Hope this helps the confusion. I'll add to it if and when we get more characters. I'll make the De Luca's family tree tomorrow unless someone else wants to make it.
~Angel
P.S. The boxes marked with the black line means that the person is dead.
True love, in all it’s celestial charm, and
star-crossed ways, only exist in a writer’s
mind, for humans have not yet learned
how to manifest it.
fighting style: guns are the only way for him he's a great shot
Personality: cool an collected you can't phase this guy if you put a gun to his head he'll still be cool with it and talk his way out of it.
History: was born in Ireland so can never become a made man and knows that many people in the mob he works for the De lucu that insult him thought they know he's a valuable asset to have he's the kind of guy that you walk in and he's sitting on the couch drinking a beer he says hi and shoots you
stelagineva: Of course, this isn't my storybook but I think you need to have a "family" to go with Monica. As in are you so and so's cousin? Sister? That way we can have a family tree.
The clock was just hitting 6pm as Joah pulled on her coat and swung her purse over her shoulder. Her slender hands ran along her neck and pulled her dark locks out from beneath her jacket, letting them bounce and settle themselves on the outer fabric.
A friendly voice came from behind, "Are you in tomorrow, Jo?"
Joah spun around almost as if startled, even though she knew the other woman was still there. It was a bank...no one ever close by themselves. Besides the point that it would be unlawful and unsafe, it would take one person until the open the next day to balance the safe on their own. A quick smile flashed from Joah's soft lips, "Nope. I have next Saturday."
The other woman seemed a bit disappointed, but shrugged, "Alright then, see you Monday!"
"Have a good weekend, Clare." Joah spun back to towards the door as she spoke and pushed out onto the sidewalk, busy with the rush hour Friday work escapees like herself. Chicago was always full of people, however, whether it was 6pm on a Friday or 2am on a Tuesday. Joah was used to it, though, as she had lived here her entire life like most of the de Luca's, and had come to like the hustle and bustle of things. It was common to her, and she loved it.
She checked her watch as she headed around the corner, she knew she needed to stop at her fathers for a quick minute before meeting Sal for dinner. She wasn't sure whether they were meeting at home or at the restaurant, but she decided she'd call after stopping in at her father's. Neither place was too far from the bank she worked at--it was right downtown in the middle of everything. But in Chicago, hundreds or even thousands of people could live on one block. There was no shortage. The bank was almost an exact middle marker between her fathers and the townhouse she and Sal had acquired a year ago. Both were within walking distance--well, depending on the heels she wore that day, anyway.
It was exactly 6pm as Bianca de Luca walked out of McDonalds pulling a stroller which her son, Damarco, was now seated in, singing his ABCs and eating a happy meal. She was due at her uncle's home in ten minutes for dinner but was running quite late. At the Art Gallery she worked at there had been an accident with spilled paint and so with that, she was also late in picking up her son from daycare.
"Mommy, are we going to see Grandaddy?" Damarco asked his mother, looking up at her from his stroller with his big, black eyes. Damarco called his mother's Uncle Giancarlo Grandaddy all of the time, even though he was only his great uncle.
"Yes, sweetheart" Bianca told him, smiling down at her son. With that Damarco continued to sing ABCs.
Love of mine, someday you will die. But I'll be close behind, to follow you into the dark.
- Death Cab For Cutie
Dom Santorini staggered backwards, colliding with the wall behind him as he jabbered in fear, repeatedly begging for his life even as he claimed that he knew nothing about any missing cash. Only one of his bodyguards remained alive, curled up into a foetal position on the floor as he coughed up blood.
Of the other two, one lay on the floor beside the door, shot between the eyes the moment he’d opened it for Nico. The other was slumped back in his chair, one hand stiffened by rigor mortis clutching his half-open jacket. The stock of a pistol glinted from the holster hidden under it.
Nico checked his pistols, holstering one of them as he crossed the room. The other went beneath Santorini’s chin. “The money.”
“I told you, I don’t know! For Chrissakes, let me go!”
Nico pulled back the slide, cocking the gun. Santorini tried pleading with him again.
Il Serpente rolled his eyes and stepped back, firing at Santorini’s foot. The man screamed, collapsing and grabbing at it, “You fucking psycho! I don’t f-” He froze as the barrel was placed against the side of his head, then mumbled an address.
“Again.”
He repeated it. His brother Frank’s place on the other side of town, apparently. Nico memorised it, then pulled the trigger.
“Don de Luca dislikes liars.” He murmured, dipping his thumb into the man’s blood as tracing a snake pattern onto a forehead that was already growing cold. Then he slipped a rose into the dead man’s pocket. The message was clear: Don’t screw with the de Luca family. Il Serpente. He answered his phone as it buzzed, “Father.”
“You working, Nico?”
Nico scribbled down the address he’d been given on the back of one of Santorini’s business cards, “Just finished.”
“Then come to dinner tonight, all the family’s going to be there.”
“Even Joah?”
He could practically hear the old man scowling on the other end. Giancarlo, whatever he might claim, didn’t like the fact that Joah had separated herself from the family. “I’m seeing her this afternoon.” He said, “But I don’t think she’s coming tonight.”
“I’ll be there.” Nico replied.
He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt. - Yossarian, Catch-22
Wide-eyed stupid.
If you're gonna rule the world, you've gotta get up early! - Joel S. Dickens
Can everybody with a male character please read the DT, along with Via.
I shall delete this post once I get a reply back from the post I placed in the DT.
Bianca waited in the empty foyer of her Uncle's home, Damarco in her arms. She'd gotten there right on time, maybe even a bit early since they hadn't come to greet her yet.
"Bianca, my dear!" went a man's voice as he descended down from the staircase. "It is so nice to see you again, and my hasn't Damarco grown."
"Good to see you again to, Uncle" Bianca said to Giancarlo, smiling one of her famous Bianca smiles. Damarco wiggled his way out of his mother's arms and ran to his great uncle, wrapping his arms around the older man's leg.
"Hi, Grandaddy!" he squealed with excitement.
Love of mine, someday you will die. But I'll be close behind, to follow you into the dark.
- Death Cab For Cutie
Thanks!
