Great souls have wills; feeble ones have only wishes.

Dante Novello · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Dante Novello** on Sat Apr 22, 2006 3:51 am

Dante fled into the darkness of Florence. He ran for what seemed like hours, as his mind raced along with his feet. He kept chanting over and over again She is my light, my life, my love. I must be possessed. He stopped suddenly down a dark alley way, and threw up the contents of his stomach. He retched over and over again in what seemed his body's attempt to purify his soul from the grievous sin that he had committed. When he finally regained his composure, he stood up and looked around trying to figure out where he is. As his eyes wandered down the alley, he saw the sign for a small run down motel, and he made his way for it. I am filth.

He walks into the lobby of the motel, his green eyes red with fatigue, and emotion. The elderly lady standing behind the counter gawked at his well tailored clothes. The curiosity about why such an apparently wealthy person was doing in her motel was beyond reckoning. He asks for a room, and she gives him one of the best she has. She flips the page on the registry so he can check in, and then rings him up for night. He signs the book, lays down a wad of cash, takes the key and heads up to his room. The lady stares at him as he walks away, and then down at the name in the book, "Anthony Fiascano." Well Anthony, she thinks to herself, I hope you enjoy your stay. She smiles as she counts the money on the counter, and then puts half of it into her purse.

Meanwhile, Dante had reached his room. He jiggles the key in the lock, and after struggling for a bit, the door unlocks, and he kicks the door open. He stands at the threshold of the room, and stares at the brown worn carpet, the queen sized bed with thread bare sheets. He walks into the room and notices that there is a very well stocked mini bar. He immediately grabs the bottle closest to him, cracks it open, and gulps the whole thing down in one swallow. He tosses the bottle to the floor and grabs another, and another and another. Repeating the same process over and over again until the mini bar is empty, and the floor is littered with bottles. He stumbles over to the bed and falls onto it face first. With a loud sob he cries,

"SERAPHINA!!!!!'

Dante Novello · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Dante Novello** on Sun Apr 23, 2006 1:51 pm

Dante's yell for Seraphina echoed through his room and down the hallway of the run down motel. Several people opened the doors to their rooms and looked out into the hallway in curiosity. When not finding anything, they close their doors and go back to what they are doing.

Dante slides off the bed, tears streaming down his face. His hands hang loosely in his lap, and his shoulders slumped over with the weight of what he has done. He sits up suddenly, his face contorting in the rage that is building up within him. That bitch got what she deserved! How DARE she insult me like that! Swifter then most people would think possible for one so drunk, he stands up, picks up the bottles and begins to throw them with all his strength.

"You bitch!"

The bottles shatter into a million pieces, just like the fragility of his soul, against the wall.

With the last throw, he stumbles and falls flat on his face into the broken glass. He pushes himself up onto all fours, and heaves the liquid contents of his stomach. Gasping for air, he falls into his own waste and passes out.

Zeke · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zeke** on Sun Apr 23, 2006 7:01 pm

When Dante wakes up he is sitting up leaning against the side of the bed. Next to the liquid. His eyes first lay sight upon the bright red gloves on his shoulders. He then finds them attached to a man dressed in all black with burning red eyes and bright red hair. His eyes were cold and narrowed as Dante regained consciousness. Zeke looked him over once.
"Dante Novello?"
Dante's head rolled down a little and looked him up and down as he nodded.
"Hungover Mr. Novello? Do you have a head ache?"
Zeke kept holding him up as he did his best to muster a few notable words Zeke could only assume it was a yes. Zeke smiled.
"Mr. Novello, my name is Ezekiel. I chose it because of biblical reference. Those of which I can only assume you know."
Zeke reached into his long black trench coat and pulled out one of his five-sevens. He placed the barrel against Dante's forehead.
"Just, ah, think of me as an angel of retriubution."
Zeke pulled back the hammer of the pistol and started to squeeze the trigger, as he did so he quickly swung the pistol to the left and smacked Dante across the mouth with it. Which almost immediately gave him a fat lip.
"If you even think Mrs. Faile's name again, I will hunt you down. And THEN I will rip your heart out and stick it in your face, so you can see how black it is, before I shove it down your throat. Understand?"

Dante Novello · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Dante Novello** on Sun Apr 23, 2006 9:57 pm

Dante takes his fingers to his lips and then looks at them. Blood stains their tips. He looks up at Zeke, his face being one of shock. He licks his lips, the metallic taste saturating his taste buds. He narrows his eyes at Zeke, the anger demon raising it's head slightly. He pulls himself up slowly from the floor, he slowly pulls himself erect and looks Zeke directly in the eyes.

"I cannot help but think of her as she is my cousin. If that means you must shove it down my throat, so be it. I, however, would like to find out how you found me, as I had checked into this motel under an assumed name."

He wavers slightly on his feet, anger the only thing giving him strength to face this new advisary.

Zeke · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zeke** on Mon Apr 24, 2006 10:07 am

Zeke's hand dissappeared inside his long coat with the pistol, and returned after some rumaging with a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and lit it. His red gloves flowed over the lappels of the trench coat as he adjusted the collar with two strong and quick tugs.
Zeke took the cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled it right into Dante's face.
"It's part of my job to find people."
He turned around and began to head toward the door it was almost time to leave he realized as he looked up at the sun. Stopping on the patio he turned back.
"And if you don't leave Seraphina away, you will understand very quickly the other part of my job Mr. Novello."
[desc]And with that Zeke turned and dissappeared.

Dante Novello · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Dante Novello** on Mon Apr 24, 2006 1:11 pm

Dante sits down hard on the bed after Zeke leaves. His hands shaking he tries to light a cigarette and fails several times before getting it lit. Taking a deep drag, he tries to steady his nerves. He sits there thinking about what had just transpired. He smiles slightly.

"Ambassador Faile huh?"

With a chuckle he stands up slowly, his head still reeling from the alcohol and the punch. He steadies himself, and walks down the stairs and out of the motel. He grabs a cab and heads to his apartment deep within the heart of Florence.

Dante Novello · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Dante Novello** on Thu Apr 27, 2006 10:40 pm

ooc: Assume this whole conversation is done in Italian.

Back at his apartment, Dante paces in his office arguing with himself.

"What if she goes to the cops? I can't stay here. I would be toast. I bet the whole family knows. I am such a disgrace to the Novello family.

With a heavy sigh, he stops his pacing and turns on a TV in the corner. A background story on the colonies is playing on the history channel. He stares at it dumbfounded.

"I should go there! No one will find me there at all."

He smiles to himself and begins to pack some of his belongings. He stops in his bathroom and begins to pack his personal hygiene items when he looks up into the mirror. His haunting green eyes stare back at him accusingly. Coward. In a swift move he shatters the mirror, and then finishes packing. He looks around the apartment one last time, and walks out the door to begin a new life.

Great souls have wills; feeble ones have only wishes.

a topic in Gundam Wing: Continuing Legend, a part of the RPG forum.

Great souls have wills; feeble ones have only wishes.

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