New Model City


Kenny Torres
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Kenny suddenly felt out of place with Nestore and the Don. He wanted to excuse himself, but he was afraid that doing so would be rude. He was also afraid that staying too long would be considered rude. So he was stuck, unsure of what to do or say. Kenny just kept his eyes glued on the ground and kept his mouth shut.


Clark's voice sent a shiver down Kenny's spine. He didn't know how to feel about the Capo. He got the job done, for sure. But the man himself left Kenny on edge. Kenny looked up at Clark and sent a small smile as a good morning. He felt extremely out of place. His hands fidgeted relentlessly underneath the table and his breakfast was untouched. 


@ShadowBroker @Vudukudu @Shireling
 

Eliza L. Marinello
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Eliza felt the tension leave her shoulders when Lorenzo turned to face her. He'd visibly relaxed from his previous angered state, though she knew he was still highly irritated. He and Nestore had always had a bit of a rocky relationship. She decided not to comment on his anger-fueled words toward Nestore. She felt a slight need to defend a man who was like an uncle to her, but didn't want to add fuel to Lorenzo's fire. Instead, she smiled at him and let the subject go.
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"I've been well. My parents and brother are still insistent upon me returning home, but I rather enjoy being away from home. I've established a life of my own in Downtown," she said. She took a seat in one of the chairs set up around a small glass table in front of the house and turned her gaze back to him. "What about you, Lorenzo? Where have you been lately?"
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Nestore gestures to Kenny, then to the door Lorenzo exited through. "Do eat, Mr. Torres. An injured body needs food. Do feel free to take your plate if you would like to leave, however. I was in your seat once, I understand being.. nervous." He says with a reassuring nod. 


He could hardly remember, truth be told. That was a long, long time ago. Back when he'd had political ambitions instead of familial ones. All the same, he'd seen it out of most of the younger men. Apprehension in the presence of leadership was normal. 


Clark, however, nagged at him for work. It appalled Nestore that one could so brazenly interrupt breakfast without invitation, but he didn't expect much more from one who called himself an animal. "You'll be assigned a task once I have one for you, Capo. Until then, keep yourself ready. Abandanos still draw breath, which means there will be work to do. Just not right now." 
 
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Lorenzo Cullen
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Lorenzo could tell she wasn't a fan of his Nestore comment, seeing he was her uncle. Honestly he had forgotten the man was related to her, and he hoped she wouldn't tell him that he said that. Frowning when she talked about her family, who treated her unfairly, always shielding her from the reality of their job. Maybe that's why she liked him, he was real with her, real with the animal he was. 
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Taking the seat across from her, and removing his cap, placing it on the table. Running his hand through his tossed hair he sighed. "The same old same old. Doing dirty work, the occasional mission, and getting chewed out. You know that feeling where you feel like your going in circles, going nowhere? That's me."
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Eliza L. Marinello
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Eliza sighed. She felt the same way when it came to the life she was living. It was the exact same thing, over and over again every day. She'd wake up, shower, and eat. Then she'd get a call from her mother and spend an hour listening to the woman try to convince to move back home. Then she'd do some work on one of her novels, though she knew none of them would ever be published. Writing was simply a hobby of hers used to pass the time. After lunch, her father would call and chat with her for a few minutes before returning to work. She'd work some more, then make dinner for herself. After dinner, she'd lounge around. Before she went to bed, she'd receive a phone call from her brother, and then she would sleep. And that was her each and every day. So she knew exactly how Lorenzo felt.
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"I understand. It feels like life is nothing but an endless cycle sometimes," she said. She tilted her head, looking at him from beneath long lashes. "So what happened last night? Nestore seemed upset and from the look of Torres, it was bad. I know it's probably not something you want to talk about, so if you wish not to tell me, you do not have too."
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[SIZE= 18px]@ReverseWells[/SIZE]
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T H E   S P I D E R
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Clark nodded towards Nestore, obviously in agreement as his hands unfold from the pockets, watching and hearing closely what he had to say, "Ah. Such an attitude... But lets watch this one..." he thought as his eyes catches Torres, eating alongside the prick of Nestore. Clark would smile back and reach his shoulder in kindness, "Torres. I heard what happened at the docks..." his smile switching to console the man, "If you need to talk... or just drink." he let go a small chuckling, "You might consider my offer once you get fix up." "And then you might tell me more of what you know about Mr Cullen's affairs... Clumsy, clumsy me. I forgot to add that to my offer." "You are not alone." he finished his statement as he made a step back, bowing his head slightly to both of the "gentlemen", so educated as always.


Clark walked back to the door, his eyes catching up both Lorenzo and Eliza before reaching the end of the door and stay near by his car. His arms would cross before his chest. His smile never fading away, never agitated, nervous or creepy. Just warm and calm. Although his eyes bright like the heart of a sun, as if he saw a miracle. 

 

Lorenzo Cullen
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Looking off towards the street, watching the cars whizz by, heading to the bustling Downtown. Turning his icy eyes back to Elisa, he leaned back in his chair, resting his arms on the arm rests. "Basically I was tasked with leading a group to the Waterfront to destroy a Abandons ship. I did so, but two men died. But there's always casualties in war, Nestore should know that. But i'll save my skin before anyone else, besides you." 
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Sighing, as he looked down at his watch. "You wanna grab coffee or something? I doubt i'll be needed seeing Nestore' current feelings. If he needs a Capo he can use the snake of a man Clark is." Saying the last part loud enough for Clark to hear.
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T H E   S P I D E R




Clark would smile back towards Lorenzo, his eyes staring at him for quite a while before he took something from his car, aim at the both of them and take a shot with his camera. A perfect picture he would keep, his smile doing nothing but getting wider. "Lone wolf. I may have found your weakness." his thoughts ignoring completely whatever words Mr Cullen could shout, admiring his ability to bark like a real dog.


Yet he would speak up to give Miss Eliza a fair, kind, warning, "Choose a table close by the car, Miss Marinello... or he might leave you as well." he chuckled, knowing of the past events with amazing details. He was the Spider after all, the man who knows. He kept the camera back on his car, his hands back to his pockets. Admiring the view.

 

Eliza L. Marinello
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She wasn't surprised by what Lorenzo said. He never had been one to put someone else's life before his own. Though she didn't miss it when he said he'd save her before he saved himself. She turned her face away slightly, smiling to herself. She got a lot of compliments from men, but she only really heard them when they came from Lorenzo. She had no clue why.
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"I would love to, Lorenzo," she said. She laughed at his obvious attempt to rile Clark's temper, but her laughter cut off when she noticed Clark snapping a picture of them. She frowned at the triumphant smirk on his face. God, was he ever unnerving. As she stood, he spoke.
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"Choose a table close by the car, Miss Marinello... or he might leave you as well," Clark chuckled. Eliza eyed him with contempt. How her father had even considered hiring the man was beyond her. "Noted, Mr. Smither. Shall we go, Lorenzo?"
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Lorenzo Cullen
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The rage that hat briefly left him had returned with more fuel. Standing up with such a force, Lorenzo made his way over to Clark, snatching the man by the neck and slamming himself against the man's front windshield. Hearing it begin to crack, his icy eyes were serious, but not firing with anger. "Fuck off. Next time I see you in my sight other than on a mission, or directly talking with anyone higher up i'll beat you to a bloody pulp. 
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(Sorry I had to have Lorenzo snap sooner or later.)
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(Ok sounds good, really sorry man. I kinda had to rush that post cause i'm in the middle of doing something. Apologies. :(  )


fixed
 

T H E   S P I D E R
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Clark watches how Lorenzo's true form shines, moving towards Clark but he doesn't change his smile, his eyes do not shake, his body remains quiet in all it's forms... but his mind, "Show me what you have, dog." then the beast like man takes him up and lays him against the windshield. He doesn't struggle or shows any kind of fear. But his heart beats faster, eager to continue. As the speechs comes to an end, Lorenzo will feel a very cold device near his belly, not being capable to see it because the way he pinned down Clark. His right arm would be already around him because of Lorenzo's need to push him, and Clark needs to pull. Mr Cullen wouldn't be able to move unless he struggle a lot, but for that was the cold device, resting on his belly.


"Feel that, Mr Cullen?" he whispers on his ear, pushing the object a bit more further within his clothes, "That is your life, clinging by a thread... I can cut it if you want. Give you peace... Your lady will be shocked but Don will understand... Nestore... the families of those you left behind, tail between your legs. But I admire you, Mr Cullen, I admire your devotion; I really do. You are a beast that can't be control, a wild animal." he smiled behind his ear, he left a dramatic silence, ensure the device will do it's duty if Mr Cullen moves before ordered, "Time to gamble, Mr Cullen. Will my little object reach your belly, cut you from balls to brains and see what you are made of, or... Will you walk away?"


He moved once more his left hand, pushing the metal device forward. Giving Mr Cullen two choices. Stay still and die, or walk away.
 
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Lorenzo Cullen
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His icy eyes looked down at the blade which rested on his vest, then looking back at Clark. Listening to his words carefully, feeling the blade slowly begin to press into his stomach. He could kill him right here, but risk his own life doing so. Or he could walk, leaving the psycho alive. Biting his inner lip, releasing his bear-like hands off of Clark's neck. He could see the blood vessels straining, he'd be bruised for sure. Stepping back slowly, stopping next to the camera. "So we're playing games eh? Well just so you know im not much of a gambling man, I like actions better. So Clark, endulge my clearly inferior brain on this." Removing his gun from his vest, aiming it at the man, keeping eye-contact with the manic man the entire time.
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(hope i didn't overdue it again.)
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T H E   S P I D E R
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Clark would eventually start to laugh as Lorenzo walks backwards, pointing the gun against Clark while the supposed blade was not a blade at all but the small hidden gun he had on his left sleeve. "Mr Cullen, you disappoint me." he took the very small gun back to his sleeve, his crooked smile still there as he stares him down, speaking out loud, "Mr Cullen! You should not point guns at the members of your own family!" the very moment The Spider starts to scream, almost sounding with panic that he impressively pretended, soldiers and others members would arrive to meet Mr Cullen, The Spider's soldiers (which are three )would slowly surround him with guns aiming at him. "Wasn't enough with killing the two men on the Docks, Mr Cullen?" he spoke once more, ready to duck and take the gun inside his coat if need be, but he knew Mr Cullen already made his choice. "Now everyone can see you by what you are, Lorenzo. A kin-slayer."

 
The sound of a scream outside can be heard even in the dining room, and a glance out the window shows a group of men gathered around with weapons drawn. All Marinello men, men he recognized. In uncharacteristic rage, Nestore stands, overturning his chair as he grabs his cane. "I am surrounded by fools and dogs! Surrounded!" Nestore bellows, drawing gasps from half the house who can hear him. The Consigliere lurches out of the dining room hurriedly, ignoring the flaring pain in his hip as he pushes his arthritic body beyond its usual endeavors. A guard who attempts to steady him is met with a thump of Nestore's cane against his shin, sending the man hopping away on one leg as Nestore curses in a spattering of English, Italian, and Latin. 


Once he is outside, he steadies himself, striking the very image of dignity as he taps his way across the cobblestone toward the altercation. Once within talking distance of the bunch, he slows down, drawing his Civil War-era revolver from his coat and pointing it into the air. He cocks the hammer back and pulls the trigger, sending a bullet skyward with a sharp crack before holstering the weapon. 


"Look at yourselves! Look. At. Yourselves." Nestore hisses, jabbing his cane at each of them. "Animals. Filthy f****** animals, you are. This is a family, you pig-screwing sons of whores! Drop your weapons, or so help me god I will have every man in this compound take a turn beating you with whips! No excuses. Just put the weapons down or I will have the lot of you sent on the first ship to Africa with your geni**** pinned to your collars!" 
 

T H E   S P I D E R
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Clark would be almost laughing out loud on the inside, but his face would be very serious, almost scare. Good thing the gun he had on his left sleeve was both too small and well positional to be detected at the distance. As much as Nestore would be concern, the only thing he would see is Mr Cullen pointing his gun towards Clark, and soldiers requesting Mr Cullen to drop it. Nestore's claims would only give neutrality to the situation, but not Clark, he would look always a victim, regardless of the thoughts of everyone.


The Spider would raise his hands over his head and speak once more, "You heard him, Mr Cullen." he eyes back to the men behind, Lorenzo, the soldiers would slowly put the guns down, but their eyes would be all on Mr Cullen. "Priceless... Just priceless..."
 
(Excuse how shit this post will be. I'm exhausted)


Kenny looked nervously at Nestore when he was told he should eat, and that he could take his plate with him if he wanted. He didn't know what to do. If he sat there and ate he would feel incredibly awkward, but if he took his plate he would be just as awkward. He couldn't decide. Luckily, he didn't have to. Clark spoke to Kenny about getting a drink and Kenny smiled brightly. Perhaps he had misjudged Clark. He nodded and said a quick thanks, very surprised about how he was being treated today. People seemed to be extremely interested in his comfort and healing. It was strange.


Then there was a scream outside. Nestore left the table in complete fury, shouting about animals of some kind. Kenny jumped to his feet and followed after Nestore, as he was scared. He had to know what was going on. In his hurry after Nestore, Kenny forgot that he was concussed and dizzy. Speed plus dizzy plus tired equals... falling. Kenny fell face first onto the concrete sidewalk outside of the compound. He groaned, trying to get up, but found himself unable to. Every attempt at getting up sent fiery pain through his ribs. So instead he just lifted his head to see what was going on.


Kenny felt his heart stop for a moment. He didn't want to believe what he was seeing. What the hell was Cullen thinking? There was no way he'd go after Clark unprovoked, right? Then again, Cullen did just get chewed out by Nestore so he could have just snapped at Clark for no good reason. Kenny found the strength to sit up, despite the agony it caused in his ribcage, and watched the scene silently. 
 

Lorenzo Cullen
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Listneing to Clark's words carefully, he began to plan an escape. Eliza could get the car maybe, drive him off to the country, he could hang low for awhile. But his thoughts were short-lived as he heard the stumbling of none other than his favorite person, Nestore.
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He could do it. Shoot the damn man, send him off to Hell with a bang. Or maybe he could shoot him in a less harmless place, like the leg. Not for one moment losing eye contact with the Spider he made up his mind. Lorenzo fired three shots, two aimed for the Spider, and the final in the air. Lorenzo prayed one could hit his target.
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(eeeek i'm in deep shit rn)
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T H E   S P I D E R
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Clark already planned on ducking the moment he saw Lorenzo aiming his gun against him. He reacted as expected, ducking as the first shot which was aimlessly directed towards him would reach the car instead. There would only be two seconds to move accordingly before the second shot in which Clark couldn't do much. Mr Cullen's weapon would have follow Clark back towards the body (Center mass) in order to fire again. The fact Clark had ducked to dodge the fire of the gun wouldn't give him enough time to plan on where to move afterwards, the second bullet would reach Clark's left shoulder while the whole body falls to his right.


Clark's men would rush against Mr Cullen right after the first shot, tackle him and pinned him down. The first would ensure to disarm the beast from it's weapon at the very moment the third shot was fired, exposing him and his weapon to anyone close enough to do something. The second would aim to his legs, wrapping his arms around them and pull in order to force him to fall on the ground.


The Spider remained on the ground, body laying there doing nothing but to struggle. Hopefully, the bullet pass right through, a clean wound. Yet it hurt like the seven hells combined. "I own you dog..." he thought for himself as he remained down, holding the wound with his left hand, crawling to his car in order to stand up once more. 


(in a hurry! )
 

Marinello Compound
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After the final shots had rung in the air, Don Marinello emerged in the doorway. Unlike Nestore's fury, the Don had an almost pained expression of grief on his face. 


"What happened here?" He asked. A soldier came and whispered briefly in his ear, and his grey grandfather eyes fell on Lorenzo, being restrained by Smither's soldatos. Don Marinello approached uncharacteristically close to Lorenzo and began to speak. 


"I let you into this family, Lorenzo. When you were alone and without anyone. I took pity on you. Because of everything you lost fighting against the Huns." He said, referring to his service in World War One. "You have been a good man for me for years, a faithful servant." The Don frowned. "I give you more than just money, Lorenzo. I give you a family." 


He looked him up and down. "Is this how you repay family?" 


He glanced at the guards who were restraining Lorenzo. "Let him go." 


They looked at each other, but released their hold on Lorenzo. He could bolt if he wanted to. 


"If you stay, Lorenzo. You will have to earn back our trust. All of it. You will have to reassume the mantle of a Soldato. But you can be forgiven." He gestured to the driveway. "Or you can leave. And if you find yourself carrying a gun for our enemies," he paused, "I'll kill you myself." 
 

Lorenzo Cullen
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As soon as the final shot rang off, Lorenzo felt a mass of soldiers upon his back. Hitting the concrete with such a force, feeling the cut on his temple from the nigh before split. Sadly he knew none of his shots had been fatal, but at least when he did get the chance to murder the man he'd have a advantage.
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Hearing the Don emerge from the household, which was inevitable at this point, he knew he'd be disappointed. Feeling the soldiers release their hold, Lorenzo pushed himself off the ground, dusting off his shirt. Taking a deep breath, listening to the words carefully. He could stay, but he'd defitantly be ridiculed and ostracized, but he'd still have a chance with Elisa. Or he could leave, start his own gang, or join another, get his revenge without a large reproduction. Making his way to the glass table, hands in the air to assure the soldiers, and picked up his hat. Placing it on his head, pulling it over his eyes , he sighed. "I appreciate your kindness in my time of need Sir. But i'm sorry to say i've never been a fan of my Italian roots. Auf  wiedersehen." Tipping his hat, Lorenzo turned around and walked off, dissapearing into the growing crowd in the Italian Quater.
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Tenement House
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14th Street, New Limmerick
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"We found a rifle, boss." One of the men said, handing an old, notched Sharps rifle to Henry Kelly. The Killer looked around the tenement apartment with keen, murderous eyes. He looked back to the family that they were shaking down, handcuffed to the kitchen table. 


"Why do you need a rifle?" Henry asked, slamming the weapon down on the table. 


The man began muttering unintelligible words in a language Henry didn't have a prayer of understanding. The man sitting handcuffed to the table was one Dniper Sakalovski, a Polish immigrant and owner of a butcher's shop that refused to pay protection. On Kelly turf, nobody was to have a gun unless they had a Gaelic mark on the butt of the weapon. It was decidedly absent. 


One of his soldiers spoke up, "He says that he was hired by a man who says his name was something with an A. He paid cash in advance. It was to shoot at an Italian, he says." 


"Did you shoot at the Italians?" Henry asked. The question was relayed. 


"He says that he shot at a white Cadilac on the bridge and killed the driver. He says it was just Italians and he doesn't understand why he's in trouble." 


"The gun." Henry paused. "And for trying to kill my fuckin' kid sister, fucking Pollack!" Henry grabbed the man by the collar and hauled him out of his chair, breaking his wrist to get him out of the handcuffs. His wife and children began screaming uncontrollably before the Kelly soldiers trained their machine guns on them. 


Henry hauled Mr. Sakalovski to the window, and smashed his body head first through the panes. His soldiers looked on, seemingly unconcerned. 


"You tell me the guy's name!" He shouted, with his man shouting a translation behind him. 


"Tell me!" 


All the Polish man could do was sputter out disconected phrases in Polish and German. Henry screwed up his face, then tossed the man through the broken window, hearing his body hit the street with a sinister crunch. 


The man's family burst into renewed tears. They were left cuffed to the table as the Kellies fled the scene. 


Warehouse Basement
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New Limmerick
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Adolfo leaned weakly against the wall, beaten and bloodied and waiting to die. He was sure this would be how his life ended. He'd kill that whore Darcy if he ever got the chance. 


The doors swung open and a tall man emerged in the doorway. It was Henry, for sure, and Adolfo was sure this would be his end. The tall gangster strode right up to him...and began untying his restraints. 


"What are you doing?" He bleared weakly. 


"Your family didn't try to kill Darcy. We found the sniper. Now you have to come with me and explain the mistake." 


Adolfo's head spun and he bleared again. "Told you." 


"No hard feelings, alright?" 


"I would've done the same to you." 


"Glad we're good, pisan." 


"Oh, don't think I won't give you shit about this." 


They looked at each other and smiled tiredly. 
 

Marinello Compound
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Just as this entire dramatic encounter had occurred and as some of the Marinello men were helping Clark into a car to drive him to the clinic, one of the guards from the guardhouse at the end of the drive came running up to the house.


"Don Marinello! Don Marinello! Someone get Don Marinello!"


The men all turned to see a youngish guard with some sort of package in his arms. Suddenly, an old Ford flew up the drive and slammed on the brakes, but not quick enough to keep the young man from flying over the hood and landing on the backside of the car. A tall man stepped out of the driver's seat.


"Are you alright, boy-o? I didn't see you there!" The man said with some concern.


"Don Marinello!" The young man said, rising to his feet. "I've got it, a Sicilian message! Adolfo sleeps with the fishes!"


There was a gasp. Everyone turned to look at the tall stranger in the green coat as if asking who he was, while Don Marinello looked particularly battered. The courtyard was abuzz with chaos and emotion. Suddenly, another man stepped out of the car from the passenger side. Adolfo in the flesh. He had obviously been worked over, but the blood had been cleaned off and he looked presentable at least. The young soldier looked aghast, like he was seeing a ghost. Don Marinello's face returned to it's normal tense grandfatherly expression.


"So Adolfo, I see you've brought your friend. And you've already died once today."


Adolfo smirked and took his vest back from the soldier, "Thank you for getting that for me, son." He let the ice and dead fish fall out of it. "It could use a wash. Let's all go inside."
 
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