"Lovely seeing you again Wanda, I do hope the little one enjoys her toy... and you, Lucianna wasn't it?" He grinned before turning and falling backwards out the door.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

As he fell seemingly onto his back and the door closed behind him just before impact... there was no thud as he hit the boardwalk outside. A more curious patron opened the door to see the man upon his back. However, Rowin Odo was nowhere to be found.

Dusty · Feb 7, 2016

Vignali Mansion

Gabriel scowled, his earlier mood soured by the relatively ineffective day he'd had since this morning. Apparently tracking down this "Pixie" was going to be harder than he had thought. He had looked up a few of his less honorable contacts throughout the cities, but they had given them little enough in the ways of information. Mostly things that he had already known; the Pixie was likely a Fae, or at least was quite young, and most of the families seemed to have a dislike for her. From what he knew of her, she had probably stolen from numerous powerful families in the city, which he found odd. She seemed to have no distinct loyalty to any one family in particular, which meant she was probably selling her goods to a broker. But even then it would be hard, it wouldn't take much for several families to dig around and find out who her broker was. Whoever he was the broker must have been good to stay in the graces of as many families as possible. He knew that a number of families would gladly kill men like that, so there must be some sort of agreement or alliance somewhere, but where…

He was snapped out of his thoughts as the gondola bumped up against the small pier. Gathering his belongings together he stepped out of the boat, then flipped the man who had steered him across half the city a single gold coin. The pilot of the boat caught the coin in his hand, then smiled at Gabriel. "Thank ye sir," he said, smiling a buck toothed smile. Brother would would scold me, he thought watching the gondola slide away through the canals leaving a wake spreading gently out behind it. He had paid well over twice the fare for the trip, but it had been a long day, he was tired, and at that point in time much too lazy to be bothered counting out the exact change for the gondola driver. Gabriel's brother had always been stingy with money, meticulously counting every coin to be sure he could maximize profits, minimize risks.

Shouldering his bag he pushed open the iron gate that served as the side entrance to his family's estate, and through the small garden that took up a small fifteen by fifteen foot corner of the house. Even having a garden was an impressive display of wealth in the city. Space was severely limited, but having a garden required bringing in dirt as well as plants by boat. Gabriel nodded politely to the gardener who was tending a rose bush, who nodded back in turn, before striding over to the door to enter the main house. It creaked open on rusty hinges, and he once again made a mental note to tell one of their servants to clean and lubricate the door. Rust was bad enough in the city as it was, being built above water, and all things metal needed to be carefully maintained. At the very least, he figured, any thief trying to enter through that door would wake half the house.

He snuck through the house, doing his best to take the servant's corridors on the way to his room, hoping to avoid his two siblings. His brother thought little of Gabriel's religious nature, criticizing him for following a "dying faith praying to a dead god". His sister thought even less and worse of it. Fortunately he saw neither of them throughout the house. Considering the shift in power going on throughout the city at the moment, he wasn't surprised. They were probably both out conducting secret meetings, doing their best to snap up every enterprise they could, making deals to increase the influence and power of the Vignali family.

After depositing his pack in his small and mostly modest room, he changed into more comfortable clothes. He had worn his chainmail during the interrogation this morning, and hadn't taken it off in his journey through the city, knowing his ventures would take him into the more unsafe areas of town. Few were fools enough to challenge another man in broad daylight who was carrying a large sword on his hip. That being said, many in the city would be more than willing to bury a dagger in his back to steal said sword. He pulled off the modified hauberk which reached down to his waist and sighed in relief. While it had saved his life on many occasion, it was hot, it was heavy, and wearing it through the day was a miserable affair. Pulling on softer and more comfortable clothes felt divine after the past day. Satisfied with his attire, he opened his door and strode back into the hall, his boots clicking faintly on the polished stone floor. It was time to find The Spider.

He found the man a handful of minutes later, sitting alone at the dining room table, eating quietly from a plate of cold food. He always felt on edge around the quiet and stoic man. His cold demeanor and apparent lack of emotions made him seem as hard as marble, and his cold and meticulous way of speaking supported that. But even more than that was the fact that he knew things. Gabriel confessed his sins to God everyday, but it seemed that Pierre was the one who was keeping the list, not only on him but on every man and woman in Venice.

Clearing his throat he pulled out a chair to the left of the man and sat down, allowing his body to sink into a relax into the seat. At least, as much as he could relax around Pierre. As he was about to speak, a servant softly came up behind him asking if he wanted anything to eat or drink. Irritatedly he waved her away, then changed his mind, asking for a glass of water. As the servant hurried off, Gabriel said to the man, "Evening Matera, how's the steak?" It was a poor attempt at conversation, he knew. But he didn't want to really discuss anything until all the servants had left the room. He didn't trust them. He knew each of them personally and all were watched and checked often, but you never know… The woman returned with Gabriel's water, then curtsied professionally and took her leave of the room, leaving the two of them alone at the table. He waited for the Spider to speak, knowing the man would respond when he was ready, and not until then.

Jauntier · Feb 16, 2016

Gualterott "Il Gaudente" Cancharello
Thirties || Male || Ghoul
_______________________________________________________________

I. He Wore Bags Of Flesh

It did not matter how much of this putrid gall forcibly erupted from his mouth, as he was always in excess. With no living heart to pump through him a more pleasing temperament, Hippocrates himself could not deny all the melancholy it brought upon the creature. He was not a true man to have a favorable nature, he supposed. He only looked like a man, craving the beauty of man, the feeling of man, the lucid living of man. And yet, he was some vile mimicker, and so he would always be cursed to swell with black bile to squeeze out of him like the juice of rotted fruit, and suffer the depression of stealing from the thing he wanted most to be.

On hand and knee, doubled over a pot of iron that steamed with gasses of the miry contents he had just expelled, he retched one final time, letting the thick substance pour like burned, rancid porridge from his mouth. He was sure to keep his gullet relaxed and open with his head hung, so that the flow would not roll off the tongue and burn off its more delicate skin. What seemed like the last of it dribbled out, and he hacked a wad into the pot, the trace taste of bile bitter to him. The wretched odor was mangled with the masking musk of his own perfume. He stood and drew in a great, rank breath before letting it loose, and glanced into the mirror, meeting his own hazel glare--a glare he had stolen in every sense. He reviewed himself, watching as he ran his calloused fingers through his short, dark hair, down his somewhat kinked nape, and over his broad neck, onto the tall collar of his green smock. It was there that his reflection met the frame. Finding himself satisfactory, he reached out to his side and picked up a blank volto mask from his nightstand, fixing it to his face. The mask covered it wholly, an expressionless mold of wax cloth with minimal features, as basic a structure of a face it could be, fastened with ribbon securely behind his head. Masks were his only assurance for a constant appearance, the only thing that could be accountable for familiarity from a creature who snatched only the most choice of visages. From a small jar beside the pot, he removed its lid and liberally dusted the top of the vile mess in a coat of ground iris root, to help mask the stench. Replacing the jar afterwards, he had now finished his business. As he pushed through the oak doors that gated his bedding chambers, he had his sights to the wooden stairway before him, plated in white light by the afternoon sun as it flooded through the windows, his intention to descend into the illusion that this time, it was not into his own madness.

His rather spacious villa was an artful blend of stone and wood, with plasters of stucco over the ceiling and walls for ornate damask patterns and flourish trim. He could afford a home with two stories and several rooms. He, though, could not afford servants of his own. Not that money was a problem, but that there was the constant temptation to purchase them for the reaping. Bodies that always tempted him with the prospect of a fruitful harvest, indentured for just that private purpose. He personally wanted to keep his home his sanctuary, where he could lock himself away and be allowed the courtesy of suffering a loose kind of spiritual chastity, a false sense of penance in private before he would step across the threshold and give in to his sinful nature. Everything was such a shallow farce. As the leather sole of his boots knocked against stair and made his presence known throughout the acoustics, he had wished for a glass of dry wine to get the taste of chyme out of his mouth.

"Signore," greeted a voice. "I am glad you returned. I hope you have not caught corruption, Signore." So light, flowing with an older youth's vitality. The masked man leaned on the jamb of the open doorway, across from him some ways on a wooden stool sat a young man, returning the gaze. He too was dressed in a smock, though it hung generously over his clothes, as it was loaned to him. Before the youth was a small table, littered with the shavings of wood, as in his hands he held a small chisel and block of partially-carved alder. His eyes were bright. His hair was fragrant with the smell of white whine and honey, anointed upon his head for locks of the same blend of color. His fair skin was pink at the cheeks and neck, an almost taunting reminder that he was bursting with warm, fresh blood.

"Perhaps a bad piece of fruit, but not so rotted as to corrupt me wholly," replied the man. Even as his sonorous voice tried to keep a distant tone, something softer bled from underneath, as behind his mask he could not help but keep a smile. He let off the doorway and approached, the sound of his steps against uncovered limestone even sharper than on the flight of wood before. The youth kept his eyes on his tutor, peering into the eyes of the blank mask, still intent on seeking after a year of association some shred of identity behind it. He was understanding of the reason the man gave as to why he kept his face hidden, but as is the nature of young men, he could never be content with the unknown, especially not after all this time. "Niccolo," the man continued, staring over the lad's shoulder at the beginnings of his work, "I was away for but several minutes. Alas, it seems you had no more touched your work."

"I apologize, Signore," the youth said, and he lowered his eyes to the wood in his hand. "I had waited for your return so that you may further instruct me." The admittance of submission stirred something within the man, and he grinned behind small paraffin lips. He leaned in closer, his cheek now level with the boy's as he spoke in a rumbling tone, the stench of his breath thankfully contained within his mask and his cologne a plume of invigorating fragrance surrounding.

"For months you have visited me, and for months you have built your sovereignty. But lo, here you be, so strangely to revert? I speak to the demon who snatched Niccolo's body!" The tease had the boy let out a chortle of a laugh, shaking his head.

"No! I suppose I did not tell you a true truth, Signore."

"A true truth? What truth is also untrue? Have you caught enlightenment or grippe?" Again with the teasing. The man laid his broad hand over Niccolo's brow as if to take his temperature for feverish grippe, and it only elicited more boyish laughs. The youth's skin was supple and soft even on his brow, not creased in the lightest from neither old years nor poor temper. For this impostrous creature, it was just another excuse to have touched.

With a smile, Niccolo countered, "A truth that is only half true! I confess: I let myself imagine." The tutor urged him to confess further, letting his hands settle on the boy's shoulders. "I imagined that I too wore a mask, and I donned the finest drapes--bejeweled and laced and lined with ermine, and all the girls would fawn over me and seek to be my true love, but the Church would not let me marry them all." The man knew why the boy spoke of this, but he feigned not to.

"Ho! I suppose you are at the season where you find the young maidens mellow, but to marry them all?" He stood up straight and made a great flourish with his hands. "Now I know this is not Niccolo, as how could he be so lecherous!"

"Oh, it was but a lark, Signore!" Niccolo beamed, and again he had laughter. There was a touch more color in his cheeks now, a reminder that he was succulent with blood. "I aim not to be so sinful. But it is true that as of late, I have had the mind to make believe that I would be thought handsome and sought after, if I too wore a mask outside. I was told once that girls like to muse of men they do not know, but think to know."

The man scoffed. "Women are an entanglement of many things."

Niccolo set down his chisel and block, resting his hands in his lap as he peered up at the towering man. "But is there not an attraction in the unknown?"

"If you imagine there is," he plainly stated. Now, he crossed his arms. "Why do you ask these things, Niccolo?"

"You wear a mask, Signore, and I think that makes you interesting. I want to be just as interesting."

"My mask makes me peculiar, Niccolo," he grunted. "Do not confound the two. A young man of your likeness, hiding his comely features behind a veil will only lead the women to muse if he is unsightly, not handsome. Do not like I do. You have not a reason, let alone mine."

The youth felt rebuked, and so he lowered his gaze. He parted his lips to say something, but gave it another moment's thought, moistening lips with the flick of his tongue before he posed a cautious question. "Was what I thought... foolish?"

"No," the man replied. He unfolded his arms and laid his hand on the boy's firm shoulder, giving it an assuring squeeze, feeling for himself the tenderness of muscle lining thinly over bone. "It was merely wishful. Now, I want you to continue forming your craft. You have but to the top of the hour, and soon the three-quarters bell will chime."

Niccolo lifted his eyes to the featureless face. While the mask was designed to provide no comfort, the voice behind it was human and forthright, a true comfort to him. With a proper smile, he nodded, and resumed his work, picking up his single chisel and the block of alder whose corner was only partially carved in the beginnings of a face. The masked man stood over him, guiding and reminding him, pointing a blunt finger to different nooks and curves in the contour for suggestion and refinement. They talked as well about little things, things they had noticed here and there. The complement of yet another two new pots of gillyflowers, Niccolo had not noticed, now stood beside the fanciful novelty that was a Romanesque daybed to the west of him. A bright tapestry of an unusually beautiful forest hanged itself behind, a clear reference to Eden. To the fireplace on the north wall, an elaborate, golden turret clock sat upon the mantle, and struck merry notes to signify the hour was thirteen with three quarters past. The rest of the sitting room was decorated handsomely with framed oil paintings of nature and biblical stories, headless statuettes of the human figure, and a furniture collection crafted of fine, varnished woods.

As he chipped away at the edges of the block, Niccolo had said to the masked man that he would like to be like him one day. The man only laughed, but he did not thank the boy. Instead, he pinched the youth on the side of his neck, and as he rubbed the taut skin a blushing red between his two fingers, he said, "I would like to live in skin as fine as yours, one day."

The Status Quo:

Spoiler: Appearance

Spoiler: Artifacts (2)

Spoiler: Associations

Erewhile, A Digest:

A plain-masked Gualterott, after having to excuse himself to forcibly vomit out the excess bile his cursed body generates, leaves his chambers to return to his guest downstairs. Sixteen-year-old Niccolo, who has been visiting Gualterott for a year now learning how to sculpt, is in the sitting room, and greets the man. In his hand are a chisel and a block of wood that is starting to look like part of a man's face. When Gualterott notices Niccolo has not touched his block since he excused himself, Niccolo admits that he was thinking about wearing a mask out in public like Gualterott, assuming that being a mysterious figure would have girls gushing over him. Gualterott tells Niccolo that wearing a mask daily is not something to romanticize, reminding Niccolo again that he wears his mask to hide his identity, not for the imagined glamour of it. All the while, he cannot help but notice Niccolo's features, as Gualterott seems especially afflicted today with the desire to idolize the appearance of humanity, something he constantly seeks to emulate. After assuring Niccolo that the boy was not a fool for thinking these things, they resume their work before Niccolo must leave. Gualterott lets slip a cryptic compliment to Niccolo that he would want to live in skin like his.

Margot · Feb 20, 2016

Once Upon A Time…

The evening sky had been full of stars for several hours and Marco couldn't get his boys Carlo and Andrea to sleep. Their mother had joined those very stars a month ago to date and he was having a difficult time getting them to bed. While he would clean up his shop and prepare for the next day, Marlena would lay in bed with the boys and tell them stories so grand their minds would race off into dream land and they would be sound asleep by the time he got home. He ached for her on nights like this. He didn't know how to connect with his boys the way she had, his stories just weren't good enough for these restless, grieving kids. He told them about the only thing he knew: the store.

"Do you know what I do at the store? You'll be helping me there very soon." Carlo shifted around and rubbed his eyes, not responding. Andrea pouted and very faintly nodded his head.

"I have to make sure we have every color an artist is going to use for their painting. We need just three colors to make all the other colors: blue, red and yellow"

"What about orange?" Carlo asked, still in in a solemn mood. "Or green?" Andrea echoed.

"You mix red and yellow to make orange, and blue and yellow to make green" Marco explained, relieved they were following along. They had been speaking in two or three word sentences for the past month, but he took what he could get out of them.

"But there's one very special color and that's black. It's all the colors mixed together and it's very important to the shop. Every week we get a shipment of pigments to the store for me to sell. In every box of pigment we get, there must be black. That will be your job from now on, I want you to always check for the black pigment."

Carlo and Andre looked at each other and shrugged. It was getting late and pigments didn't quite meet their standards for bedtime stories, but they eventually went to sleep that night. Sleeping would come easy again as the years went on.

The Job

"It's not here" Carlo growled. He was standing amidst four boxes of supplies that had been delivered that morning. In one there were a handful of brushes – each a different size, another contained several oils, and in the third and fourth there were pigments of different colors. Carlo kept shifting around in the boxes trying to locate the one color he needed.

"What are you talking about, I checked when they were first delivered this morning. There were two deliveries of the black pigment." Andrea walked over and studied the scene Carlo had begun to make. "The least you could have done is put the other stuff out on the shelves, now you're just making a mess."

Carlo glanced around the room, ignoring his brother's comment. The storage room appeared as it always had. It was cramped with minimal light. Boxes sat on the floor, their contents not yet placed in the storefront for the customers to buy. Their father preferred to have too much inventory than not enough. His business partners and customers loved him for it, but as the years went on the volume of merchandise got overwhelming and now just seemed impractical. The room stank of paint.

He moved closer to Andrea, "Did someone get in here? Nothing looks out of place, but how else did they both go missing? And not any of the other colors? That's pretty suspect to me."

"It's possible. My money would be on someone from the church, but I don't know why they would take the stash and leave us alone. You think they'd make sure to burn us and send us on our merry little ways to hell to pay for our sins."

"And our regular customers just buy the stash. Has anyone new come into the shop as of late? I don't recall anyone out of the ordinary." Carlo let out a sigh and kicked one of the boxes. "We'll have to find the person, group, whatever. At least we know where to look."

Andrea laughed and pat his brother on the back, "artists can't paint without getting their hands a little
dirty."

On their way out of the shop Carlo made sure to lock the door. His pigment stained hands on the knob, he checked again for good measure.

"We had one job, man".

jombii · Feb 27, 2016

Location:
Vignali Mansion Dining Room

The silence of the room was disturbed by a coughing sound and the scraping of a chair. A maid approached the two of them and the newcomer asked for a glass of water, after considerable thinking. Pierre Marco recognized the voice to belong to Gabriel Vignali, the son of the second Vignali brother. Pierre Marco prefers to interact with the family of the youngest brother as the second brother was known to have too close ties with the church. It manifested in Gabriel of course.

"Evening Matera, how's the steak?" A long silence followed the question. Pierre Marco took his time in eating his steak and was silent, waiting for the servants to leave the room. Pierre Marco knew each of the servant's secrets and had no reason to worry if they overhear Gabriel and Pierre Marco speaking to each other. He just didn't want any unwanted attention.

When he was sure that the two of them was alone, Pierre Marco asked him a question. "So you have not yet captured the fae yet?" Pierre Marco asked, his eyes not leaving the food he was eating. He knew that Gabriel was in pursuit of a certain fae but Pierre Marco deems it to be a fool's errand. There were larger fish in the river to catch. Pierre Marco did not stop a beat and certainly did not wait for Gabriel's answer. While he may be loyal to the Vignali family, he is not required to like all of them and Gabriel's extremist ideals with the church is not something Pierre Marco likes to delve with.

"There's an exchange of artifacts a week from now, in the great house of the Vongola," Pierre Marco said. "Those rings are rumored to contain very great power and bringing it to the Vignali family would be great. We will be intercepting the exchange. For now, we gather information. Leave that to me. I'll summon you when I'm done." Pierre Marco is not comfortable sharing the information with Gabriel but he is a Vignali and possible successor. He's qualified. "I hope it's not too much of a hassle to you."

Yes, Pierre Marco is technically a Vignali servant but his influence on the family is too great. He hoped Gabriel realized that and not rudely call him by his last name ever again.

Venice​

Groc · Mar 4, 2016

Venice

Crescent

Giovanni Calvierri held his lantern aloft as he moved through the basement, piercing the dark shadows with its light. He made his way to the back of the cellar, where a simple wooden door was set into the wall. The room inside was once his family's morgue, where the dead were prepared for burial. Now, a corpse rested inside the room that refused to be buried, polluting his great house with its foul presence. He entered the room, focusing his attention on the coffin sitting on the dais in the center.

"Wake up, Cynthia! I have need of you!" The coffin didn't respond, and Giovanni scowled in annoyance. "I said wake up!"

"I heard you, Master." Her voice came from behind him, and only his mental discipline kept him from jumping in surprise. He did stiffen, though, and Cindy's eyes darkened to red as a grin spread across her face.

He turned, composing himself immediately. "I expected you to be in your coffin." He noticed her eyes, his free hand moving to his chest, where a silver crucifix was concealed.

Cindy merely smiled, her eyes fading to blue once more. "That's why I'm not there. How can I help you, my Lord?" By playing to his ego, she hoped to avoid suffering through one of his turnings.

Giovanni let his hand drop away from his neck, though it went into a pocket instead. "We've received a request. A local jeweler, Giuseppe something or other, runs one of the finest shops in Venice. The Prodigi family were patrons of his, and their influence kept him wealthy, healthy, and safe. But now..."

"Someone's moving on him. Or is it some thing? You wouldn't come all the way to see me unless it was from my part of town." Cindy hopped onto her coffin, idly kicking her legs as they dangled off the side. "So what's the situation?"

"Another group tried poaching his business. He naturally refused, claiming he was still loyal to the Prodigi's, even during this 'moment of weakness'. That night one of his workers went missing. They found the man dead the next morning." He paused (Cindy presumed it was for dramatic effect), setting his lantern on her coffin. "And someone had taken bites out of him, going after the tender cuts."

That got Cindy's attention. "He was eaten? And yet you say some one , so human-like teeth? Van... I'd say you've got a ghoul."

Giovanni scowled at the nickname. "I surmised the same from the report. Apparently, they hoped to intimidate Giuseppe, but instead he went to the Church for protection. And the Church came to us."

Cindy hopped off her coffin, going to one of her shelves to rearrange her knick knacks. "And you're coming to me for advice so your lads don't get ate, aye? I could tell you some tips, but ghouls are damned difficult."

Giovanni grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. She glared at him, but he was wearing a scowl to match. "I 'came to you' because I need something of equal power to a ghoul. Or ten, if our intelligence is correct. My Hunters are not prepared. Are you?" He shoved a mask into her hands, presumably the object he had concealed in his pocket. "You have my permission to leave the basement, and are invited into the house itself. Go see the blacksmith before you leave. I've instructed him to forge you a proper sword, instead of that antique you use to practice."

With that, he left Cindy's room, leaving the doors open as he left. Cindy looked at the mask in confusion, but was ecstatic to finally leave the musty old cellar Giovanni kept her confined to.

Sweet Dreams · Mar 13, 2016

"Family Matters"

Aurelio made sure to keep his steps measured and slow as he headed towards the family dining room. To all the world he looked as though he were simply taking a stroll or otherwise engaging in some routine activity. His straightened back was the only visible hint that perhaps something was not quite as it seemed, for he usually possessed a somewhat hunched posture. No casual onlooker could possibly know of the sweat gathering on his palms, or the way that his heart thudded loudly in his ears as wheels turned back and forth in his mind.

As Aurelius drew closer to his destination, he began to restlessly readjust his clothes, tugging on his hat and irritably brushing at his shoulders. Somehow, despite his best efforts, there always appeared to be a snowfall of dandruff everywhere that he went. On arriving, he paused outside the rich oak door, took a deep breath, and calmly opened it and stepped inside the room.

His older brother and younger sister both looked up from their lunch, seated across from each other at the head of the long table. Everything in the room was obviously crafted from fine, expensive materials, from the mahogany of the table and chairs, to the deep velvet cushions and drapes. A chandelier hung suspended above the table, unlit at this time of day. It all served to give off a warm, lavish feel, undercut only by the tense atmosphere that seemed to always be prevalent in the house.

"Ah, Aurelio, come join us-" the older brother began, his arm sweeping out to indicate a chair.

"Tonio, I have news." Aurelio cut him off abruptly, shooting their younger sister a meaningful look.

Tonio caught on immediately and sighed. "How about if you take your food to your room, Marcella?" he suggested.

The corners of Marcella's mouth tightened. By the weary look on Tonio's face, it was clear that an old discussion would be rehashed. "How about you go ahead and discuss whatever it is that you were going to discuss? I happen to be a part of this family too," she said.

"This is men's business, Marcella," said Tonio, a warning clear in his voice. "It's no place for a girl-"

"A woman."

"-A girl like you to try and involve yourself in," Tonio continued. Marcella's eyes flashed but Aurelio stepped in before she could retort.

"This is important and we don't have the time. Marcella, take your food and leave." His tone brooked no argument and he didn't even look in her direction when she stormed off, slamming the door closed in as unladylike a manner as she could.

Tonio sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "What is it?"

"The head of the Prodigi family is dead."

If Tonio had been holding a wine glass, it would have been dropped to the ground and shattered. As it was, a moment of silence hung in the room before Tonio leaned back in his seat and licked his lips nervously.

"You're sure," he said, somewhat dumbly.

Aurelio raised his eyebrow.

For some time, Tonio did nothing but stare at the little flake of dry skin in Aurelio's eyebrow as he tried to process the news. All he'd wanted was for his little inherited empire to keep running itself; it wasn't as though he cared at all for the job. But now it seemed like that was no longer possible.

"We need to do something, Tonio," Aurelio said sharply, his voice bringing his brother back to reality.

Tonio nodded, ignoring the new weight of lead in his stomach. "What do you propose?"

"We shouldn't be too focussed on the family's wealth," Aurelio began immediately. Unlike his older brother, Aurelio took on the obligation of running their father's enterprise willingly and was interested in expanding. "Now that we don't have to pay them off to turn a blind eye, we no longer have to expend almost ten percent of our net profit. What we need to concentrate on is to construct some warehouses; if we can increase production, we can hook more customers at an increasing rate and turn a higher profit."

Their 'customers' were, in a word, addicts. Their business was founded on the trade of addicting substances of all kinds, including the magical. Tonio tried to disassociate himself from the whole thing, for he found it somewhat distasteful.

Aurelio wasn't done. "I have also been thinking that this is a golden opportunity to partner with the Vermiglio family."

Tonio's eyebrows shot up at the mention of the name. "Don't they run…?"

"Brothels? Yes." As always, Aurelio did not beat around the bush. "Many of our customers already turn to the Vermiglio family in order to pay off their debts. As we both deal in a similar business, I believe that we could both stand to profit on improving our working relationship. If we could also corner the loan shark market, I believe that we would in fact be able to expand at an exponential rate."

The words were dry, but Tonio could imagine the squalor and suffering that they would bring. And the money.

So much money.

"I need to think it over," said Tonio.

Aurelio nodded. "Just remember; time is of the essence," he said, turning to leave. The door shut behind him with a note of finality that Tonio did not appreciate.

***

Half a city away, one old woman watered the plants on her windowsill. When she was done, she walked over to the pantry, passing a table with a peculiar little doll on it on her way. She checked the pantry, and what she saw made her frown.

Her supplies were getting low. She would have to make a shopping trip soon.

[h2][/h2]

[Other OPEN] Venice: Masks & Monsters [IC][M]

More options

Dusty

Ice1

[img]http://www.serebii.net/pokedex-xy/icon/712.pn

Shak

Luciana Vitolo

jombii

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=4][COLOR=#00b05

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[img]http://i.imgur.com/omi0jS3.gif[/img]

Oddball_

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Oddball_

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Where was your antennas again?

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some things are that simple

jombii

[FONT=Franklin Gothic Medium][SIZE=4][COLOR=#00b05

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Sweet Dreams

[I]are made of these~[/I]

"Family Matters"