What he had intended to do, was fall to the floor and then pick himself back up. However, the the floor seem to slip out from under him and there was no way to go but out as he spun slightly with the force the bullet had projected onto him. It wasn't like they showed in the movies, he didn't go flying backwards but the impact did affect his own momentum. His eyes caught the sight of his reflection before his face slammed into the double-wide pane.
The eyes that stared back him were ones of questioning. How the hell could this have happened? His face went through the window as every thing slowed to a crawl. The shattering glass like remnants of the night sky; diamonds every where, glinting and sparkling. They almost seemed to have their own sun behind each of them as he swam through a sea of fragmented serrated shards.
Initially, he fell with his face towards the ground. His eyes gazing down at the mass of people. Had they come to see him? To see him fall? As blood passed over his fingers as it surly did his lips, the bitter taste of iron saturated ever single taste bud on his tongue he closed his eyes. Using the last bit of strength in him, he turned his body to fall fat on his back.
With his face skywards, his tousled brown hair feeling like it were barely waving though he knew surely he had to be moving faster than what it seemed. Nickolai opened his eyes, staring up in time to see his brother lean out and watch him plummet presumably to his death. Nickolai could not hold back the onslaught of questions within his own heart.
He couldn't bring himself to reach out for his brother as he fell, much less scream or even whisper. His body fell endlessly. He asked himself many times, why he accepted this lifestyle. Why he went down this road. He could not think of an answer to give his mind the solace it so desperately needed. In the back of his mind, his life played out like a movie on a big silver screen.
Reoccurring nightmares, far away dreams. Peaceful times. Happy times. He even for some reason, recall a time when he and his brother were inseparable. Back before he fell into abusing drugs, and his many sexual encounters. Back when they were children. It was a time wen the innocence was to be taken from them. As the older brother, Nick felt it was his duty to shield Nico from the truth. Back then, he never wanted this life for his brother. He never wanted Nico to know what it was to stain and sully his hands in the blood of men.
Where had he gone so wrong? Maybe it was when he began testing his father's patience with him. Nick always had an ego their father never liked. That can do attitude he had said to him, would cost him more than his own life in the business. "Your actions speak for everyone," he castigated," not just you."
Nickolai sat quietly in the empty auditorium inside his mind. His eyes glazed over as they fell from the screen replay events in his life in black and white like it were and old time movie. The screen began to bleed through, bright vermilion holes burning through the pictures faces and slowly engulfing the whole screen. Maybe he didn't have what it took to run Ventrue. Maybe he never did. Maybe his brother was right.
Looking back up, the room a blazing inferno around his subconscious. The last images on his reeling thoughts were Nick at age 5 and Nico at age 4. Nick was leading his brother around outside their home by the hand. The reel then went blank.
Nick landed with sudden impact, the force was such that he 'bounced'. But his arms had managed to protect his brain case for he most part. He had collided with the Waldorf's outward extending entry way roof. He lie motionless on his back. His legs broken, his arms broken. Blood was pooling out around him and descending to the edges of the roof and dripping.
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“Nicodemus”, she breathed out tears pouring from her eyes, was he truly so cruel, so evil she had heard every word. Layla shook her head in disbelief.
“If you can't pull the trigger on those whom are closest to you, then you aren't fit to be a king. Because it is those closet...that try to kill you"
The words swirled around in her head like a hive of wasps stirred up, and stinging. She couldn't believe that this man standing before her looking down at his fallen brother,the man she loved with every piece of her heart was so evil. “Do you really feel that way Nico, do you truly believe that I would be so evil and cruel to try to kill the man I love with every fiber of my being”, she began to hyperventilate. And the she collapsed into a ball of humanity on the floor.
Nicodemus stood at the broken double pane, looking out over the edge. His eyes bearing witness to his brother's demise but coldly he would turn away. Still holding his sidearm out to the side, he pushed the small lever into 'safety' mode and then tucked the handgun into the brim of his pants, letting it rest against his well muscled and now sweaty stomach. He tore the sleeves off his dress shirt, wearing it more like vest or a tank top since it was ruined anyways.
Stepping over to a collapsed Layla, he only paused briefly.
"Perhaps, you forget your place," He spoke in a chillingly calloused manner while standing over her. " I don't need to trust you, that is not your job.It is not your job to be trusted. But if it makes you feel any better, if it makes you sleep better at night--then go," He lifted an arm out and pointed down the still burning hallway towards the stairwell. "I release you, go find someone who trusts you."
Lowering his arm, he stepped back in his apartment and marched past Lilianna his face holding great contempt. He went back into his ruined room, retrieved a pair of black dress sock and put them on before slipping his dress shoes on. He tore at the ruined dress shirt he threw it on and quickly buttoned it and tucked it too beneath the brim of his pants.
Emerging from his bedroom, the apart destroyed with the flames spreading slowly due to the air venting oxygen the the ravishing flames that burned the walls threatening the occupants. Yet, Nico was calm and collected as he opened the rooms refrigerator and with drew a bottle of whiskey and pulled himself a small 6 ounce glass. Downing the glass with one gulp he set the glass down. Something in that moment changed about Nico. His presence would seem to negate the flames as he stood facing away from Lilliana at first.
Turning, her eyes would see the remarkable coldness that he was so known for. He stepped out from around the island and stopped momentarily.
"You're released as well, miss Sisieti. You had better hope that I don't catch that cousin of yours, and that your father knew absolutely nothing about the bank robbery. You'll be two less family members." He stared her directly in the eyes with out blinking. Not a smile on his lips, but the look of a serpent about ready to strike. "I really should take care of you now, let that bastard of a cousin see you plummet and let him come and try something. But, I think I'll let you go, for now." He nonchalantly pivoted, stepping through the flames themselves leaving both Layla and Liliana alone in the room.
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ACT 2
After Nickolai fell from Nico's suite, Nico reigned supreme and unchallenged at first. The city was in the palm of his hand. He ruled with an iron fist. Anyone caught, suspected of treachery, larceny or lying about the attacks or the bank heist was either arrested...or killed. He became, like all leaders typically do, suspecting of his employees. Skip ahead a few months, and New York was getting torched almost nightly. The grand city would see its greatest amount of arson in its history--or at least that's what we told the public. What was really happening was the Russians had begun to make their move. Their ships docked and their people now integrated into the masses and complicatedly so. But in the midst of this, Nick and Vivian were in the custody of an MJ12 Overlord named Alphonse.
Time: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Unknown
Location: Unknown
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