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M.S.R.P. II • View topic - I told you, I don't work for Benevantano!

M.S.R.P. II

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PostPosted: Tue Mar 28, 2006 9:33 pm 
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[font=Times New Roman, serif]It is a good morning, yes, it definitely is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, people are laughing and Palermo is as happy as Palermo always is. Well, that is until mafia wars break out and a dozen of Palermo’s sons die from the mayhem. That was exactly what had happened the night before, a war waging between two of the mafias in the area. It was a short battle however ten men were murdered in total, leaving blood and carnage on the ground. Weapons had been discarded however they had already been taken away and carted as evidence, so they held no relevance. Cristoforo, a man whose destiny lay in the future, stood on a street, two blocks over from where the battle had occurred the night before and breathed in the smell of the fresh morning air. It did not feel like a day after a battle and it surely did not feel like a day of a battle. What Cristoforo did not know was that he was about to be thrown into a war that one day would force him to become the supreme ruler, the Don, of the area of Southern Palermo. Someday, and that day might never come, he might expand, however, currently, thoughts of even being a Don were not in his head. The only thoughts that passed through his mind were the fact that he was soon going to be thrown into a war that he had no control over.

Cristoforo walked into a small café and ordered himself a cup of coffee before he made his way outside to rest on one of the small chairs that were next to the tables the café owned. His eyes closed and he just breathed in the soft smell of the morning air, the smell of his coffee assimilating with the air smell to form a rather enjoyable fragrance. He lifted his cup of coffee and took a small sip from the coffee before he glanced over at a sleek black car that came to a stop in front of the café. His eyebrow rose and he watched as four men stepped out of the car and walked into the café to collect their extortion money. A very big business in Palermo was extortion, so that was how these Mafia families made their bread and butter. However, those four men didn’t realize that this was the last job they would ever do for their family. They didn’t realize that their lives were going to be sacrificed for a war that was beginning to start, last night’s battle the first part. That was the only reason that four men were participating in this collection rather than only one or two; they were protecting each other in the case where soldiers from the other family might very well attack…They did.

Two cars, a blue and red one, came to a stop on the other side of the road. Cristoforo looked over at the two cars that parked and watched as eight men stepped out, all armed with assault rifles. His eyes opened wide and he watched as they made their way towards the café. Cristoforo stood quickly and moved towards an alley way to escape. The eight men raised their weapons and began to fire, not aiming at Cristoforo, but at the café in the hopes of hitting the four extortionists inside the café. Cristoforo dove into the alley way and groaned as bullet ricocheted off the walls. Inside the café, the four men had pulled out their weapons in the hopes of killing anyone that they could. Cristoforo looked up as the battle occurred and he watched men slowly dropping on the side of the attackers. Eight men, seven men, six men, he thought and watched as another died and then another. Finally, the firing ended, leaving very few men alive on the attacking side, half of what there was before. The four men split up into the other cars and drove off down the road, leaving the dead bodies on the ground. Cristoforo lay there for a moment, groaning softly before he pushed himself up and ran out onto the street. He was not sure what was driving him; however all he knew was that he had to run. As he ran, he skid to a stop and looked down at the dead bodies. He saw pistols on the ground and then grabbed two and slid them into his waste band of his jeans. He then ran off down the street to get away from the carnage before the cops got there and accused him of killing them.

Suddenly, Cristoforo was pulled into an alley way and a gun was pressed against his forehead. “So you’re one of those Benevantano Family soldiers!” the man accused of him, pulling back on the hammer. Cristoforo immediately came to the conclusion that this guy was a Depaolo Family soldier. Cristoforo looked at the man and shook his head quickly. “No, no, I’m not in Benevantano,” he said and cringed when he felt the man’s finger move over the trigger. I’m a dead man, I’m definitely going to die and I am not going to be able to see my sister again, he thought to himself as he stood there cringing. The man looked at him and then smirked. “You’re a filthy Benevantano liar!” he barked in Cristoforo’s face. “However…Maybe you are telling the truth,” the man said as he looked at Cristoforo. “Maybe you are just some innocent guy that is walking down the street…I don’t believe you though,” he said as he held Cristoforo against the wall. “That’s why, you’re going to go bust one of their gambling dens and take their money…You can keep the money, I don’t want it…Two Benevantano Capos will be there gambling some of their money away…The gambling den is below Angelo’s. If you kill them and the soldiers in there with them, then I’ll know you are who you are…If you don’t, I’ll make sure I kill your sister and then kill you,” he said. Cristoforo then realized that this man knew where he lived, knew about his sister and that he had no choice but to do the job. “Fine,” Cristoforo said, “I’ll do it. Give me a day.” The Depaolo soldier stood there for a moment and then nodded. He stepped back and slid his pistol away before he walked off to go take care of other business, probably the result of a few more dead bodies. Cristoforo didn’t care though. All that mattered to him was that he did the job so that his sister and he could live peacefully without any worries.

Cristoforo had been to Angelo’s before, so he knew where it was. He did not know, though, about the underground gambling ring that the Depaolo soldier had made mention to. Since when has Angelo’s have an underground gambling ring, he asked himself as he walked. Since when has Angelo’s even been loyal to Benevantano, he continued thinking before he sighed softly and crossed the street after two cars passed to head into the restaurant. The man let out a gentle sigh as he looked around. I need to eat something before I do this or I am going to pass out, he thought and moved over to take a seat in a very discreet location of the restaurant. He could watch the people walk into the restaurant, but unless they were really curious, people would not notice him looking at them. It was the ideal place for him to sit to watch for the two Capos to walk in. He would just wait for two powerful looking men to walk down a set of steps and he would know it was them. A waiter came over and took Cristoforo’s order, a simple veal dish, and then walked off to prepare it for him. Food, Cristoforo thought, that’s what I need if I am going to successfully lay these men to rest for good. His eyes flashed slightly when the door opened and he watched as four men walked in and then moved down the steps behind a door. He nodded his head and then watched a few other guys, people that were not gangsters, moving down the steps. Alright, he thought. There are two capos, a soldier with each and then gamblers. Alright, this seems easy enough, he thought to himself, even though it would be tough. He was just glad that he had the two pistols in his pants…At least he’d be able to release double the ammunition at once.

After eating his meal that had been delivered about five minutes after the Capos came in, the young Mafioso stood and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was beyond nervous and it showed with the slight bit of sweat on his forehead. He finally gathered his composure and made his way over to the door. Before anyone could say anything about him going down there, he pulled open the door and jogged down the steps. He pulled out his dual pistols as he made his way down and when he turned the corner, he saw six men sitting around at a table playing cards: two were the Capos, and the other four were just players that were gambling their money away to make more money for Benevantano. The two soldiers were currently putting money through an automatic counter. It was money that had been made in different jobs, each counting the money for the crew that their Capo ran. The Capos looked up and saw the guns aimed at their foreheads. They shook their heads and then made the daring move to go for their pistols. Cristoforo shot his pistol then without thinking and fired again. He then turned his attention over to the soldiers that were going for the pistols on the table. He shot a total of six rounds then and watched as the soldiers fell to the ground. Cristoforo walked into the room and watched the patrons sitting there nervous like no other. He shot each of the downed soldiers in the head once and then looked at the money on the table. He grabbed a bag and began to fill the bag with all the money. He then grabbed the extra ammunition from the different guns that had dropped on the ground and threw them in the bag. Once that was all done, he ran up the stairs and made his way out of the restaurant, people having already left when they heard the guns. Once more, he slipped away to escape police intervention. He had just proved that he was not a Benevantano soldier, but in the process, had now made enemies with that same family. Only time would tell before he would have to wage war with them once again, along with Depaolo.

~Done~

What I Want:
The Two Pistols
X amount of money[/font]


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PostPosted: Tue Mar 28, 2006 11:53 pm 
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Grabbed. An hour or so, please.

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Professional RPing eh? Try pretentious, boring, and snobbish.
When a staffer says your piece looks great- don't believe them. They're pulling your leg, trying to get you to stay here. The real critics are long gone and stabbed.


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PostPosted: Wed Mar 29, 2006 1:21 am 
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Enjoy the pistols, and perhaps- thirty thousand dollars? There could be more, but since it was just on the table, make do. An easy and lovely read. Sorry if I was too slow. Enjoy. :)

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Professional RPing eh? Try pretentious, boring, and snobbish.
When a staffer says your piece looks great- don't believe them. They're pulling your leg, trying to get you to stay here. The real critics are long gone and stabbed.


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