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Post by Enzo Antonucchi on Aug 1, 2015 18:38:59 GMT -5
It was a dark rainy day in November, and how fitting was that. He had just put his lovely little sister in the ground, her death being the reason he has all this blood on his hands. Not that he cared really, he was born into a blood bath it comes with being next in line to run the family. But this time it wasn't just the blood of the O'Brien dogs, it was that of his own family. And while Pietro he didn't feel as guilty about because the man should have been able to defend himself against a woman and a old soldier.
But Marisol? She ended up a pawn in a game, a necessary pawn but still a pawn. And she deserved better than that.
With a glass of whiskey in one hand, and a cigarette in the other he had several people in his house telling him and his family how sorry they were for his lost. Really he wasn't the one that needed there sympathy. Right now it should all be going to his darling Vivian. The poor thing had lost both her father and her mother in a short amount of time and he wanted her to know that the while family was here for her.
Setting down his drink he walked over to his beautiful niece, everyday she grew and looked more and more like her grandmother. That dark hair and eyes, too bad right now they were filled with so much sadness. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder before pulling her into a hug and brushing back her hair. "How are you feeling Vivian?" He asked softly in Italian.
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Post by Vivian D'Amore on Aug 1, 2015 19:17:48 GMT -5
Numbness. That wasn't even the right word. There was no word to describe such an emotion of dullness laced with sorrow felt only when a heart was ripped from one's chest. Her new title was orphan. Sure, Vivian had her family, but it was different. Having lost her father already, of whom she admired greatly, the connection between a mother and her daughter is something that cannot be replaced; after all, the first three minutes, or seconds- she's not really that sure- after conception are when the mother and child bond.
Tears seemed endless, and to think that she believed she cried herself dry after her father's death not so long ago. She just wanted to drink and chain smoke. However, more than anything, she wanted revenge and she wanted to be the one to act as Marisol's avenger. Distantly, she imagined a faceless person suffering at her hand... there was more to what she planned. She wanted to make them fall in love with her- romantically or platonic, it didn't matter- then rip out their heart as they had done to her.
As she replayed her newest aspiration, the ashy tip of her cigarette grew and the cherry died out, no longer glowing. Too many emotions were hitting her at once, all blind siding her. She was scared by this desperation for revenge, she was confused by her anger, she was tired of losing family, she was distraught.
"Shit," Vivian whispered, the ash falling from her cigarette. She jumped at Uncle Enzo's voice ripping her back into reality. With her free hand, she dabbed the moisture from her nose. She fell quickly into his embrace, sucking back a sob threatening to escape her. Shaking her head, she rested her cheek on his chest. "Angry," she replied, her voice somewhere distant.
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Post by Enzo Antonucchi on Aug 2, 2015 20:58:13 GMT -5
"Shush, don't cry child. You know you mother would not want you to be crying. It's not becoming of a face so pretty." He said cupping her cheeks as the word anger left her lips before anything else. And she had every right, what a cruel world they live in. Both the girls father and mother taken from her in such a short amount of time. And her mother ripped out of her life in the most violent of ways, at least it was a painless death. There is nothing worst than a painful death were one suffer. Then again... who knew if it was painless? With Death cold final hand no one has ever come back to talk about how it feels.
"And you have every right to be angry my dear. And I promise you, the O'Briens have paid and will continue to pay for what they did." After all he would personally torture every last family member if he had to, he would burn down all of their homes and this speakeasy if it meant his family felt some vindication for this lost.
But now was not the time for talks of what he would do to the other family. It was simply just about Vivan, and making sure she knew she would be okay and taken care of. "You know the whole family is still here for you, me and your Aunt Vitalia and all your cousins. And I will make sure you are well take care of while we sort through your mother's things alright?"
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Post by Vivian D'Amore on Aug 2, 2015 22:47:28 GMT -5
It was almost a foreign feeling, their encounter. Usually it was something cheery the two would exchange after she passed him off an envelope. Socializing with cigarette smoke consuming the air and the swishing of ice in cups, accompanied by laughter.
As Uncle Enzo comforted her, she automatically pressed her cheek into his hands, favoring to the right. She blinked, warm tears collecting in his palms. Vivian looked up at him, searching for his emotions. Although the redness of her eyes caused some blurriness, and the sting from leakage remained, Vivian wanted to see how her uncle reacted to another addition to the families’ quarrel.
Even with the all of her crying, her face felt dry. Blotchy, chapped... her pores weren’t absorbing the liquor on the surface of her face.
Her chest quivered and, after taking a deep breath to collect herself, Vivian spoke “This I know, uncle. And I thank you. That’s what family is for, after all.” She forced a smile, her swollen lips exaggerating the faint expression. At the pit of her stomach, she felt unattractively selfish. Uncle Enzo lost his sister and here he was giving her comfort when he was just as deserving. That wasn’t the only source of her guilt. She didn’t want them all to pay, just whoever had their hands painted red with Marisol’s blood.
“Uncle?” Her voice cracked. “I-” Vivian’ words were trapped by the lump in her throat. She wanted to ask if they knew who did it. She wanted a name, a face, a clue... she just wanted something to help her with her skeleton plan.
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Post by Enzo Antonucchi on Aug 4, 2015 17:45:16 GMT -5
"Exactly my dear. Just know we are all here for you and we love you." He said pressing another kiss to her head and brushing away more of the tears running down her cheeks. Poor little thing, he just wished that he could take away her pain but deep down... well isn't this how it was meant to be? During the war he saw many a man put his son in the ground, it's unnatural really. Parents are suppose to die before their children, and he would hope that he died look before anyone of his beloved Nieces and nephews.
More tears running down, her voice becoming hoarse and choked up on her tears. "Shush, it's alright. I'm right here Vivan. You know she wouldn't want you to cry." She was trying to ask for something and he shook his head, knowing just what it is she wanted and he sighed. "Now now... I don't want you worrying about who did this. Just know that they will suffer more than I have already made sure they had."
Still he knew that wouldn't be good enough for her, that same light he knew to be in his sister was in her as well. The same fiery passion most of their family member all seemed to have... "You know I can still remember the day you were born. Your mother was so proud because you were just perfect."
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Post by Vivian D'Amore on Aug 4, 2015 18:23:54 GMT -5
With her tears still burning, her accent was thickened by the catch in her throat. Vivian quavered, “thank you, Uncle.”
Closing her eyes as he pressed her lips against her forehead, Vivian wanted to know what was on his mind, she wanted to know exactly what was on her own mind. Everything was just rushed, so full of chaos.
“I don’t want my mother to be dead. We don’t all get what we want.” Slowly, Vivian opened her eyes. Furrowing her brow, she wasn’t as surprised as her gesture suggested she was that he was able to figure out what troubled her. “Uncle Enzo, I believe justice will be made. However-” she sniffled, speaking through a clenched jaw, “I just wish to know who it was.”
She allowed for him to change the subject, knowing her corporation would benefit her later in gaining the information she needed. Vivian nodded slowly as her uncle spoke, showing she was listening. “Mother said that I looked like grandmother when she was young.” Smiling, Vivian brushed away the dampness from her cheeks.
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