Realistic or Modern 【𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣】

[geminiy]

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  intro

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  feeling good

  
  
  
  

  nina simone

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  opening.

  
  
  
  

  T

  he ground had barely thawed before Lorenzo Ludovici was buried six feet under, body ripped apart by the hail of bullets that had taken the lives of him and nineteen other men. Crime was never an easy life to live, Beatrice and Angelo had been warned more than once about the dangers of the family business, yet the danger was addictive.
  
  It held you.
  
  It pushed you.
  
  It gave you purpose.
  
  It killed you.
  
  After Lorenzo’s passing, Beatrice made herself a promise. The riches, the property, and the status left to her in her father’s will would not go to waste. With Angelo’s help, the once proud mansion of the Ludovici crime family was restored.
  
  One by one, members were found to fill in the empty ranks. Old friends, new associates, all talented and all trustworthy. Some were approached directly by Beatrice, meeting in dingy bars and quiet alleyways away from prying eyes. Others received mysterious letters, written in neat handwriting on wrinkled parchment, envelope sealed behind a red wax crest. A date, a time, a vague address.
  
  Those bold enough to follow through would have found themselves travelling down a long gravel driveway lined by tall oak trees. A tall mansion made of beautiful white brick encrusted with deep green ivy, large bay windows glistening in the mid afternoon sunlight, stood at the end of the driveway. This was a place of wealth, a place of mystery.
  
  The Ludovici crime family would return to its former wealth and power, Beatrice was sure of it. This meeting was simply the first step.
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
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  cast

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  cast.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  The Boss

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Beatrice

  
  

  Ludovici

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Consigliere

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Hunter

  
  

  Delaporte

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Underboss

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Adriana

  
  

  Mikhailov

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Capo of the Muscle

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Atlas

  
  

  Radcliffe

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Capo of the Socials

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Tex

  
  

  Lincoln

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Fighter

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Aoife

  
  

  Byrne

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Weapons

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Snake

  
  

  Summers

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Bodyguard

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Victor

  
  

  Abergil

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Intel

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Graham

  
  

  Byrne

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Torturer

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Thomas

  
  

  McCallum

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Spy

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Eleanor

  
  

  Kensies

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Socials Associate

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Mishka

  
  

  Charnov

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Doctor

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Angelo

  
  

  Ludovici

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Academic

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Scarlet

  
  

  Rogers

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  New Recruit

  
  
  
  

  
  

  Claudio

  
  

  Benavidez

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

intro

cast

blood in the water

a group

mafia

rp

time

1200h, noon

date

march 19, 1950

location

the ludovici mansion

status

closed

cs

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[geminiy]

Beatrice & Angelo

the ludovici siblings

the ludovici mansion

it is time

bea / angelo

interactions

whoever

As the sound of wheels disturbed the gravel up the driveway, Angelo found himself sighing into the porcelain cup of tea by his lips, a soft shake of his head disturbing the thin line of steam dancing up from the liquid.

“May I once again express my displeasure regarding this entire ordeal?” Angelo asked rhetorically, another string of words already leaving his lips before Beatrice even had a chance to open her mouth and politely ask her younger brother to shut up. “What do you really think inviting a bunch of strangers to our beloved family home will do? No one is going to look at the upholstery and think ‘wow, I would like to risk my life for these people I’ve never met’.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes from across the table, leaning back in her chair to peer out through the heavy cream curtains out to the driveway. “The upholstery has nothing to do with it. Hospitality and personability has everything to do with it. A maintained being and home creates a space of trust, security. Not that I would expect you to know about either,” Beatrice reached across the table and flicked a finger up on the bottom of Angelo’s cup, sending a thin stream of tea down Angelo’s chin and onto a quickly reactive hand, “some of us prefer not to spend our time in dingy basements with dead bodies.”

Angelo shot up from the table, shaking his now tea-covered hand off as he shot a scowl towards his sister. His pale cheeks had grown red, eyebrows furrowing as he rather aggressively placed his tea cup down on the saucer. Beatrice mimicked his movements in a display of outrageous dramatics, huffing loudly as Angelo fussed over the suit jacket clasped tightly across his chest.

“No, you’d much prefer to take life from others. Some of us have more class than that,” Angelo growled. Ah yes, petty arguing, all too familiar to the siblings. Beatrice held Angelo’s angry stare for a second before bursting out into chesty laughter, leaving Angelo growing angrier by the second.

“Oh please, we’re not about to argue the morality of grave robbing and cutting someone’s poor freshly dead Nonna open like a cut of prime rib over some fancy murder, are we?” Bea reached a hand out to pat Angelo’s shoulder, his spare hand reaching up to swat her away. “Look, just trust me on this, okay? I’ve found a good crew, we’ve cleaned this place up nicely. Pops would be proud of us both.”

Angelo stiffened at the mention of their father. The world around them — the walls, the property, the wealth, the paintings on the wall — was built entirely by him yet he was rarely a topic of conversation. Angelo preferred to leave him in the past, dead in the ground where he belonged instead of fussing about recalling fast fading memories to keep an image alive. Beatrice, she had a similar outlook. It was too painful to bring him up, too difficult to talk in the past tense. Sometimes saying nothing was saying too much, they both understood that. It was simply easier to forget, to move on, to drown themselves in work than to bring everything back up.

“Yes well,” Angelo rolled his shoulders before lifting a cigarette to his lips, Beatrice instinctively reaching down onto the dark spruce tabletop for the lighter to ignite the end, “you two always did have a strange affinity for befriending entire strangers. We saw where that got him, I’d hate to see you go down the same way.”

Beatrice flipped closed the lighter before the flame could reach this cigarette. “Right, because it was the people by his side that got him killed.” A soft, half-hearted laugh and a shake of Beatrice’s head. “Don’t be an idiot, Angel.”

“And you don’t be foolish, Beatrice.”

The two siblings stood there for a silent moment before Angelo reached for the lighter and ignited the end himself, handing the metal rectangle back to his sister.

A knock on the front door.

Beatrice looked back over to Angelo, hands reaching down to smooth out the hem of her skirt. “Do try and play nice, Angelo. Not everyone appreciates the Dead Man Walking energy you give off.”

Before Angelo could respond, Beatrice was gone and on her way to open the hulking front doors. Angelo followed behind, keeping a healthy distance between himself and his sister. When she pulled the front doors open, Angelo found himself wondering just how long this would take. After all, not everyone had time to play hostess all day.

“Come in,” Beatrice spoke, pulling the door open widely to reveal herself and her brother fully to the people on the other side, “I hope I can count that none of you were followed, yes?”

coded by natasha.

 

[Kitsune2202]

The Scarlet Letter

The Academic

Scarlet

mood

Excited, but cautious

outfit

Casual

location

Ludovici mansion

interactions

geminiy

Mentions

Bea, Angelo, everyone else

This was it. Bea was actually doing this. She was rebuilding the family and taking her rightful place at it's head. Scar had expected nothing less from one of the most resilient and powerful woman she knew both inside and out. None the less the fact still remained that it was an immense and complicated task to take on even with all the resources at hand for her friend. However she supposed that's where her and the others factored in. She wasn't rebuilding alone.

The first thing Scar did upon arrival back in Chicago was figuring out who outside of the siblings had survived the massacre. Then checking on her own family of course. Thankfully she'd kept all dealings on the low and none of them were the wiser including from any nosey neighbors. It's also the reason she agreed with staying at school till the end of term before coming back as to not look suspiciously connected. The ones responsible were still at large after all and who knew when they'd attempt to finish the job or tie up loose ends.

It might seem like she was overthinking or jumping the gun, but this was how Scar's mind had worked ever since she was a child. always needing or at least trying to be 10 steps ahead of those around her. She needed to anticipate anything and everything in order to figure out a contingency plan to help and aid those she loved. Where she couldn't physically be of much use, she worked her mind to it's limits.

So the only thing right now that was a bit frustrating with that ability? Unknown factors. Variables she couldn't account for and sadly there were quite a few as inevitably Bea was going to bring in new faces. Fresh faces that were hungry for what they knew Bea could provide. Weather that be power, money, safety, and everything in between.

Luckily she had plenty of time to maul over all this as she made her way to the old mansion. A route that felt so nostalgic now tinted with tragedy. Not that she'd show that ono her face. Not now, and not once she got there. This was supposed to be about moving on, and for Scarlet? There was still a lot she'd yet to let go of like an anchor holding her in place emotionally even if physically time has continued to tick away.

It took quite a few bus stops to get to her destination. Especially since she purposefully changed a few extra times for good measure to make sure there weren't any repeating faces in the crowd. Not many people cared where a colored girl went. However leaving the area of the city that blacks typically didn't go to outside of except for work did sometimes warrant unfriendly eyes. Which is why she also for good measure had a half full basket of clothes with her. Onlookers could take their pick of what job she was probably performing for the whites of the area. Maid, nanny, seamstress...whatever gave their mind peace and left her alone.

However even from her last stop it was quite the walk to the luxuriously renovated mansion. She hid the basket of clothes after about 10 minuets of walking somewhere she could grab it on her way back. She was used to walking so it wasn't a big deal to her the extra effort it took to get here. It was best she was safe then sorry for everyone involved.

Plus...she enjoyed the walk down memory lane. Reminded her of better days...

Times spent with the family that was now a distant memory as they all lie in the ground, and similar strolls she'd taken with Ray. More due to the weather and scenery then the actual route because he'd never come here with her of course.

Unconsciously her right hand clenched into a fist against her dress as the thought settled in. It'll be 9 years in a month since he passed, but somehow the wound still felt fresh. Somehow she still couldn't resist the muttering of curses whenever she passed the recruiting station or she passed by a flag. The drunken mess of a stupor she allowed herself to get every 4th of july bitterly mourning for him and borderline hating the country that took him from her...and for what? To still be treated the way they are here...

Not to be mistaken she has nothing but pride and honor and respect for other vets she sees no matter the color of their skin. The people? The people she still love and adored. Ray had written fondly about those he served with. One of them was even the one who returned his things to her. People like that...people like Bea's family...they were the only reason she held any hope in this rotten world that maybe things could one day be better. Maybe this was the start of her better tomorrow.

As the mansion came into view she took a deep breath and released the tension in her hand and teeth just now realizing it was there. She made her way to the doors wondering if she was the first? She was always one for being punctual. In fact she'd rather be early or right on time. If she was going to be late she would rather not show up at all, and that's any event. However this wasn't the case, as there were others there as well. She did however take it upon herself to go ahead and knock to get this show on the road.

Hearing Bea's words Scar just chuckled, "Good to see you too?" She teased letting a smirk curl onto her lips, "And of course not."

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[qunqun]

MOOD: Trying their best

OUTFIT: He’s a whore.
There was no grunge in 1950 I'm trying my best

LOCATION: Mansion

basics

MENTIONS:



INT:
Anyone that wants to interact with these two idiots

tags

TL;DR Oh no, they're so stupid.

tl;dr

Graham/Aoife

The terrifying Irish twins, one that can dismantle you psychologically, the other that could kick your ass back to Ireland. A horrific combination of mad genius, an unshakeable duo.

“We’re doing WHAT?” Came the harpy screech that could definitely be heard three blocks away.

A woman was currently screaming at a man, both having the same hair, the same eyes. The same vague facial structure. Clearly twins - and the man had his hands up in a placating manner as they stopped dead in the street.

“Aoife it isn’t-” A glance at the people that were stopping to watch the two bicker. A small glare levied at the passerby and a tug on Aoife’s arm so that they continued to walk to the house everyone was supposed to meet up at.

For some reason, the hitchhiker host that they’d taken from their bunker had been unwilling to put up with their bickering and dropped them off a fair ways away.

“It isn’t that big of a deal- YOU STILL HAVE HOLES IN YOU.” Graham, at least, had the audacity to look a bit offended at the practically spot on impression that Aoife managed to pull out of her ass.

“Well, we have to be team playe-”

“Team players?! UH, I THINK WE PAID OUR SHARE IN BLOOD THANK YOU.”

“Well this is new leadershi-”

“SHE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD, GRAHAM, YOU’RE NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE PART OF THIS FAMILY ANYMORE.”

The parting of lips for Graham’s silver tongue to loosen up a bit more, and Aoife quickly stopped him from being able to even reply.

“No. No. Shut up. No, it’s not okay you fecking idjit-” Graham opened his mouth again to argue back. “No it’s not.”

A direct stare into twin green eyes. A murderous gleam in them, as she very calmly spoke again. “I am going to slit that feck’s throat for shooting you, and that’s final.”

Aoife began storming off as Graham quickly caught up behind her.

“I’m just saying that that would be pretty awful for creating good relationships with the other fam- FECKING HELL OW.” As Aoife whipped around and punched him in the shoulder that currently didn’t have stitches.

“Dead! He’s DEAD!”

“Fine! Fine! He’s dead!” A beat of silence. “... if Bea even lets you in the same building as the guy.”

“GRAHAM”

… So they showed up a bit late because of the squabbling.

“Oi, oi.” A very formal greeting as the two redheads entered the building. “Sorry for being a tad late, had a bit of difficulty with the travel, forgive us?”

A winning smile and a flirtatious wink, the absolute brightness almost completely eclipsing his sister’s very much not winning frown and very not willing to be there eye roll. The tiniest little elbow nudge and an immediate reversal from the frown into a smile with way too many teeth and eyes that promised murder.

“Anyways, we brought beer” Another triumphant smile alongside a showcase of the six pack of glass bottle beer that could only be assumed to be very very lukewarm. "What'd we miss?"

code by valen t.

 

[CozyGamer]

MOOD: Excited and Wary

OUTFIT: Thomas
Eleanor

LOCATION: Ludovici Mansion

basics

MENTIONS:



INT:
Anyone (My kiddos have no friends)

tags

TL;DR Our intrepid heroes (read: dumb idiots) arrive at the vague location in the fancy invitations they received.

tl;dr

Eleanor/Thomas

Eleanor shifted the gravel around with the toe of her heeled shoe as she stared down the long driveway. Blanketed with oak trees, the long straight line widened into a cul-de-sac leading up to the front doors of the white mansion, green ivy acting as curtains for huge windows.

A whistle came from beside her. “Miss Ludovici definitely had an air of wealth around her,” Thomas said, his Irish accent that he normally worked hard to hide coming out. “but I never imagined it would look this….wealthy.”

“You said you knew her,” Eleanor said. Her British accent cut through the quiet air around them.

“I said I’d met her before,” he corrected. “I’d never said I’d been to her mansion. Though I suppose 'castle' is more like it,” he mused as they stared down the driveway.

Eleanor bristled silently. Thomas had never been here before, Thomas had never actually worked with the damn woman before, but somehow he knew about the not-so-legal things that she did, and somehow this Beatrice Ludovici thought the two of them would be perfect for whatever she was plotting. And somehow Eleanor was here, pretending like it was a good idea.

It wasn’t like she had many other options - Chicago was getting too expensive to live in now that she was laid off from her job as a telephone operator, and there weren’t many other jobs that would hire her. In all honesty she had been planning on leaving Chicago, getting back on the train that had brought her here and riding it to wherever it would take her next. She had never planned to stay this long in one place anyways, and eventually her family would figure out where she had run off to.

But on what she had thought would be her last evening walk around the city, Thomas had appeared out of nowhere, in a similar fashion to the way he had 4 years ago, when she first arrived in the city with no money and no plan. And in a similar fashion, he once again had a solution to her problem.

Eleanor had barely believed him when he told her about the meeting he had had with a woman who talked like the world and everything in it was hers for the taking. But sure enough, the next day when Thomas dropped off her mail, there was a strange letter included. A red wax crest held together a vague invitation - simply a date, time, and place.

"I think it would be good for you," he had said. "For both of us, really."

Eleanor was new to this, but she wasn’t stupid enough to realize how important secrecy was. Instead of driving straight to the address, they drove to a nearby park, to the rest of the world looking like a couple out for a walk. And walk they did, out of the park and down quiet streets until they found themselves at the end of the long gravel driveway where they now stood, staring at the mansion.

“It’s definitely too fancy a place for you, then,” Eleanor quipped. “Especially with that stupid mustache.”

Thomas gasped in false outrage, his hands coming up to brush against the small triangular patches of hair underneath his nose which he had trimmed the night before. “I’ll have you know that I put a lot of work in to give off a good impression,” he said, his hands straightening the dark suit he wore and adjusting the collar of the dark red patterned shirt he wore underneath. It was a very different outfit than what he normally wore while working at the butcher shop or lounging around in one of their apartments - maybe that’s why Eleanor disliked it so much.

On the other hand, Eleanor always wore something that she thought was pretty, or at least well put together. She smoothed her hands down the folds of her grey skirt, not bothering to check whether or not her blouse was straightened. She'd felt calmest dressing in something that she'd wear to a job interview, even though this didn't seem like a typical job.

"You're certainly giving off an impression," she replied. "Were you going for the ringmaster of a carnival?"

“I’m not taking your opinions anymore,” Thomas huffed as he briskly walked down the driveway. “The mustache stays!” he called over his shoulder.

Eleanor chuckled, shaking her head as she followed him down the driveway. For all her teasing, she could tell that Thomas was genuinely excited for whatever awaited them at the mansion - if it wasn't for the fancy suit he wore, she was certain he would be running down the driveway. When she had left her home at 21, she’d resolved to not care about anyone else. But somehow, the tall, strong Irishman had wormed his way into her heart, and was now her closest (and only) friend.

The mansion loomed over them as they made their way closer to it. By the time they reached the front door, Eleanor had fallen in line with Thomas. They were the first ones to arrive, it seemed. Eleanor and Thomas looked at each other, and without a word, they knew that neither of them really wanted to be the one to go up and knock.

Thankfully, they didn't need to. Both cars and people began to arrive down the same driveway they had just walked down themselves. Eleanor snuck another glance at Thomas' face, and saw that it had become something more closed off than when it had been just the two of them.

“Thomas McCallum and Miss Eleanor Kensies,” he introduced the both of them to the arriving group, his voice now a practiced American accent. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

They kept up small talk with the arriving guests, Thomas with a bright smile keeping everyone at arms length, and Eleanor doing more silent watching than talking. Eleanor watched a coloured woman in a light blue dress join the group, and after exchanging a few quick pleasantries, go up and knock on the front door. They were let in by a woman who Eleanor assumed was Beatrice Ludovici. She took a deep breath before following Thomas into the mansion.

No turning back now.

code by valen t.

 

[Harrowhark]

MOOD: Lost mom

OUTFIT: Diamonds are a girl's best friend

LOCATION: Downtown

basics

INT:
Mishka jinxxes

tags

TL;DR Sad dead husband thoughts and then boom a child

tl;dr

Adriana

— Me and My Husband

Months after Erik’s death, Adriana was still getting his mail. Funny how these things work, someone can be gone, but to someone else they are still alive and breathing. Though the letter never said it was for him, simply reading “Mikhailov,” the contents made that fact far too clear. She’d only worked for the Russian mafia for a short time before shit hit the fan. Even then, it was only because she considered everyone else to be completely incompetent and unable to do it.

Despite all of this, every free moment Adriana had was spent reading it, over and over and over. Every trace of him left was savored, consumed as slowly as she possibly could in order to preserve him. She shouldn’t be getting herself involved in this again, she had a kid, a respectable job, getting into trouble should be the last thing on her mind. Yet, the words called to her, promises of someone who knew him, who maybe even loved him like family. There was nothing she could do to convince herself not to answer.

Adriana decided she’d go, if only to tell whoever sent it that Erik was no longer with them. It wasn’t easy, in truth she was terrified of even allowing a link like this to remain connected to her, to Adam, but temptation had never been something she could deny. She had barely left the house in the past few months, only when necessary, so allowing this indulgence was rare.

Even once she was dressed, Adriana was having second thoughts. Not about the outfit of course, she looked perfect, but about leaving the house at all. The weatherman said it might rain, she ought to not ruin her hair, but the card sang much too loudly for her to deny its siren song. With Adam safely at school, she didn’t have any reason not to go. At least, not one that would actually stop her.

~~~

Okay, maybe something could stop her. Adriana didn’t usually walk the streets of Chicago alone, and when she did, she knew where she was going. Though she hated the idea, she was completely lost. After over a decade, she didn’t think she needed a map, but it seemed Chicago was bigger than she knew.

And it seemed she wasn’t the only one. A teenage boy, he didn’t look more than 16, and that honestly felt more than generous. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” Adriana didn’t have any fear when it came to approaching strangers, especially when they were children. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” Lord knew she’d skipped her fair share of classes in her day.

“You look lost though. Kids like you shouldn’t be wandering the streets alone.” He was tiny, maybe a hundred pounds sopping wet. Even if she was lost herself, Adriana couldn’t leave him out here alone. “Need help finding your way?”

code by valen t.

 

[PenguinFox]

The Old Man

The Socials Capo

Tex

mood

Tired, wary

outfit

Tex's suit

location

Ludovici Mansion

interactions

geminiy

Mentions

Bea, Angelo, everyone else

A singular beam of sunshine penetrated the defense of the curtains pulled closed against the window, and attacked the closed eyelids of one Walter Lincoln. A hand lazily reached out and felt around for his trademark white Stetson hat. Placing it over his face to block out the sun he attempted to fall back asleep, but it was too late. Despite what most people might think about him, the man they knew as Tex was not a heavy sleeper. In fact, most nights he barely slept a wink, which was why he constantly wanted to nap. War was hell and the lasting effects would never leave Tex for as long as he lived. If ever he was able to fall into a deeper sleep he was fated to have night terrors; reliving the worst things he had seen on the battlefield. The life he had lived was by no means an easy one, it was one that would take a toll on even the toughest of spirits; restful sleep had become a luxury afforded mostly with help from his friends Walker and Fitzgerald, but really any strong liquor would do.

With a groan and indistinctive mutterings about the sun being an asshole, Tex rolled out of his bed and made his way to his bathroom. It was more spacious than he required but he wasn't about to complain. The Ludovici children were very generous letting him stay with them in their family home when they in no way owed him. If anything, it was Tex that still owed them. For many years the Ludovici family had helped Walter out. Both before and after his military service, Lorenzo Ludovici helped the Texan man get a job and live the life he wanted to live. It wasn't free of course, Tex used his work to help the family in return. When you run a bar, you tend to hear things, and information is power when you're in the type of business that family was in.

When Lorenzo passed Walter felt like it was his duty to watch after the Ludovici children. Sure they were fully grown adults at this point, but family was important and Tex owed a lot to them so it only felt fair to keep them safe, in whatever way he could. He guised his actions as just being too drunk to go to his own place every now and then so the siblings would let him stay in their mansion. Gradually he started doing it more until it was pretty much every day. After a while he dropped the act and just ended up staying there, and after not hearing any complaints from the remaining Ludovicis, Tex straight up moved in. It wasn't like he was entirely free loading, he helped the kids with whatever they needed, and even helped clean up around the place. Beatrice was trying to rebuild the legacy of the family and whenever she asked of his services, Tex obliged. Was this how he expected to spend the latter half of his life? Absolutely not, he'd love nothing more than to retire in peace, but his sense of duty and loyalty demanded this to be his life.

Walter took an exceptionally long bath, enjoying having the warm water relieve the discomfort in his hip. While serving in the European front of the war Tex was injured and while he does his best to not let it show or effect his daily life, there is a constant discomfort in addition to a slight limp. Luckily enough, those that notice tend to write him off because of it. That fact is what Tex attributes to his survival. The hit done on the Ludovici family was intended to kill them all or render them permanently weak enough to not be a problem. By all accounts, Walter should have been killed too, but he wasn't. He supposed that a lame old barman wasn't worth the price of a bullet to them.

Once he had dried off and gotten dressed in his standard suit he took one final look in the mirror. Flecks of gray and silver dotted his goatee and surrounding shadow. He considered cleaning up his facial hair to look more presentable for the days events but thought better of it. Looking unkempt as he did now would further add on his unassuming look. People who underestimated you were easier to overcome, something Tex learned while working with Lorenzo.

Making his way into the kitchen Walter spotted the two Ludovici siblings and gave the pair a nod. "Mornin'." he took his flask out from his jacket pocket and swig. "Nothin' like a little hair o the dog right?" he wasn't really talking to anyone in particular, more just speaking into the atmosphere. If either wanted to respond, they were more than welcome. When Bea went to greet the guests who were arriving Tex turned to Angelo, scratching at his chin as he spoke. "Oh yeah, that there meet an' greet is happenin' today..." his words came out slowly, almost thoughtfully, despite him being well aware of the day ahead. Suddenly his tone became hushed and husky as he looked directly into Angelo's eyes, leaning in some as he did so. "You reckon we can trust em?" Tex's eyebrow arched as he studied the boy before him. He wanted to gauge how much he had to keep on eye on people, he wasn't about to lose even more people that were important to him.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[0k_mang0]

MOOD: idk

OUTFIT:
presentable enough, hopefully
​

INFO

LOCATION: Ludovici Mansion

Interaction: n/a​

ACTIVITY

beep

TAGS

Claude A. Benavidez

Coffee Cold

The reasonable part of his brain was still nagging he shouldn’t do it. That he should’ve rejected the offer, move to another town and find a new job. The practical part of him reminded him that these people would help him get the money he needed. That was the part Claude was heeding. With great risk comes great reward, even if it might get him arrested, killed, or worse.

Was he nervous? Yeah, a little. Despite the handful of rumors he heard about this family, he wasn’t spooked at all. He couldn’t really afford to be. He didn’t have many secured alternatives. Over a year ago, he started to struggle with his rent payments after he was fired from his job at an auto shop when he got into a small disagreement with a fellow coworker—a slightly violent disagreement resulting in Claude rewarding said coworker with a broken nose. He didn’t entirely regret his action, but since then he’d been jumping from one odd job to another. Not many places were willing to hire him full-time, and the few that offered didn’t pay very well or fairly. Twice, he was forced to take out a loan to avoid eviction.

Several months ago, Claude found a decent steady job at a bar owned by a middle-aged man named Walter Lincoln who looked like a modern-day cowboy. The bar was the first workplace in the city that treated Claude fairly, better than in his previous dozen short-lived occupations, and better than his time in the Army during the war. There were still the occasional rude customers. Like recently, he kicked out a small group of loud drunks for harassing and disrespecting one of his coworkers, and then later he’d fended off those same pendejos who attacked him outside the bar when he was found alone. Luckily, Walter Lincoln saw it happen and intervened to save Claude’s ass when the fight started going south, then (Claude guessed) probably mentioned the incident to the Ludovici afterward at some point. Most of Claude’s bruises and scrapes were gone now, less visible on his hands and face than before.

His bus stop was a 20-minute walk from the mansion. Along the way, he smoked two Lucky Strike cigarettes to soothe his nerves and his thoughts, snuffing the buds under his boot on the sidewalk. He almost lit a third, but it was left held loosely between the corner of his lips untouched by his lighter and seemingly forgotten, when his attention was drawn to the mansion slowly emerging up his line of sight. Trekking on the driveway, he wondered, Why does anyone need so much space for a front yard?

Seeing the small castle of a mansion also made him wonder if he was underdressed for this meeting. Claude had managed to find in his small wardrobe clean old dark gray work pants, paired with a simple button shirt and vest, but no necktie since he owned none. He’d shined his work boots as well as he could, but there were a few scuff marks around the edges that refused to come off. He wore a brown leather jacket and a gray wool fedora hat to shield him from Chicago’s March winter chill. He looked overall ordinary, but he was trying, okay? It wasn’t like he could afford an Italian suit and tie in a snap.

But wasn’t that why he was here? Not exclusively for Italian suits, but to work for the Ludovici family and eventually have enough money to consider buying himself a nice new suit from anywhere or any new clothes, to pay off his debts and maybe find a better place with more space to live in. As much as he liked working at the bar, there was only so much money Claude could earn working there.

Approaching the front entrance, Claude saw a few people already there. As he got closer, his steps seemed deliberately half-slow and wary. Claude saw nobody he knew personally. One looked partially familiar, probably a regular patron from Walter Lincoln’s bar he’d glanced at once or twice during his shifts, but he was too busy with bussing tables and counters to pay attention to anyone’s faces. Everyone here was a stranger to him.

Almost three years of living in the city and so far Claude hadn’t made at least one friend. Even his neighbors were still passing acquaintances.

He didn’t make much small talk. He politely nodded at one of the guests, and then his eyes absentmindedly traced the lines forming a random part of the mansion’s structure and looked back at the impressive driveway again. It wasn’t every day he visited a mansion. About a minute or two after Claude arrived, the doors opened. He removed his hat while stepping through the threshold and brushed back his curly short hair with his hand. It took him several more moments to remember that he still held an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

“I think the only thing that followed me were a couple of squirrels on the driveway earlier,” Claude said, putting the Lucky Strike back in his pocket. Smoking with strangers wasn't usually his thing, and this was supposed to be some kind of meeting. One focus at a time.

Truth be told, he hadn’t contemplated the possibility of anyone following him here or anywhere and rarely did. Thinking about it now, maybe he should start doing that more often, especially since he was ambushed by some vengeful punks in the back alley of a bar, and his ex-coworker from the auto shop could be nursing a grudge for the broken nose.

code by valen t.

 

[Harrowhark]

MOOD: Why am I here again?

OUTFIT: Its not easy being green

LOCATION: Manor

basics

MENTIONS:
everyone yall

INT:
geminiy PenguinFox

tags

TL;DR Wants to be very intoxicated and entertained at once.

tl;dr

Victor

“No.” This was Victor’s immediate response when Beatrice asked him to join her silly little misfit gang. “I don’t belong to anyone anymore.” Despite all she’d done for him, he wasn’t willing to give that up. He didn’t need anyone else, he wouldn’t start now. If Bea had left him for dead on the streets, he still would’ve been fine.

No, Victor didn’t need a family. He didn’t need his goddamn father and his dynasty. He didn’t need his whore mother and her weakness. He didn’t need pathetic Angeleo and his judgment. And he sure as hell didn’t need Bea and her worthless misfits. His soul had been owned and bartered for enough times. Now it was his own to gamble with.

“I’m not one of your toys, Beatrice.” She had to know that. All this time Victor hadn’t stopped fighting her. Whatever kept her tied to him, any resemblance to Angelo, a maternal instinct, whatever it was, he’d always try to cut the line. “And you’re delusional if you think this would even be worth it.”

Nothing she said could convince him otherwise.

~~~~

Victor stood in the foyer, gazing upon the sibling’s bickering like a fly on the wall. He couldn’t stand either of them. Yet, his eyes clung to Angelo, never straying. His thoughts were almost loud enough to drown out this childish dialogue, if only he would be so lucky.

When Victor decided he couldn’t stand it much anymore, he finally allowed himself to be known. With a click of his tongue, his dark eyes left Angelo in favor of Beatrice, “Are you two done? Or should I consider a permanent stay in the basement.” Not a man of subtlety, at least when sobriety wasn't a factor.

Another click the moment he heard the door. “You should behave for your family of disappointments.” Of which he had been worn down into joining. Victor could almost feel the leash choking him already.

He avoided any sight of Angelo as his eyes wandered to the door. Might as well watch this miserable parade. Victor leaned against the wall lazily, not caring about the impression he might give. The entrance of strangers appalled him, several people infecting his space, not to mention his life. The polite entrances were enough to make him sick. At least act like dirty city gangsters at a dirty city gangster meeting.

A set of twins had the balls to bring beer. He’d need something much stronger to make it through this. Another duo wandered in and got Victor wondering how many lost causes came in pairs. The smallest bit of attractiveness kept him from completely tuning out the guy. Full names and pleasantries. He’d be one of the first casualties.

Victor finally let his gaze return to Angelo, losing the fight against the magnetic pull of his mind. He faked a gag, knowing the gesture would be completely lost on the doctor. But he was short on friends and couldn’t complain, even if Angelo was more of a gangrenous limb to him than a friend.

Finally, a sight for sore eyes. No, not Tex, the flask. It took him a moment to actually identify the old man as the carrier.

“Tex.” Victor called, curling his fingers in request. Despite the fact he knew this wouldn’t get him what he wanted, he couldn’t be bothered to work harder to mix the substances in his brain. “I’ve got two pints on that mustached one not lasting the week.” Spoken a little louder than necessary for Tex to hear. Sorry, Timothy, nothing personal.

A whiff of smoke snapped Victor to attention, like a dog who just heard the word “walk.” Now, that he’d put a little more effort into. Especially when the possessor seemed much more weak willed. “If you give me a sip now, I’ll give you a show and scare the shit out of him.” Tex might, just might, accept some form of entertainment, unlike the chronically serious twins. Frighten the boy, steal his pack, get some whiskey.

Now that was a good morning.

code by valen t.

 

[Xed]

MOOD: Hello, hello

OUTFIT: suspenders baby, minus the gloves

LOCATION:Ludovici Mansion

basics

MENTIONS:
Beatrice

INT:
anyone/everyone

tags

TL;DR nil

tl;dr

Atlas

sunshine all day

Revenge was like a bloodsucking mosquito. He’d watch it take the life out of his father, control him, transform him, ruin him, and though his father’s last words often rang in his head like the church bells chiming on the streets when it hit 12, Atlas had no interest in following suit. It hurt. Losing your family the way he did at the age he did. But what hurt more was seeing what it did to his father. To watch him disappear beneath the anguish and hate. Fade into someone, something else entirely, while his heart was still beating.

He never got the opportunity to go to school, but life on the streets taught him all he needed to know, the main thing being that life was for laughter and fun. Not violence and hate, and all the dark, negative emotions that consumed his father in his final years. The whole thing was ironic really, considering that where Atlas was headed to, his current job, was as a member of the mafia. A man with an aversion to violence and a desire to live happily walking into a den of death and blood. Downright idiotic don’t you think? But look, just cause one was in the mafia didn’t mean everything was going to be all dark and bad and pain. What was that saying? Don’t judge a bloke by the color of his shirt or something? Anyway, being in the mafia didn’t mean it was all bad. Besides he knew right away from his first encounter with Beatrice Ludovici that she was a good fun person. Sharp in her words and intimidating in her manner to some perhaps, but

in that first encounter he had with his new bosses, comrades, friends, whatever their relationship was supposed to be, he knew right away that they weren’t bad people. Beatrice and Angelo Ludovici as intimidating as they could appear to other people with their sharp features and mannerisms, were fun, good folk. but she was attractive and vivacious. There was a spiritedness to her that was just charming and drew him in deeper and deeper, and the responses she gave him only added to the excitement and allure of being around her. It was fun, intoxicating almost, and when she offered the job… he saw no reason to refuse. He’d just finish one job and sure he was working another two, but one stable job in place of multiple part time jobs? And working with a very attractive woman to boot? He signed up right away.

And now he was making his way, down the crowded streets in clean clothes, winking at the occasional girl he passed who threw him a flirty wave.

What could he say? He liked attractive women, what guy didn’t? And he certainly wasn’t going to reject their attention, especially since he couldn’t exactly stick around since he had an appointment to get to at the Ludovici Mansion.

Was he late? A glance at his watch told him yes. Last one to arrive? He was about to find out.

Atlas made his way down the long driveway towards the mansion in the distance slightly hidden by the trees and crawling tendrils of green ivy.

His eyes lit up as he saw the group gathered by the entrance of the door, where Beatrice stood at the top in a sexy bluish green number, her brother Angelo just off to the side, and one of their members holding in his hands, a most delicious sight. Beer.

Atlas grinned as he reached the group and came to a stop just behind the others.

“I hope you haven’t started the party without me.”

code by valen t.

 

[SoggySailor]

MOOD: optimistic

OUTFIT: Something delightfully breezy

LOCATION: Angelo's house

basics

MENTIONS:
Angie

INT:
empty

tags

TL;DR had an insightful conversation with a bird

tl;dr

Snake

Change is afoot!

Fiddling with his sleeve nervously, the man hobbled down the sidewalk.

"Seven hundred and twenty-two, seven hundred and twenty-three, seven hundred and twenty-four-" the ground rose up to meet his face as the gentleman tumbled face first into the pavement.

Taking out a worn notebook, the surprisingly calm (and now bleeding) fellow jotted down a lengthy note full of flourishes and haphazard crisscrosses that made it impossible to tell if he even agreed with himself on the very same page.

Standing once more, he began his journey anew, favoring neither leg, as his experiment had come to a natural end.

A shop door's bell jingled as he passed, and a woman's head poked out to greet him.

"Oh!" she trilled, an amused smile playing at her cherry red lined lips.

"Snake, darling! Are you out for your morning walk?"

Sparing barely a glance, Snake began walking with earnest.

"I must apologize, my dearest Dottie, for I am in quite the rush today. Business calls! Yes, Business calls."

"Well don't forget to stop by for some pie later, dear- Johnny just made on fresh just this morning."

The man's steps faltered.

But with a pained breath he persevered.

"I will most certainly be back. Save me a slice if you would be so inclined."

Waves were exchanged, and Snake was yet again thrust into his world of worries and swirling thoughts.

Now, as experiments go, and business ventures are born, risks blossom.

Snake was feeling quite risky in the most pleasant of ways.

Business ventures were always a splendid way to begin the day, especially on Tuesdays- which he wasn't sure if it was.

Shoving a hand to rummage around his pockets, items jingled and bumped against one-another until he successfully wrangled free an old pocket watch.

Tuesday?

The watch, staring back at him, had unfortunately not fixed itself in the last twenty or so minutes it had had to rest.

It's cracked face pleaded for new glass.

Ah well, back to the pocket for another quick nap it went.

Oh.

His leather boots bumped against a step.

He'd arrived.

The mansion standing before him was just as he remembered it.

From, well- the other day.

Having stopped by several times now for a quick sale, or a request for alterations, the tinkerer had made a rather interesting acquaintance- well, potentially a roommate it now seemed.

His cadaver appreciating pal must've been as delighted as Snake was for him to be turning into a more permanent fixture at the mansion.

How exciting!

He smiled, remembering the encouraging words John had uttered to him before he had left home that morning.

"Caw, caw. Caw."

He knocked.

A small smile greeted the inhabitants as the door opened.

"Hello." he deadpanned.

"I am here."

code by valen t.

 

[jinxxes]

mishka.

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  mood

  
  
  
  

  joining the mafia! Woo!
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  outfit

  
  
  
  

  idk
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  location

  
  
  
  

  The Streets
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  interactions

  
  
  
  

  Harrowhark (Adriana)
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Slow dripping echoed like the tick of a clock, serving as its own passage of time in this enclosed space. It was maddening, raising a sense of unease and anxiety to its victim. If Mishka let himself become too engrossed he could almost smell the blood that the sound stirred memories of.

At least he wouldn't have to put up with it much longer. Not like he actually had to at all, Mishka had free reign to leave at any point in time. But running away had just felt wrong, to leave behind her memory. No, if he had gone it would just be leaky roof to leaky roof. You can't run from the past. So, he stayed. Stayed until he put himself towards something she would have been proud of.

Well, that wasn't quite right. Actually, Mishka’s decision would have gotten his ears boxxed for being stupid and dangerous. But sitting around moping would be even worse. If she didn't want him in trouble then she shouldn't have up and died on him really. What else could he do left alone than find revenge and sell his soul to the devil?

That brought to how this was an important day, the start of a new life. Mishka hadn't actually had much hope when he approached Beatrice Ludovici, even rebuilding from scraps there was no reason to take in some street urchin. And yet, now he was packing what little belongings he had into a small satchel to leave for the mansion. Maybe it was the desperation in his voice, maybe she was too kind to just leave someone so young looking behind. It didnt matter, whatever it took to get on the right track. So long as he could be rid of that nagging leak without any guilt.

Yes, he was ready.

Stepping into the sunlight, Mishka was winding his way through the Chicago streets. Unlike the other prospects Bea had collected, Mishka wasn't a suspicious face. That didn't stop him from being careful, of course, he had an acceptable level of paranoia that kept him more than aware of his surroundings. Why, just a man happening to travel too much in the same direction left him making a long run around so he could feel comfortable in his travels.

Thus, it was almost a shame when his young nature got another pair of eyes on him for that loop. Almost. Because when Mishka looked to the voice of the meddling mother figure, he was quick to recognize her.

What? He took his preparations seriously, and part of that was digging up whatever he could on these people. Within reason of course, some wouldnt take too lightly to his completely innocent snooping. It was likely way less than anything Bea would be doing to ensure her family’s safety. No big deal, really. Mishka was far more concerned with the who rather than the what.

Careful eyes considered over the mother, he looked like a guilty kid working over his lie. Was she in the same boat, was this a call to rendezvous? After all, a mother and child would be even less suspicious.

But mishka was an ultimate liar, and her words seemed sincere rather than recognizing a peer.

Hm.

There was no way he could be dropped into this mess and not stir the pot.

Shifting his eyes away as if on the lookout for a snitch, Mishka relaxed a little as she ensured she wouldn't tell on this horrendous secret of skipping school.

"Yeah…."

Leaving his voice heavy to suggest something was bugging him, get those mother instincts into overdrive.

"It's a long story, I just… really can't be there right now."

Yes, take pity on this poor soul, become invested in his sweet innocent face.

"I uh…. There's a side road off King’s street i need to get to but I'm a little turned around.."

So convenient they’d end up going the same way too! There was absolutely no reason not to help him in this case.

"Do you know which direction? I just-"

Mishka trailed off with an exasperated motion with his hands, he looked tired and stressed out. Definitely in need of assistance.

Throw the poor kid a bone, Adriana. Help the kid catch a break.

Outrunning Karma

Alec Benjamin

♡coded by uxie♡