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Post by blueeyedseth on Jul 3, 2010 0:13:43 GMT 1
The night was cold and the streets were dark. A heavy rain poured down on the usually crowded streets of Rome. The drops hit the ground with such force that their combined sound formed nothing more than a deafening hiss. Thunder rolled in the distance and lightning streaked through black clouds which overtook the sky. Even young lovers didn't dare venture out into the poor weather, opting to change their dinner plans to another, much drier night.
The rain was not without its benefits though. Besides helping to relieve some of the debilitating heat and humidity of the past few weeks. The rain had been a long time coming and the next morning the people of Rome would once again enjoy comfortable weather.
Somewhere down a street where many of the more well of citizens lived a light clicked on in a bedroom window and a dark haired man sat up in bed. His hands were clenched, below his fingers a red liquid escaping his palms. He made a grunt of disapproval and tossed his blankets aside, getting up and heading to the washroom off his bedroom to clean his self-inflicted wounds from his nails.
Once he’d finished he stood staring into the mirror, braced against the vanity. He heaved a sigh. He hated how that dream could so easily get to him. After another moment of staring, Antonio De Benedetto washed his face and dried it before leaving the washroom again, the memory of the dream still fresh in his mind.
He imagined he would get no more sleep tonight and so he instead retrieved his cell phone from his bed side table and sat down on the king sized bed he’d just left minutes ago. Once he’d gotten past the ringing and heard the answer on the other end he smirked. “Ciao, Demetrio. Ho bisogno di schiarirmi le idee. So che sta piovendo ma non avete tempo?”* His voice was soft, in an almost purring manner. He was a master at getting what he wanted.
A voice replied through the earpiece, almost equally as soft but tired sounding. The male on the other end had either been sleeping or had just returned home. “Per te Antonio, certo che faccio.”**
“If you’re too tired-”
“Antonio, you wouldn’t have called if you didn’t really need to. I’ll be over in thirty minutes.”
“Grazie.”***
“Siete i benvenuti uccellino.”****
***
Morning had come to Rome once again. The sun shone brilliantly through the once lit large bedroom window of Antonio’s room. As expected the rain had stopped and now the features of the room were more than clearly visible.
Antonio was a man of good taste. The walls of his room were white but featured some lovely carved architecture which hinted at the fact that the house itself was likely quite old. The marble floor was well polished and partially covered by a sand coloured area rug that seemed to have been embroidered by hand. The rest of the room was adorned in the same sort of elegant décor in the form of a solid armoire, a desk with scattered papers, white curtains covering the large windows, and many other shows of his wealth. The bedroom itself was large enough to hold a school assembly in and tucked away in the corner was the king sized bed in which the man slept every night…well, almost every night.
On the bed, under a lump of blankets, Antonio stirred. He was no longer wearing his night clothes and was joined by a second and equally as underdressed male, taller and likely older. He may even have been Antonio’s mentor.
“Whatever would your wife say Demetrio?”
“She would say nothing. She knows it is not her place.” A silence followed this.
“I was going to say we should stop doing this when I ask you to help me clear my head. It may give me a false sense of security.” Antonio chuckled and shifted closer.
“You could say it but you know it would never happen and it’s your fault. You give me that look every time.”
“I know…”
“If you’re alright then I should go. We’ve both got work to do.”
In the following time the two men had showered, dressed, and Demetrio left. Antonio couldn’t help but notice the empty feeling of the house but he shrugged the notion from his mind. He knew better than to assume that anything would be okay if he were to stray along that path permanently. No, he knew well enough what would happen. A shudder ran through him as he absent-mindedly stroked his half-Glasgow smile before snapping out of it and also venturing out into the day, greeting a few people on the street as he went, adjusting his tie as he stopped to buy breakfast.
*Hello, Demetrio. I need to clear my head. I know it is raining but do you have time?
**For you Antonio, of course I do.
***Thank you.
****You're welcome Little Bird.
(Also sorry about any mistakes in the Italian. I'm definitely not even close to fluent.)
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Post by luthien on Jul 5, 2010 8:26:48 GMT 1
The world was still a dirty place.
The tall form of a man stepped out of the alley, pausing on the border between it and the street. Brown hair was slick with rainwater, causing the strands to stick to the man's face and neck and darkening the color almost to black, the solid red streak along one side of his head the only part remaining vivid even when wet. The whole of him was doused, from the long black trench coat to the black steel studded shoes. It was as if he had just stepped fully dressed into a river, or maybe had been caught in last nights storm.
But his blank expression offered no hint of annoyance. Sky blue eyes remained impassive and unreadable as the man slipped a hand inside his coat, pulling out a damn cigarette case as his other hand summoned a lighter from another pocket. Within seconds, the stick was between slightly tinted lips and lit, smoke curling past his fingers.
Mikail sighed, taking another deep drag. He was cold. Cold and wet. He slid his hand back into his jacket pocket, looking up at the bright sky. The rain had cleared away the heat, at least. But try as it may, the rain couldn't actually clean anything. This place was still dirty. He smirked, chuckling softly at the odd thought process he was having. Of course the world was dirty. He worked to keep it that way. He stepped into the street, beginning to walk. He was hungry, and he needed a change of clothes. Which would come first was still yet to see.
But at this point, he was willing for some sort of sustenance. His hotel was quite a walk away, after all. To bad he couldn't speak or read Italian, he might actually find something he wanted to eat.
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Post by blueeyedseth on Jul 5, 2010 9:19:31 GMT 1
Antonio smiled, laughing with the staff at the restaurant he’d chosen for breakfast. He didn’t always eat at restaurants for breakfast but he liked to after the rain, savouring the fresh feeling the world seemed to have. After joking around with the young lady who was serving him he left her a more than generous tip and stood. He did have work to do that day and he hated to be late when he didn’t need to be.
The young man flipped out his phone, dialling a number from the directory and began chatting in fast Italian to whomever it was on the other end. He stopped near a vendor and browsed what they had for sale as he chatted on the phone. He was actually getting information on a target for the day but he knew how to cover his questions to sound like a general conversation. They had all been taught this skill and wouldn’t be allowed to work important jobs without knowing it.
After paying for a pair of sunglasses Antonio slipped them on and headed off down the street once more. He hung up the phone, the information committed to memory as he took the directions he’d been given. This one was liable to be a bit messy.
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Post by luthien on Jul 5, 2010 9:47:24 GMT 1
Mikail was standing in front of a vendor, staring at the warm contents beneath the glass rather suspiciously. The man on the other side was staring at him in exactly the same way, looking a little frightened by the tall wet person. Mikail didn't care. He carried an air about him that always made people nervous. He liked it that way, it made his job a lot easier.
Though anyone who knew him or who he was would be shocked to find him standing all alone as he was. But he liked doing legwork, it was how he relieved the boredom that so often took over his mind.
But really, all the of the warm foods look irritably sweet. He liked sweet things sometimes, but he wasn't sure today was one of those days. The bruise was gone, but he still had the taste of blood in his mouth from when he had been hit last night. Not that that person could hit people anymore. Even if he were living, his arms were no longer active.
"...What is this?"
The man said something in Italian, shaking his head. Mikail sighed smoke, pulling the cigarette from his lips and tapping ash to the ground, his lips turning in an irritated scowl. Damn, he didn't want to learn italian just to be able to pick something to eat.
"Прокляните это. Гребаный ублюдок, почему не может Вы по крайней мере говорить на английском языке или кое-чем полезном как этот."*
The eyes of the man behind the vendor widened significantly, looking even more nervous at the tone of Mikail's voice.
*Damn it. Fucking bastard, why can't you at least speak English or something useful like that. (<-- I am also sorry, if anyone speaks Russian. >< I got this translated from the internet, because I don't know the language at all.)
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Post by blueeyedseth on Jul 5, 2010 10:08:59 GMT 1
A string of foreign language caught Antonio’s ear and he looked to where a vendor seemed to be rather intimidated by the foreigner. He sighed and took pity on one of them, though he wasn’t quite sure which it was as he walked over. “Do you speak English?” He asked the foreigner. His accent was still sharp of someone who did not speak the language fluently, his obviously Italian tongue giving a twist to each English word.
“If I may.” He turned to the vendor and chatted to him in Italian for a moment, easing his nervousness before looking to the foreigner for his answer.
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Post by luthien on Jul 5, 2010 12:01:25 GMT 1
Mikail blinked when a man suddenly came up and spoke to him in English. Well, that was relieving, at least. He waited until he finished speaking to the vendor, when the Italian turned back to him, obviously waiting.
"Yes, I'm a foreigner. Can you tel me what food this is?" he asked flatly, still obviously slightly annoyed by his own inability to communicate something so basic.
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Post by blueeyedseth on Jul 5, 2010 22:19:08 GMT 1
“It is a pastry.” Antonio said simply, not going to bother going into detail explaining it. “It is very sweet.” He took his sunglasses off before motioning to another item of food. “That is less sweet.” He motioned to another. “That is a bit spicy.” He explained, resting the sunglasses on top of his head. “Many people here don’t speak English fluently. You may want to buy a phrase book so that you can get by.” His advice did have a sort of stinging insult behind it, suggesting that if he’d been intelligent he would have known to do that in the first place but it was covered with a friendly sort of sound which ended up making the advice sound helpful and non-mocking at the same time.
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Post by luthien on Jul 6, 2010 5:50:53 GMT 1
Mikail picked up an undertone that he had gotten from almost everyone here who had spoken English. "I think I've been told that five times now," he said calmly, glancing over the pastries again. Each time he ignored them. He didn't want to learn Italian, even if it would be beneficial, since this had been the tenth time he had come to this place.
But in the end, his work didn't involve talking to people. It was far more physical, and didn't need words at all.
"I'll pass. I don't care enough. I understand the money system, and I know the layout of the city, so I don't need to ask for directions. Most people understand what I'm saying, in the end," he replied, a little vaguely. He pointed to the one the man beside him had said was less sweet, looking at the vendor. "I want that one."
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Post by blueeyedseth on Jul 7, 2010 8:22:07 GMT 1
“Just a suggestion.” He nodded and purchased the sweeter of the pastries he’d explained before waving. He adjusted the gun on his hip under his coat, making sure it never became visible. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.” He chuckled before disappearing back into the crowd of people.
Once Antonio had become lost from obvious sight completely he ducked into an alley and hurried off at a much quicker pace, hoping he’d be able to get his job done quickly and quietly rather than spend too long on it.
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Post by luthien on Jul 7, 2010 8:30:48 GMT 1
Mikail watched after him a moment, before taking the pastry, paying for it before he began walking to his hotel, wanting to get out of his wet clothes.
He had another job tonight, so he needed to go and get changed quickly. He had a weird feeling about that person though...
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Post by dragonslayerssdd on Jul 7, 2010 21:07:21 GMT 1
The man sat perched on the rooftop, a wide brimmed hat shielding his face from the sun, watching the people as they moved through the streets, Roma was one of those places he always preffered to observe from on high, It was easier to find and take a target with the skill of a sniper's arrow...err....Bullet....
He was clad in military issue boots and what looked like a WWII era english officer's jacket, It was still wet from the last night's rain. He even appeared slightly damp around the edges. His single good eye, the color of a smoldering ember, followed the people below him. How the world had changed in so many years.
Through the crowd his eyes picked a face. Now there was a figure that struck a chord. It had been a few years since they last shared the same sidewalk, it'd be nice to see him again. The perminant smirk broadened slightly as he sprung into a brisk stride across the roof and lept to the next...Where exactly was the man headed....Sounded like fun to at least find out.
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Post by Nagi-kun on Jul 8, 2010 6:22:24 GMT 1
"When in Rome, do like the Romans do." That age-old saying had a lot to do with what the two of them were currently doing in the ancient city. It was the sort of job that didnt need the whole team, but the place just recalled far too many memories for the silver haired psychic. None of them were bad enough to disturb him of course, but the smells, the architecture, the culture, and the people were some of the very archetypes that were the basis for the supernatural he'd once spent his life exorcising. It was like taking a trip down not-too-distant memory lane, and it didnt dispel his suspicions that this case was going to be just like old times. After scouting the area for their target, Naedri stood in a dark sewage stinking alley waiting to hear from Fen. Where the carrot top had gone, he had no idea, and honestly he didnt need Fen around for this kind of job. But then, the carrot top could be pretty resourceful when you least expected it of him. Especially if you well knew that image rarely ever spoke everything. Slipping from the alley, Naedri kept close to the wall, running his hand along it without touching until he reached a shop window. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and pressed his bare palm to the glass. A thousand images flooded his mind and he winced and fought the sudden urge to vomit when his gut twisted in knots, his legs giving out so he slumped almost to the ground with his hand still on the window while he focused his mind on what he was looking for. It only ever took a minute to get the vision clear, but the first wave was always the worst, especially if it was the sudden unexpected kind. Fortunately this instance was intentional. His brow was furrowed from the previous onslaught still but now held a hint of confusion as it seemed from the trace that Fen was fine and on his way back from somewhere Naedri didnt recognize. Wasnt that just wonderful? He hoped somehow that meant their target would arrive at the staked place right on schedule. Pulling his hand from the window, he carefully straightened up and slowly opened his amethyst eyes, a soft groan behind his lips as he pushed the visions from his mind. Just when he thought he was recomposed and was about to make his way to the cafe across the street, he cringed and bent at the waist then proceeded to start hacking up a lung. If he had to do that again anytime soon, he was going to kill someone. |
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Post by blueeyedseth on Jul 10, 2010 5:31:59 GMT 1
Gun drawn and mood sullen, Antonio looked around. There were few people around at this time of day though it was to be expected in this area anyway. He tucked his weapon away again before knocking on a door. He stood there waiting to be let in. He hoped that this wasn’t going to be difficult. The man wasn’t married nor did he have children.
When the door opened he stepped in, greeting the man. “You’re in a lot of trouble sir.” Antonio told the man as he shut the door.
*
A few moments later Antonio emerged from the house and left quickly. He knew full well that someone would eventually find him. It probably wouldn’t be pretty. Maybe he’d phone in an anonymous tip. For now though he stretched and returned to the main streets, far away from the scene. He had finished his job for the day. He pulled out his cell phone, alerting his boss with a smile ‘it’s done’ before putting on a smile and taking the rest of the day to relax.
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Post by dragonslayerssdd on Jul 11, 2010 10:21:22 GMT 1
When Antonio entered the building he crouched and listened closely even though he didn't need to. He knew exactly what was going on, having done it himself more times than he cared to remember.
~*~
The man lept from the roof with perfect feline grace, landing almost silently on the street. He followed at just the right pace after Antonio. How to get his attention now without spooking him was the question. He tipped his hat a bit lower over his face and scanned over the massive crowd. He weaved his way through, undetected before slinking up behind Antonio and dropping his hat on Antonio's head, speaking just low enough...
"Glad you see you're still working."
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Post by blueeyedseth on Jul 13, 2010 5:35:54 GMT 1
Antonio, having just barely caught the sound before he was spoken to had his gun drawn and pointed at the chin of the man just behind him. When he felt the hat however, he looked back. "You should know better than to sneak up on me. And what do you mean 'still'? I'm only young still. Younger than many people who do my kind of work." He kept a firm hold on the hat now, despite the fact that it happened to fall over his eyes.
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