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Richard (Dickie) Glenmore

"Yeah, what'll you have? Do I know how to make a Red Eye? Hah! Of course I do, I'll have that right up for ya."

0 · 557 views · located in Boston, Ma

a character in “The Santoro Family Mob”, as played by BAWADABOO


Image Name:
Richard Glenmore (Blanch)

Dickie, Deckard Greene



Birth Date:
A gentleman wouldn't ask, and a lady wouldn't tell.


Straight as an arrow


I've got a few knicks, knocks, and bumps but nothing keeps me up at night. I don't tattoo or pierce anything. No distinguishing marks ya know.


Dickie Glenmoore, the young unassuming bartender, is not what most people see when they think of a "made man." His inviting smile and lazy clothing marks him as an innocent yuppie, just trying to work his way up the nightclub world. From behind his bar he greets every customer and clubber with a quirky smile and a raised eyebrow. He'll ask them what they'll have, usually they want a simple cocktail or a shot. He makes small talk while he juggles bottles and fruits. It's all part of the job. He produces the drink with a quick slide of the glass into the clubber's hand. He narrows his brow and waits for the look of delight as they take a drink. It may be the perfection of his mixes, or it may be the alcohol working its magic. Either way, Dickie never leaves a customer unsatisfied.

Bartender is just one of the many hats Dickie wears over the course of the day. Earlier in the day, when Black Violet's is closed, Dickie puts on his Club Owner hat. Very few people know this, as he doesn't advertise it, but Dickie owns Black Violet's. He sits alone in his office "working," in a manner of speaking. He usually out-sources the club ownership responsibilities to mob underlings. All big decisions go through him, but oftentimes he doesn't have the time to deal with trivial club bullshit. His real job demands most of his time.

As adviser to Mr. Santoro most of the big mob business goes through him. The Boss needn't be bothered with menial matters like "The hit is complete," or "The protection money is in," so all of this is reported to Dickie. He keeps records on everything and only reports to the boss on the things that truly matter, everything else is shoved in a drawer. There is hardly a moment in the day Dickie isn't working. He has no biological family, the only thing cares about is keeping the Santoros above water. He owes everything to Mr. Santoro, and he does whatever it takes to keep his Boss from losing everything he's worked so hard for.

Though he works very hard, he does not let it consume him. His favorite time of the day is when he's working the bar. He loves to meet people and make connections. No one goes to a Black Violet's unless they want to have a good time, and there is no one better to have a good time with than Dickie. He knows all of the regulars, and makes it a point to learn everything he can about everyone. This is partly because he loves to make friends, and partly because he wants to screen them to make sure they dont pose a threat to the Santoros.

Anonymity is everything to Dickie. No one but his family knows he is really Richard Blanch, but to everyone else he is Dick or Dickie. He lives his life in a shadow of secrecy to protect himself and those he cares about.

Juggling, Drinking, Mixing Drinks, Setting up new contacts.

Adviser and negotiator for the Santoro family.

Relationship Status: Nothing
Family: Only the Santoros
Known Languages: English, loose Italian

Richard was born in New Hampshire to a loving wealthy family. He was homeschooled until high-school by private teachers hired by his parents. They tried their best, but often didn't have enough time for him. He was never upset by this. He understood. Business is business, and sometimes you need to make sacrifices. On the bright side, whenever his parents did have time off they took Richard across oceans and countries on vacations. Richard loved his parents dearly, which made it all the worse when they were killed when he was 14.

No one was ever convicted for the murder of Cherish and Hank Blanch. There was never enough evidence, or a potential witness would vanish. It was all pretty strange.

Rich had a rough time of it in high-school. He had no other family, so he was sent to live with a family friend by the name of Vince Santoro . The two had met a few times before when the Blanch's had dinner parties and such, so the adjustment wasn't horrible. Still, adolescence without family is tough, even with the fortune they'd left him.

Every now and then Rich and Vince would go to see Uncle Carlos. Uncle Carlos lived in a huge house, a house way bigger than Vince's. Vince and Carlos would steal away to an office and leave Rich alone in the living room. It was on these visits that Rich met the rest of the Santoro family.

Rich had always known something was off with the Santoros. Vince spent most of his time in his office, and lots of men in black came and went daily. Rich was 16 at this time and had his suspicions. His cousin Giovanni seemed to know what was up, at least more than Rich did, so he asked him about it. Gio told him it was none of his business and that he should just forget about it. Apparently he wasn't "A real member of the family." Rich had no idea what that meant. Despite all the secrecy though, Rich and Vince had a great relationship. Whenever Vince was not working the two would hit the town, most of the time heading to a nightclub to drink and dance. Rich learned nearly everything he knows about the street from Vince.

Dickie lives his life in under the shadow of anonymity. His birth parents have a history, they have enemies, and he doesn't want that coming back to bite him. He's living a dangerous life, and his parents mistakes will do nothing but exacerbate it. When Vince died and Dickie took over Black Violet's he decided to burn all of his records, change his name, and get a new identity. He's been Dickie Glenmore for five years now, and everyone except for the Santinos only know him as the bartender from Black Violet's. Little do they know that he owns the place.

Black Violet's is officially owned by a fellow named Deckard Greene. Mr. Greene is also the main informant and adviser to Mr. Santino. Greene has a full file and birth records, a social security number, even a passport. Even if he doesn't exist, the guy should still be allowed to travel.

So begins...

Richard (Dickie) Glenmore's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Richard (Dickie) Glenmore
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Dickie Glenmore rubbed his temples vigorously as he fell into his leather office chair. His brain angrily pounded from stress of micro-managing the idiocy that was plaguing his employees this afternoon. How many things could go wrong at one time, and just how much thought does it take to deal with the simple problems that manifest during a night of drunken debauchery? Just this morning he had to deal with: A restroom painted... literally painted with vomit, several broken martini glasses, and oddly a few pairs of underwear strewn about. Both genders...

Dickie shuddered in disgust. The thought of some of the people at the club last night... getting hot and heavy... in public...


He drew the desk phone off the receiver and got on the horn with the cleaning crew. "Uhh, someone mop down the dance floor... like the entire thing. Yes the entire thing. Don't ask me why, just do it." Resisting the urge to slam the phone, he couldn't bear the thought of certain secretions stewing in his club. He had a reputation to protect. You don't get to be the hippest club in town by leaving sex stains on the dance floor.

Honestly though. How are the people he hired as 'cleanup' unable to grasp the concept of cleaning puke off the walls of a restroom. It's literally common sense. It's not difficult.

With a deep sigh he returned to rubbing his temples as he slid deeper into his chair, resting his eyes. Last night was a rager, and though he usually stayed up the whole night tending the bar anyway, it's always worse when it's a huge crowd. Weekends were always the busiest, of course, but last night was just... rough.

Through the late nights, the busy mornings, and the dutiful afternoons Dick hadn't gotten much sleep. He heard the phone ring, but he was already slipping off the earth and decided to ignore it. It could wait until later, it was Monday, the club would be pretty dull ton..igh....


Lights slowly filtered back into Dickie's world. He grumbled quietly to himself. He had promised himself he wouldn't fall asleep in his chair again. He always awoke with a sore ass when he did. He fluttered his eyes open and sat upright. His headache had subsided, so that was a good thing. Dick smirked and pushed himself to his feet. He arched his back with a slight moan while he fished in his pocket for his cell phone. He flicked it on and checked the time. Good, he hadn't missed the meeting with Mr. Santoro.

Cell phone back in place, Dickie whipped his brown suede jacket off the coat hanger and slid it on as he backed out the door, hitting the lights on the way out.

He'd have to cross the dance floor to get to the exit. A smile crept across his lips as he scanned his now immaculate nightclub. Good work boys. He gave a nod and a wink to the yuppie leaning on his mop near the exit as praise. The door opened for him, as it often does, and Dickie flashed a smile to the doorman. "Much appreciated"

Santoro Inc. was across town. It would be a good thirty minutes to get there, but Dickie was fine with that. He would have some time to relax, something he doesn't get often enough for his taste. He whisked the phone from his coat pocket and dialed a number, then quickly hung up. Soon enough he was greeted by a jet black luxury sedan. He could never remember what model, because he didn't care. As long as it got him where he needed to be it was good enough for him. His driver Malachi gave a nod as Dickie climbed into the passenger seat. "Santoro Inc. Mal"

Thirty minutes down the road had Dickie walking into yet another door opened for him. He nodded politely to the doormen and headed for the elevator. He still wasn't quite comfortable with the pampering he had been given by the Santoro's, but he wasn't gonna complain. He was way more fortunate than most.

The elevator rose smoothly and quickly, approaching the top floor with haste. Yeah, he was a bit early, but as his adoptive father always said, "if you're on time, you're late." The doors slid open and he was greeted with a long hallway. He stepped out, hands in pockets, and headed for the third door on the left.

He pushed the door open and smiled at his aunt and uncle. "Afternoon Mr. Santoro, Mrs. Santoro. Am I the first one here?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Santoro Character Portrait: Richard (Dickie) Glenmore
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#, as written by Cloud

Time: 12.48 am
Location: The Second Hottest Club in Bosten

Alexandra Giana Santoro, youngest daughter of Carlos Santoro and Adriana Petri-Santoro, raised herself to the full extent of her 5'6" frame and stared the hulking giant in the eye. "Do you have any idea who I am?" She demanded, "I don't care if the club is full. If you don't let me in..." The bouncer, a particularly dimwitted man with more brawns than brains, cut her off with a sharp laugh, "Or what? You'll tell Daddy?"
Lexie raised an eyebrow and her lips formed into a smirk. No doubt the bouncer thought that he was being funny. He had no idea who Lexie's father was, which was probably why he hadn't let her into the club yet. If Lexie did tell her father, she could guarantee that this bouncer would never work again, or walk... depending what she told Daddy.

"Perhaps I will." She replied, "But first why don't you check with your boss. Tell him Lexie Santoro wants in." The bouncer didn't even have to ring up his superior, as soon as Lexie told him her name his eyes widened, his skin visibly whitened and the smirk that had been plastered on his face was replaced with an expression of horrified realisation. The man might not have recognised Lexie, but he had certainly been in Boston long enough to recognise the Santoro name and to understand everything that went with it. Doing nothing to hide her satisfied and triumphant expression, Lexie breezed passed him, pulling her small entourage with her.

The club had nothing on Black Violets, the undisputed hottest club in Boston. Lexie would have preferred Black Violets over this place any day, but she had to admit it was nice to sometimes get away from the usual. Besides, her best friend Indie had particularly insisted that they come, most likely because Indie's current boy toy of the week would be there. True enough, within minutes of entering the place Indie vanished into the crowd, her multicoloured hair bobbing through the dancing masses before completely disappearing. As for Lexie, she had no current squeeze, but she had no doubt that she'd find one before the night was out. For now though she was happy to dance and, leading her two remaining friends onto the dance floor, let herself get swallowed up by the crowd.

Time: Present
Location: Santoro Incorporated

The elevator dinged to a stop, the doors slid open and Lexie Santoro stepped out. Dressed in a pair of killer heels, a designer leather jacket and fashionable knee-length dress, her outfit differed greatly from the tight and short dress of the previous night. She fought back a yawn and began to make her way down the hallway, her heels clacking against the floor with each step. She was tired from the all-night clubbing, but she was adapt at hiding the tell-tale signs of an all-nighter and the hangover that usually followed. Besides, all it usually took to get Lexie feeling healthy again after a night of binge drinking was an energy drink and a decent breakfast.

Lexie came to a stop outside the meeting room. After giving her outfit a last tug into place and checking that her hair was in order, Lexie turned the doorknob and entered. Dickie Glenmore appeared to be the only one to have arrived yet, not including Lexie's parents. In fact it seemed that Dickie had only just arrived as Lexie caught the end of his question, "...Am I the first one here?"
"Sure looks that way." Lexie replied, stepping through the door and following him into the room. "Buon pomeriggio Mamma," Lexie said, continuing passed Dickie and moving forward to meet her mother. She leaned forward and kissed her mother on each cheek, smiling as her mother returned the greeting. Then Lexie turned to her father, "Come sta, Papà?" She asked in Italian, leaning down to kiss him on each cheek as well.

Turning back to Dickie, Lexie gave him a friendly nod. He might not technically have been related to her, but he was considered family all the same. While she didn't feel quite the same need to greet him as formally as she had done her parents, she still greeted him with a friendly smile. "What time is everyone meant to arrive?" She asked her parents and Dickie, as she took a seat beside her mother. She would have expected Gio to be here before anyone else, but she guessed that he wouldn't be too long from arriving.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Santoro Character Portrait: Louis "Fast Louie" Coppola Sr. Character Portrait: Nico Kato Character Portrait: Richard (Dickie) Glenmore
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#, as written by Phillip
With the jingling of too many keys upon a single ring, Louis locked the door of an office that bore his name behind him. Turning with his classic purposefully-driven pace, he set off with a single manila envelope in his hand with no more than a couple of loose pages within. The halls of this building were even more familiar to him than the Brownstone he had occupied for the better part of three decades. In a way, the physical walls of Santoro Incorporated were a lot like Lou himself: seemingly unchanging in their service through the years.

As he passed by a maze of open doors of and cubical lanes, Lou nodded a passive tilt of his head to more than a few familiar faces. The day was a special occasion, and it served as one of the rarities for him to dress the part. While his path was halted to wait for the elevator in the main lobby, Lou smoothed his hand over the lines of his tailored suit, which he was only ever minimally comfortable in. At long last the chime of the carts arrival welcomed him, and he stepped inward.

Nico Kato pulled up in front of the Santoro building. The Don had called a meeting and Nico, as a member of the gang, had been requested to attend. He could only hazard an educated guess at what the meeting was about as he wasn't a personal advisor to the Don or his only son. His prime suspicion was that Carlos Santoro was announcing his son's take over of the mob, after all Giovanni had been in training for the role for sometime now. Of course, Nico could be wrong. Perhaps Don Carlos was simply gathering together his men in order to inform them of an upcoming scheme.

Nico straightened his tie and stepped out of the car, making sure it locked after he slammed the door. This may have been Santoro ground, but it never paid to be careless with your possessions. Spinning the keys around on his finger and whistling a quiet tune to himself, Nico wondered into the Santoro Incorporated building. He nodded at the receptionist and continued down the hall, turning the corner to the elevators just in time to see a leg disappearing through the elevator doors. "Hold the lift." Nico said, increasing his pace slightly. He didn't run, that just wasn't who he was, instead he simply lengthened his stride, enabling him to catch the doors just before they shut. He pulled the doors open again and stepped into the box. "Afternoon Louis, going up?" Nico greeted the older man with a nod and the hint of a friendly smile. Nico wasn't big on shows of emotion, at least not in this situation. Still, Louis was a friend and something of a mentor, not to mention a legend in mob circles.

"Hey...kid. It's good ta see ya." Louie replied; his tone welcoming, though ever-void of excitement. "I had a hunch you'd be here today."
"You have any idea what exactly the meeting is about?" Nico asked, leaning back into the corner of the elevator as it began to rise. "I could hazard a guess, but... " Nico left the sentence hanging with a casual shrug. If anyone knew the specific details of the meeting, besides the Don and his immediate family, it would be fast Louie.

Lou turned to face the much younger man with the full front of his body. His hands remained clasped in front of him and held the envelope under his arm. He stared at him with lazily cold eyes a half second longer than comfortable before stating: "...I'd like to say that I support whatever purposes Don Santoro has for you. You have done good work." He then turned back to watch the clicking of floors rise on the elevators electronic screen as they sped upward.

With those enigmatic words Nico nodded and joined Lou in waiting for the lift to reach their floor, letting the comfortable silence settle over the two. The elevator jolted to a stop and the doors slid open. Nico indicated for Louis to go first with a wave of his hand. When he had stepped through Nico followed him, walking a pace or two behind the older man. The door to the meeting room was already open and as Nico entered he could see that he and Louis weren't the first to arrive. Seated beside her parents was Alexandra Santoro, the Don's youngest child. "Uncle Louis!" She said as the man entered, giving him a friendly smile. The 'uncle' endearment was a throw back to her younger days.

"Hey princess...there you are. How you doin' huh?" Lou responded with the largest of smiles you would likely find him wearing. His entry to the room was unhindered by the exchange however, as he continued straight for the Don. With a formal bow he greeted the man: "padrino..." And continued on to settle properly into greetings.

Lexie's eyes slid past Fast Louie and landed on Nico. She flashed Nico an impish smile, which Nico only returned with a polite nod, he hardly needed Don Carlos getting any ideas regarding his little girl and one of his gang members. Lexie was a charming and attractive girl, but apart from a few... transgressions, he preferred to keep her at arms length.

"Mr Santoro, Mrs Santoro." Nico greeted each with a respectful nod, "Afternoon Dickie." He continued, acknowledging the other man in the room. Greetings done Nico took a seat towards the end of the table.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Santoro Character Portrait: Roxanne Fox Character Portrait: Eleonora Santoro Character Portrait: Louis "Fast Louie" Coppola Sr. Character Portrait: Nico Kato Character Portrait: Jaqueline
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“Relax, darling,” Adriana murmured for what seemed like the utmost time, a small smile adorning her lips as she flipped through her binder once more. Carlos sighed to himself, running his fingers over the slight stubble across his jaw before sitting up a little straighter.

Just as he was about to glance at the door yet again, he heard a voice that calmed him somewhat. Dickie Glenmore. Well, at least they weren't the only ones waiting then. Granted, the boy was always early, a habit he had obviously picked up from Vince.

Adriana looked up, smiling politely at their adoptive nephew. “Hello, Richard. How are you doing, darling?” The man looked a little tired, perhaps like he had just awoken, but no one commented on that. In fact, there wasn't time to comment on much of anything, because Alexandra was following her cousin in the room.

Their youngest greeted them both one at a time, crossing the room to kiss them on each cheek. Adriana first, who replied with a simple, “Ciao, amore mio.” Her Italian, even though it wasn't her native language, was just as smooth as the rest of her family.

Carlos let out a sigh as he met his daughter with, “Bene, Principessa.” He smiled at her, knowing he didn't need to get into how he actually was. Which was worried, nervous, questioning his decisions...none of that needed to show. Not even in front of family.

Adriana was already backk to her books by the time Lexie took a seat next to her, only glancing up when the girl asked when the others should be arriving. “Anytime within the next ten minutes,” she answred, then added with a knowing grin: “We told Vanni to be here thirty minutes early. You know how he likes to oversleep.”

Carlos chuckled softly to himself, thankful when others entered the room shortly after. Louis, with Nico Kato at his heels. He smiled at the sight of his old friend, murming a 'Louie' as he gave a slight bow in return to his own greeting. He had to admit...the more people that showed, the more at ease he was feeling.

“Good morning, Nico,” Adriana greeted, verbalizing while Carlos only nodded his head. She was definately the more outspoken than the two, even if her attention was elsewhere. This time, on her phone. She glanced at him for only a moment, dark brown eyes filled with knowing.

After all these years together, Carlos and Adriana could speak without saying a word, and he knew exactly what that look meant. Eleonora. They had known their eldest daughter was returning for awhile now, but part of them had each hoped she hadn't been serious...that she'd change her mind. Unfortunately, she didn't, and Carlos would be damned if he let her roam his city unwatched. But Leo was smart...crafty...and he knew by the look in his wives eyes that he had already lost the first battle.

She twisted the screen of her phone towards him slowly, showing the security footage around the building. Their daughters entrance was impossible to miss with her entourage, but they would recognize her anywhere anyway. No one in Boson looked quite like her.

Now Carlos knew where his nerves had been coming from all along. Not because he was worried about Giovanni...but because he was worried about her. About what she would say, or And as if that thought was some kind of cosmic cue, Eleonora Santoro entered the room ever bit the princess that she was. Which was almost ironic, considering that had always been her younger sister's namesake.

Adriana, every bit woman and understanding this show on some sort of catty level, sat straight in her seat and watched with interest. It was grossly overdone – trumpets, flowers, and an announcer...Yet, oddly, Carlos had to admit he felt somewhat smug that her darling brother wasn't around. While Leo was perfectly on time, Gio had yet to show.

Adriana gave a slow clap as the men around their daughter fanned out to clean up the mess they had created in record time, the woman settling back in her seat as she focused a smile on the willowy blonde. Roxanne slipped in the room, blessedly silent of any spectacle, as did Jaquline right behind her.. “Eleonora, darling, so nice for you to have joined us.”

A snort from the doorway caught the rooms attention, subtle after her spectacle but random nonetheless. Perhaps he had spoken too soon about his son, because there was Giovanni leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, a small smirk on his face.

It was only his mother—perhaps even his wife—who could see through the tense exterior. It was his eyes that really gave him away...questioning, uncertain, maybe even a little scared, as they searched over his sisters body. “Why would anyone faint over you? Because you're so ugly?”

Adriana sighed, placing her fingers against her temples, shaking her head at the smile that replaced Gio's smirk. It was a childhood jab, one the twins had shot at each other since they could talk, and completely untrue. If anyone complimented Leo on her beauty more than humanly possible, it was Gio. Apparently habits died hard...even if they had been apart for a little over three years.

“We just need a few more,” Carlos mumbled under his breath, glancing past Gio's frame towards the door. “And we can begin.”


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Santoro Character Portrait: Roxanne Fox Character Portrait: Eleonora Santoro Character Portrait: Louis "Fast Louie" Coppola Sr. Character Portrait: Nico Kato Character Portrait: Jaqueline
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Walking in a big city, while relatively cost effective and quite exciting for tourists, can be absolutely irritating for those who didn't quite appreciate the hustle and bustle of city life. Martin was one of those people. For all of the resentment and bitterness he held towards his former life, he did occasionally pine for his old surroundings, clutching onto the memories of tall mountains and plentiful greenery like a child's security blanket. These bursts of nostalgia were few and far between these days, too busy with work and too caged by tall buildings and water that you couldn't even pay him to go swimming in. However, walking down the streets of Boston, inhaling the fumes of cigarettes and the traffic-filled streets, stepping around litter and people too busy tapping away at their smartphones to notice that they were about to run into another human, the pang of homesickness hit. Well, that and annoyance.

It took a lot to irritate Martin because, even on his worst day, he had more self control than the average man. Still, walking through Boston did put a damper on his day with the sheer noise and chaos that was the streets. Car horns, even this early, blared with an unpredictable staccato rhythm, car engines revved and roared, and the voices of the people pressed around him was a constant noise in the back of his mind. It was, therefore, excellent news that the streets leading up to Santoro Incorporated were far less crowded, like the building had enough power to glare down and intimidate anyone attempting to break the perfectly ordered chaos that it kept in check. Well, almost anyone.

"I'm just saying, Marty," Jude said amiably as they continued their walk, "If you're going to get a car, you might as well get something flashy, yeah?" It was easier to hear Jude now that the noise pollution had toned down, not that Jude was ever loud. No, he spoke in a certain way that demanded attention, like a primal awareness that listening to him just might save your life one day. "Not one of those Mercedes that you Americans like so well, or one of those hyper-cars; you need an Aston Martin."

It wasn't often that Jude spoke cars, but, on their walk to Santoro Incorporated, the flash of a red Koenigsegg Agera R rushing by had caught his attention like a kid in a candy store, changing the strain of conversation almost immediately from where they were going to get dinner that night to what cars tickled Jude's fancy. Martin bit back a sigh; they'd certainly had this conversation before and, just like before, he was prepared with his own line of dialogue in this casual repartee.

"You just want one because you want to feel like James Bond," Martin accused tiredly, bespectacled eyes glancing down at Jude who merely nodded, a smirk crawling its way onto his face.

"You know me so well, Marty. Of course I do. Although…" He paused, which, of course, meant nothing good was about to come out of his mouth, "I think that would make you my Bond girl, wouldn't it? Now, what sort of name would you have…"

Martin almost spluttered in indignation because he would at least be Q or Eve Moneypenny as they approached Santoro Incorporated when a voice cut into his exasperation and Jude's thoughts, catching both of their attentions for very different reasons.

“Hey baby. I have a good ten minutes if you wanna play...only fifty for a quickie.” The speaker was a boy in scruffy clothes, blonde hair messy in a way that even Martin could guess at the origin, a lollipop dangling in one hand as he licked his lips.

Both men froze. Martin's face twisted into one of pure horror. It wasn't the prostitution that bothered him, or even the boy's probable age; oh no. He was worried that he'd have to see this kid die in front of him, and all before a big meeting too. Jude's face, on the other hand, remained achingly pleasant, which, Martin knew as he tried to grab the smaller man, was the worst possible way for his face to look. However, he was too late.

As quick as a striking cobra and potentially twice as deadly, Jude's fist was flying through the air, connecting with the poor boy's smirking mouth with excessive force. The bare-knuckle hit didn't rattle him at all, hands too used to the bare-knuckled brawls he so enjoyed, and his second movement was a grab for the lollipop, which he plucked gracefully from the boy's hands.

"Let me show you where you can shove your lolly, you fucking poofter-" In contrast to Jude's amiable expression, his voice was pure malice hidden behind the tone of someone giving a helpful suggestion instead of a man willing and more than excited to shove a lollipop into someone's eye socket. It was then, of course, that Martin had enough time to move himself and quite knowingly save the boy's life.

"Jesus Christ, Jude!"

The translator grabbed the Irishman from behind, arms wrapped tight around him as he heaved him backwards. It wasn't much on the physical side of things- Martin had never been one for physical confrontation, but it was all it took for Jude to give in, allowing himself to be manhandled so that the candy in his possession was no longer a potential lethal weapon.

"We're done- no, no more. We have a meeting to go to and you can't just kill someone or maim them." Even in times of pure chaos, Martin's tongue hardly failed him. "It's not worth it, Jude. It's really not."

"Fine." It was like a switch had been flipped, the Irishman nodding before turning back to his very near victim. Instead of saying anything, instead of going for one more strike, he dropped the lollipop to the ground before grinding it to dust with his heel.

"Oh, not the sucker too," Martin mumbled as Jude turned away and headed up the steps to the building, stopping only at the door, holding it open expectantly. Martin bit back his second sigh of the day and briefly turned towards the prostitute.

"Right. Well." There wasn't much else to say, but he did fish around in his pocket for a white handkerchief, passing it over to the boy. "Here. You need it more than I do." And, with that, he jogged up the stairs after his psychopath, trying not to glance back.

As soon as the door closed behind them and they followed the familiar path to the elevator, Jude finally spoke.

"I'm thinking Gavin Goodhead. That would certainly be your Bond Girl name," He concluded sounding too entirely pleased with himself.

"Wouldn't that make me a Bond Boy technically?" Martin replied because two could play at the "let's never mention what just happened" game. Jude began to laugh in reply, a great howling sound, when he suddenly stopped, an look of confusion so out of place on his face appearing. Call it a sixth sense, call it a gift for finding the not quite right, but something seemed off in the building. It wasn't until both of them came upon the six beefy men apparently posing outside of the meeting room that it all began to make sense. Well, kind of- there were still six weird men, one with an honest-to-God trumpet and another with a basket full of flower petals, with the rest having assorted other items, like, for some odd reason, a boom box blaring AC/DC. In almost perfect unison, the two peered into the room and caught sight of a young beauty who looked like she'd stepped right out of a magazine, standing before the assorted collection of the Santoro Family Mob like a goddess returning to her people(well, she did. The others didn't seem nearly as impressed and/or pleased). Recognition was instantaneous.

"I think it's safe to say the meeting's cancelled. Come on, let's go," Martin said, spinning on his heel and nearly avoiding beefcake number four with his wind machine. It was far too early for this, although, to be fair, it would never be the right time for this in Martin's opinion. It had been years since he'd seen the eldest Santoro girl, but not nearly long enough for him to expect a pleasant meeting with her arrival.

Jude, on the other hand, was beaming and grabbed Martin by the wrist. Their thoughts went along the same strain, but rather than being tense about whatever insanity was to follow, Jude was more than pleased to see Eleonora returned. She, he was convinced, was going to make things even more interesting than the motley crew collected in the meeting room already would have.

"Now, now, Marty, this is a very important meeting. Can't just leave, now can we?" Martin wanted to reply that, yes, of course they could, but Jude was a force of nature making resistance futile as he dragged Martin into the room behind him.

"What a pity. I would have loved to see that entrance," Jude commented, skirting around the Santoro twins with a smile and a wink for the prodigal daughter returned before finding his way to the same seat he'd always sat in since the beginning of his employment with the Santoro Family. Martin managed a little half-smile, well aware that eyes would probably brush right over him and onto the more obvious and more than likely clinically insane people and things in the room as he slid into a seat next to Jude.

"Our apologies, Don Carlos. We didn't mean to keep you waiting," Martin offered up quietly, threading a hand through his tangled hair as he tried to tame his mess of curls. It was, as always, completely ineffectual.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Santoro Character Portrait: Roxanne Fox Character Portrait: Alaura Dawn Santoro Character Portrait: Eleonora Santoro Character Portrait: Louis "Fast Louie" Coppola Sr. Character Portrait: Jaqueline
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Dickie shook his uncle's hand, hugged his aunt, and took a seat near the middle of the table just as his youngest cousin came in. He gave a small nod to her and leaned back lazily. He was usually the first to arrive to these meetings, which meant he got his choice of seat. A simple pleasure, but still a nice perk. He rolled his head to the side, facing the don. Something was off. He never knew Don Carlos to be a worrier, but this afternoon the man looked distracted. It was understandable. He was passing off his position, his legacy. It was acceptable for him to be a little tweaked.

An opening door pulled Dick's attention away from the boss. In walked Fast Louie and Nico Kato, two of the most prominent gangsters prowling the streets these days. Dickie nodded to his 'Uncle' Louie as the gangster headed to greet the don. This was one intimidating guy. Dickie made it a point to personally hand the man a free drink every time he entered Black Violets. He in no way wanted to get on Lou's bad side.

Dickie and Nico had a fine relationship with Nico, who greeted him shortly after his entrance. Dickie responded in kind as Kato took his seat. Dickie liked Nico. He always knew that when Nico Kato entered the club no one was going to cause any problems. This was enough to win his heart.

Again the door opened, this time with much more extravagance. Enter Eleonora Santoro. "Please, please, sit. We wouldn't want anybody fainting from the overwhelming sight of my glory," Dickie's eyes rolled so far back that they probably went around twice. He was not his cousin's biggest fan. She was always obnoxious, entitled, bossy, and just pretty much the worst kind of person in every way. At least Gio changed that about himself. Nothing good ever followed when Leo showed up on the scene.

While Leo made a spectacle of herself another two figures slid in quietly. Roxanne, probably the closest thing Dickie had to a friend in this place, showed and quickly took a seat across from him. Just short after, the dark and quiet Jackie arrived and silently waited for the festivities to end. Dickie raised a quizzical eyebrow at her and gave a slight smile. Jackie usually kept to herself, but she was good company.

Finally the man of the hour. Gio sauntered in with his wife Alaura in tow. A few quick remarks between him and his twin sister set the tone for how Leo's return would go. Dickie was not excited.

Two more came through the door just then, Martin and Jude, their bromance seemingly still going strong. With an apology the two took their seats. No streamers, no sparklers. Just an apology and a seat, like professionals. This was why he liked these two. Theatrics are unnecessary and annoying. But maybe he was just projecting his dislike of his cousin.

But that all aside. Gio was here, so the meeting could finally begin. Dickie linked his hands and placed them in front of him, patiently waiting for the news.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Santoro Character Portrait: Roxanne Fox Character Portrait: Alaura Dawn Santoro Character Portrait: Eleonora Santoro Character Portrait: Louis "Fast Louie" Coppola Sr. Character Portrait: Nico Kato
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Max had been hit in his life more times than he could count. He had the scars, bruises, and the occasional hospital records to prove it...He grew up on the streets, lived with a bunch of mobsters, and had a mouth on him that would cost him his teeth one day. Thing was, he always at least saw the first punch coming.

Not this one.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. One moment he was fine, the next there was a flash, and then pain was irrupting from the same damn area that always got him in trouble: his mouth. It fucking hurt. Knuckles slammed into lips, skin ripped from being forced between bone, his teeth rattled so damn hard he thought he might actually lose one or all of them.

Normally, Max even knew how to get hit – roll with the punches and it doesn't hurt as bad. This time the only reason he moved was because the hit literally took him off his goddamned feet. He smacked into concrete steps on his ass, new pain sliding up his spine, before he spit blood off to his left and glared up at the asscake that just messed up his face.

The other guy, Sexy McScruffy, was holding off said Asscake. He could hear words, though they bounced around in his head and didn't really make any sense whatsoever, but it was obvious Asscake was being talked down. Max felt his fists curling at his sides, blunt fingernails digging into his palms.

He didn't get up, though. Just stayed on the ground, eyes narrowed, willing his ears to stop ringing. It was really only then that he actually realized he no longer had his lollipop...Asscake stole it. And Dropped it. On the ground. Then stomped on it mother fucker.

“Fucking cockwad,” he grumbled under his breath, feeling skin break beneath his nails. He didn't get angry a lot...but what was he going to do? Jump up and get the ever loving shit beat out of him? Because Asscake was twice his size...and probably more than a little mentally unstable. He cursed again as the men moved passed him, going for the door, and it was only just before he rubbed his bloody palms down his pants that he realized Sexy McScruffy had turned back to him.

"Right. Well." the man was digging around for something, and Max arched an eyebrow as he finally raised one of his hands to cup under his jaw. He probably looked like shit, he could feel blood traveling down his chin and just didn't want it all over his shirt...a handkerchief. He was being handed a handkerchief. Both of Max's eyebrows were up now, but after a minute he slowly reached out with his free hand to take the offered cloth. He barely had it in his grip before both men were disappearing into the building.

He stayed there for a minute, blood filling up his mouth while he pretty much regretted every life decision he ever made, then he leaned to the left again to spit out another glob of red before finally climbing to his feet.

He still had a couple of minutes before he had to be anywhere, so he took the elevator up to the third floor, keeping his mouth covered and his head down as he slid into the cafeteria, lifting a bottle of water and a salt shaker then sliding down the hall and into the mens restroom.

The handkerchief was already stained red by the time he got to soak it under warm water, but he could still use it to wipe up the mess then swish a bit of saltwater to make the bleeding stop. It took a good five minutes or so, but then he could see the damage. It could have been a lot worse...His lips would probably swell, probably bruise, but he had all his teeth so that was good enough for him. His bottom lip was split wide open, and he kept having to fight the urge to suck it into his mouth or it'd start bleeding again.

With a sigh he shook his head, rung the water out of the ruined handkerchief before running it under a hand drier, and stuffed it in his back pocket as he jogged towards one of the elevators.

Giovanni lingered in the doorway for a moment after his sister addressed him. Nothing in his expression gave him away, it was only his hesitation that hinted what he was thinking about. The words used...the tone...the general way she regarded him made his heart tighten in his chest. He was glad, now, that he hadn’t hugged her like he so desperately wanted.

He didn't move until Jude and Martin were sliding in the room next to him, maneuvering their way around both twins. He stood up straight then, reaching behind him to take Aluara's hand again and pull her into the room, picking a spot to sit just in front of his parents. Though he stayed standing, hands resting on the back of his wives chair.

"Our apologies, Don Carlos. We didn't mean to keep you waiting.” The don sighed at Martin's words, shaking his head lightly and dismissing the comment with a wave of his hand. He knew that this meeting was going to be a there was just proof.

The generation was half filled with rambunctious young adults leveled out only with the few who knew what they were doing. Thankfully, with the entrance of Martin, Jude, and finally Leslie Rhodes after them made things a bit easier. He too apologized for being late, but Carlos was too exasperated to really care much.

It was then that the older man realized a new sense of heaviness weighing on the room. Elenora, seemingly for the first time, recognized Aluara Santoro was in the room. Gio was watching his sister, closely, hands lifting from the chair he was leaning on as if he might have to make some protective movement over his son or over her. Aryan, even, seemed closer to the small group than before.

Everything snapped back into place the moment Leo spoke, and Gio seemed to relax only a little, his hands falling gently onto his wives shoulders while he smiled softly down at Alphie in her arms. “He is,” he murmured. “More than you can imagine.”

Crisis adverted, Carlos deflated slightly, only really long enough to catch the look Lou shot him. He hesitated for a moment, going over his options, but this morning was too important...his eldest daughter too unpredictable, and he ended up shaking his head once.

Maxwell Parks slid into the room finally, his head ducked and one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to inconspicuously make it to one of the chairs by the door. He didn't, of course, because he was a klutz and tripped at least twice before managing to sit down.

"How many cocks you think you have to suck before taking a job as a flower girl?” His bright blue eyes glanced up at Louie's comment, soon followed by an arched eyebrow as he glanced back at on of Eleonora's men who had just finished gathering petals off the ground. He let out a snort, covering his mouth when he did, and muttered a: “More than me. Fuck, that's a lot...”

Eleonora turned away from Alaura then, a very serious expression on her face as she pointed her gaze towards Fast Louie. “Fourty-two,” she answered, as if she was stating a fact as simple and unarguable as the color of the sky.

Max laughed, hard, grabbing his sides and shaking his head. “I stand corrected.”

Gio made a face, leaving the others to converse amongst themselves before he crossed the room. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and knew that something was wrong the moment Max just shrugged. The kid was much too verbal to just shrug. “Max~” he tried to lean down to the blonde's level, but when Max moved backwards, Gio shot out his hand to grab the kid by the chin.

Max squeaked, looking up finally, and Gio felt a rush of anger. “Who hit you?” he demanded, eyes glazing over the freshly split lip, light bruising appearing around the kid's mouth. Max jerked his head back, opening his mouth to pop off something he was certain Aluara needed to cover their sons ears for, but then he...froze.

Gio arched an expectant eyebrow, following Max's gaze to the opposite end of the room...landing on Jude King. Of all people. “Ohmygod, Maxwell!” He dropped his head, running a hand down his face as he groaned. “You were not soliciting sex in front of the building again...!”


A snap of something hard and plastic demanded the room's attention then, and silence feel as Giovanni looked up at his mother who had purposely dropped her binder against the desk. “I think that's enough,” she said clearly, running her fingers through her dark hair. “If everyone would, please, sit down and gather around, there are some important announcements that need to be made.”


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Santoro Character Portrait: Roxanne Fox Character Portrait: Alaura Dawn Santoro Character Portrait: Camille Rickards Character Portrait: Eleonora Santoro Character Portrait: Louis "Fast Louie" Coppola Sr.
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Jaqueline pulled off her glasses and removed her dark red leather jacket as she sighed slightly. Well this probably didn't go as planned. You could cut the tension with the knife. With that thought she walked slowly from her leaning place against the door, to a seat near to the matriarch on the other side of Martin and Jude next to an empty seat. Hopefully Cami will be here soon to fill it. There was a silence now, especially after Adrianna's outburst.
Jaqueline slid into the leather office chair and placed her hands on the table and looked towards everyone, finally getting a chance to meet everyone face to face. And eyes to eyes. The family was first to grab her attention of course. The Don and his wife were the power couple to rival all power couples, but despite the violence and crime, their love was pure and unconditional and Jackie couldn't help but envy them. The same was for Giovanni and his wife, but Jackie was no fool. It took one not to see how unsure he was, not only up to this moment, but especially now that his sister had returned. But, like his parents, not even the apocalypse could tear them apart, a sister should hardly cause much of a stir. And yet...Jackie knew how powerful she was, and how far she was willing to go to get what she wanted. IT was an admirable trait on a general level, but Jackie would probably never take any chances to get to know her. With her reputation, it wasn't worth it, not yet anyway. The youngest Santoro, Alexandra, was never in any time of buisness with the crime syndicate so they had never met. But, Jackie could say she got all of her good looks from her mother of course.
Martin and Jude were connected at the hip, as always, but something told her they were more like brothers than friends, or even anything in the opposite direction. Jude was a killer, he knew how to do it and how to handle it. They definitely had more in common than he knew but he always seemed to almost take pleasure in it, whereas Jackie only numbs herself and forgets. No matter how you are raised, or taught, or who your parents are, it's hard for a woman to take a life. Martin was the opposite he was gentle, sympathetic. He was all of the things she had so desperately tried to reclaim after her retirement, but hasn't been easy. Both, of course, are attractive males with alot to offer a mate, something Jackie always appreciated. The lawyer, Leslie sat not too far from them and was someone almost everyone in the family was in aquaintence with, despite his handicap, he is a very powerful man in the courtroom and Jackie always respected that quality in him.
Jackie turned now to the girl she saw at the door and Dickie. She was a lady of the night and he ran the place, so it made sense that they would meet frequently. He always made Jackie laugh those rare times when she consumed alcohol and he always knew what to say, even if he had no idea what was really bothering her. Jackie's favorite part about him was that he never demanded her attention and that went a long way when they first met. The escort sat rather demurely and quietly, which both surprised her and pleased her. She was not in the business of "work is work" and everything else is separate, an admirable quality she would have to inquire about...after she learned her name. Lou sat two seats down and Jackie smiled ever so slightly at him. He was her favorite street man. He was witty and smart, two very different things, so when they all come in one mature and sarcastic package she couldn't help but be drawn. She though of him as the father she wished she had, but she wouldn't dare say it. Kato sat to his right and there honestly wasn't much she knew about him or his background, something she wished was untrue but wouldn't push. She knew what it was like to get a fresh start and most who attempt to ruin that meet a very untimely end.
She looked around now and finally spotted Giovanni and Alaura's bodyguard, Aryan. He was exotic, to say the least and always appeared to be at his strongest, which was a desirable trait in a bodyguard she supposed. Most of her dealings were with street men, so most of the guards of the family and the higher-ups who did little work outside of the corporation stayed unknown to her.
I should probably want to change that if I'm not interested in being kicked to the curb.
Behind Arayan, finally, was Max and he was a tad worse for wear. A bloody nose and a severely split lip marred his boyish face. With Jude as the culprit. She wanted t roll her eyes when she heard the reason, but she somehow managed to restrain herself for the time being. It was time for business.
So Jackie looked at everyone again. It had been so long since she had addressed that many strangers at one time so she tried her hardest to enunciate through her French.
" She is right. The sooner this meeting is over the sooner we can discuss other matters."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roxanne Fox Character Portrait: Alaura Dawn Santoro Character Portrait: Eleonora Santoro Character Portrait: Richard (Dickie) Glenmore Character Portrait: Martin Ross Character Portrait: Jude King
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She soon learned who the woman was, but found herself only slightly in awe. She wasn't necessarily close with the family, although they all knew her moderately. She knew their names, their voices, their roles, and their presence as familiar ideas, but none of them she was very close and personal with. Then again, she wasn't very close with anyone. Funny how when you occasionally sleep with people for a living - a task usually for those wanting to be closer - you find yourself even more disconnected. She hardly minded, she could count her number of friends on both of her hands, mostly other working girls at the club and a few other members of the mob. Because Roxanne was their most acclaimed escort, she was invited to this meeting. Not to say that her fate could alter the lives of everyone in the mob, but generally she was useful when the time came.
She glanced at Dickie, who seemed generally annoyed at the pale women with the extravagant entrance. She couldn't help but agree, only because the Don seemed unpleased that the actual meeting had yet to start. From everyone else's reaction she gathered that this so called "Leo" was unexpected.
Dickie was occasionally the bartender at the club she danced at, and you could say he was maybe the closest things she had to a friend. Really he was the owner, and had more importance in the mob, but she mostly only saw him mixing drinks. They often joked together, and he knew her regular drinks she had almost every night. In general, it wasn't hard to befriend Dickie. He always seemed interested in whatever you had to say, which was maybe the nicest thing about him. They were similar in the idea that they adjusted to whatever situation they were in. He could talk about anything and everything with a stranger, and she could fill the role they wanted her to.
Although she wasn't listening to Leo and Gio's conversation, she could feel the tension when she glanced back to them. In truth she found herself not paying attention enough to what was going on often. Unless her attention was required or asked for, she sometimes lost focus. Either way the gorgeously tall girl had everyone's eyes glued to her. That was the point, Roxy supposed. Once the reuniting started, with the woman talking to Gio's wife and son, she looked away. Glanced around until her eyes found Martin, probably the most mysterious man alive to her.
They had had a few odd encounters, and it seemed every time she'd seen him after they glanced at each other, occasionally giving eye contact for just a little too long. He confused her to say the least, as well as his situation with Jude. But she liked his presence, and his messy hair. He was smart, thoughtful, and sometimes seemed out of place here. But calm and collected, usually polite, she always wondered about him.
It was Louie's comment that then grabbed her attention, a slight smile creeping onto her lips. She almost laughed when she heard Max's response, as well as seeing him burst into laughter, but then Gio turned matters more serious, interrogating Max. It was almost awkward to watch, but suddenly a smack of a binder silenced the room, drawing all eyes to the Don and his wife. She turned her full attention to them - realizing their was obviously a more important reason than Leo's homecoming for the meeting. She remained poised, her expression not interested or bored. She was neutral mostly, though she was unaware she really played both sides..


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Santoro Character Portrait: Roxanne Fox Character Portrait: Alaura Dawn Santoro Character Portrait: Eleonora Santoro Character Portrait: Louis "Fast Louie" Coppola Sr. Character Portrait: Nico Kato
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Within the interior of the meeting room was a thick, cloying tension, an additional heaviness in the air that weighed down on anyone observant enough to notice the situation. This was not singularly abnormal, however, when it came to meetings with the Santoro mob. Granted the addition of the eldest daughter giving out false platitudes towards her brother's family- Martin would rather not ruminate on what exactly was going on there, thanks very much- was an oddity, but this was around what Martin had expected. If you place enough big egos into one room, they're sure to clash, battling for dominance, and everything was just a hair's breadth away from total chaos, only the few societal norms that the mob actually clung to keeping it from devolving into hysteria. It was, Martin decided as he sank further into his chair, way too early for this.

While Jude watched on as the last members of their motley gathering filtered into the room, Martin pushed up his glasses, rubbing tired eyes with one hand. It had only been a few hours ago that he'd been in this very building, sequestered in his office like the good little worker he was, working until the time shifted from late to early on an account from a new business partner in Saudi Arabia. He was running on little sleep and even the caffeine boost from the tea Jude had broken into his apartment to fix for him(which was still vaguely kind in a psychotic sort of way) had begun to fade from his system. Maybe, when he had these early morning meetings, he should at least try coffee again…? Or maybe a coffee drink filled with so much sugar and chocolate that the coffee was just hinted at?

Jude, on the other hand, was as awake as anyone could claim to be this early in the morning, sharp eyes surveying the room. There was this delightful tension in the room, thick enough to cut with a knife- something that he'd be tempted to attempt for boredom's sake but refrained from doing so because half of the people in the room would not react well to seeing an open knife, no matter who's holding the blade. However, quite unfortunately, everything had come to a standstill, only the deliciously fake trivialities passed between the blood members of the Santoro family(Eleonora, he was quite sure, was far too like himself for him to fall for her innocent sister act) and the caustic wit of one Fast Louie doing anything to break the tedium. That is, until the distinct sound of stumbling caught his attention. It couldn't be- his grin grew to levels that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. Oh, oh this was fantastic, wasn't it?

Martin was woken from his sleep-deprived stupor by a finger being pressed incessantly into his side. There was only one person he knew that invaded his personal space with such ease and eagerness. He slid his glasses back into place and noticed two things. One, Giovanni Santoro was fretting over someone in the middle of the meeting room with, which, considering it wasn't anyone Martin instantly recognized, was a bit odd. And, two, Jude was beaming at him, eyes glittering with barely contained mirth, which either meant that he'd thought of something hilarious or was about to do something socially unacceptable, or, more likely than not, a combination between the two.

"What…?" Then it clicked. Oh. Oh, Lord. The boy currently being fawned over by the Don's son was the boy from earlier, lip split open but the blood already starting to congeal. And here was Jude, beaming and still poking him incessantly, like a child showing off a homework assignment to his parent that he'd gotten a smiley face on. 'See, Marty?' Jude's expression eagerly conveyed, 'Didn't I do good? That is a bloody fantastic split lip.' Martin groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. What were the odds? Fantastic. Fan-freaking-tastic. It was far too early for this.

"Who hit you?" The question rang in the duo's ears as Martin sank lower in his chair and Jude straightened up, hands clasped in front of him, smile shrinking from a beaming grin to a content smile, an artist waiting humbly for appropriate acknowledgement for his work. He wasn't disappointed as anger flashed to realization to shock to rage on the Santoro boy's face, rounding on the poof with all of disbelief he could muster. Martin, who would have preferred never to meet their little friend ever again, just sighed for the third time that day.

The sound of plastic clattering across the meeting table drew both of their attentions and an immediate shift overtook the two men. Martin rose in his chair, back straightening out until he was once more seated like a normal human being, not like a teenager who was particularly embarrassed by whoever they were with. His tired eyes gained focus, leveling on the Don and Donna of the Santoro family with all of the attention a meeting like this required. Jude, on the other hand, swiveled in his seat to face Don Carlos and his wife, elbows pressed against the table as he leaned towards them, all of his attention now solely on them.

The announcement wasn't a complete surprise- the rumor had made its way around the office gossip mill several times by now and it seemed, if not optimal, then inevitable that it would be Giovanni Santoro who would be named as the new Don when his father officially retired from the business. Still, to hear it spoken by the man himself was enough to bring its own shock with it. As the assignments were administered, Jude's smile completely faded away, lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes darted over to the boy who had the gaul to think he could become the Santoro's family next Don after the shit he tried to pull only a few years back. He was weak and had yet to earn respect from the consummate professionals in the room, which made him seem terribly inadequate.

Eleonora fled first, her excuse about parking meters hollow and as obvious a lie as any, and Jude was sorely tempted to join her, to leave the room and jump ship before it could officially sink with this wrong choice when a hand caught his wrist in a tight grip. Martin wasn't looking at him, was instead staring ahead as he had before, posture upright and head bobbing in an understanding nod. Jude sat back as Martin relinquished his grip, his initial ire quelled as reality set in as dictated by Martin's simple gesture.

Martin, in comparison to everyone else in the room, was in a unique position. He hadn't grown up fighting the man from the bottom of society, had never known the need or environment that drove men and women to break laws with little care. He hadn't grown up in a wealthy family either, hadn't known what it was like to be in power over others. No, for the entirety of his life he had been somewhere in the middle, a subservient sort of role. It made him realize something that perhaps no one else in the room had; leaving wasn't an option. It was just a pretty phrase meant to calm and cajole, but he knew, he knew that none of them ever really had the option to say so long and waltz out those doors for good. Not here, not now.

"I take it that we're going to begin immediately," He said dryly as he made steady eye contact with her, voice calm despite the situation.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alaura Dawn Santoro Character Portrait: Eleonora Santoro Character Portrait: Jaqueline Character Portrait: Richard (Dickie) Glenmore Character Portrait: Jude King Character Portrait: Giovanni Santoro
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The tension in this room was like smog. Dickie sat back in his chair quietly. To stay quiet is to stay alive in a business like this. Even though Dickie was a member of the upper echelon, and no one would dare hurt him lest they desire the wrath of the Don, He preferred to keep quiet during times like these. To Dickie, self-protection was everything. The only sure fire way to get you and everyone you loved killed, was to paint a target on your back. And even though Miss Leo was bat-shit, she was still probably the most dangerous person in the room. Be that as it may, he voiced his opinions silently across the table to those he trusted.

The spectacle of one Eleonora was distracted for a quick beat with the entrance of Max, the man-whore... or should it be boy-whore? He smiled at his own wit and watched the exchange between Gio and Max with curiosity. Maxwell Parks was without a doubt the least familiar member of the crew to Dickie, and this was no mistake. Max and Dickie weren't exactly on good terms, as the kid tends to get a little too touchy in his club, and has a talent for creating problems were none need to be had. Dickie had... numerous times, thrown the boy from the front doors of Black Violets. He held no ill will towards the boy, but no one screws with his club.

He had to cover his mouth to hide his smile upon seeing Max's busted lip. Some quick eyesight detective work showed who the culprit was. No surprise. It was Jude, who looked far past pleased with his actions. Dickie raised an eyebrow and flashed a smile of approval at the man.

More Eleonora nonsense was spewed, and Dickie decided it wasn't worth his time to listen, but when Uncle Carlos spoke up he turned his ears back on. He dropped the news finally, officially. Gio was the main man now. Dick wasn't thrilled to answer to Gio. They'd grown up together, and they were always on equal footing. Now he was in charge... Hopefully it wouldn't go to his head. The crew was offered an out. Dickie shook his said quietly. As if he had anywhere else to go. There was no leaving for him.

Leo woman left the building just as abruptly as she'd arrived. Dickie, doubting she'd return, nodded a farewell to her flower-girls and waved them goodbye.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Richard (Dickie) Glenmore Character Portrait: Andrea "Andy" Spinnato
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Andy quietly slipped into the meeting room and looked around for D. What was she doing here? What the hell was her importance? She scanned the room again and gently smiled to herself once she saw Dickie. She quietly walked over to him and sat next to him.

He probably wouldn't even notice she was there. People didn't notice Andy and that's exactly how she liked it. People noticed D, not the little punk girl that barely reached his chest. D was loud. D was exciting. Andy sat in the corner with her drawings and music pretending she didn't exist. But she couldn't do that now. Not here.

The room was so damned tense. What had she missed? She should have been on time. She should have gotten up the second D texted her about the meeting. But of course she simply tossed her phone and fell back asleep. Work had been long the night before and the coffee wasn't nearly strong enough for her. Thanks to her pussy ass brother who liked medium coffee.

She felt so out of place not knowing what was going on. She knew she was going to get into tons of trouble. If anyone had even noticed that she was there at all. She fiddled with her cigarettes. She was craving one something fierce. But she hadn't been to many of the meetings and didn't know if it was a good idea to light up or not. She should really try to say something. Ask what was going on. Ask Dickie to catch her up. Was it even right to ask her boss something like that?

She rubbed the edge of her combat boots together. Something she did when she was scared or nervous. Why couldn't she have the out going personality that D had? Why couldn't she be loud and energetic and willing to kiss the barrel at her face like D was. Maybe that was the thing about twins. One was made for the spotlight. The other was just there because the sperm split.

She looked up at Dickie, closed her eyes, took a deep breath and "Eh". Seriously? A fucking squeak? That's all she could get out. Andy went bright red and quickly looked away from Dickie before he realized it was her that even tried talking to him. are never gonna make it out of this alive. You cannot even talk to the man who gave you a job. You're worthless.