LAWLESS
??
Sexuality
24
Age
Bartender (and assassin--Shhhhh)
Occupation
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Offline
May 11, 2018 18:44:37 GMT -8
Tag me @krimsonkitsu
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Oct 5, 2014 8:04:59 GMT -8
Words: 731 Notes: Couldn't Wait to try this puppy out There he was again. Feliciano looked up to see the man enter The Bunker, saw that mop of silvery hair and those startling red eyes. He grinned to himself and went back to pouring his latest cocktail. It was always a good night when this man arrived. Feliciano had plenty of interesting patrons—indeed London seemed to be full of eclectic personalities—but none quite stood out like this man. Feliciano had seen him around The Bunker a few times before, but he was always flirting with the patrons, chatting up Feli’s fellow bartender, Beck, or else writing furiously in his notepad. He was a complete mystery to the Italian, and Feliciano was eager to learn more. Part of what he loved about his job was the stories—each patron came in with a story all their own and Felicano collected them like one might collect baseball cards. He was certain this man’s story would be fascinating and he was determined to add it to his collection. But, so far, all he’d gleaned from Beck was his name—Gilbert Rothstein. It was such an old fashioned name and Feliciano thought it seemed far too stuffy to go with the vibrant young man with brilliant red eyes and a shock of platinum hair. But then again with a name like Feliciano, he supposed he couldn’t talk. At first, Feli was content with just guessing about the man’s life, where he was from, what does he do… but as the time went on, Feliciano got tired of the suppositions. He wanted to know more about this man with the strange features, but Gilbert always seemed to come in when the bar was most busy and so Feli only had the chance to observe him from afar. And so observe he did. If he didn’t know better, he would swear Gilbert’s startling features were artificial (plenty of people walked in with contacts and hair that had been died every color imaginable) but the more he studied Gilbert, the more he decided those characteristics had been with him since the day he was born. There was just something about the way he walked, the way he gestured, the very way he carried himself that suggested he was used to standing out in a crowd. And it was clear that Gilbert enjoyed the attention. He was always in the middle of a crowd and Feliciano could hear the bursts of laughter periodically over the music and the other conversations taking place around him. He seemed to be the life of the party wherever he went and the bar always seemed to feel more…exciting on the nights Gilbert was there. It was as if his energy was infectious, and his fellow patrons were all too eager to catch the bug. Yes, Feliciano loved watching him. But with each night of observation, Feliciano’s desire to finally meet this energetic enigma of a man increased. And finally, finally, it seemed his chance had come. Felicano turned from his station to see the man plop down onto the barstool directly in front of him. Che fortuna! After all this time of watching, of guessing, here was his chance to get to know the object of his observation. Feliciano beamed at the man, feeling the excitement build in his chest as he slid a drink to another patron. The bar was actually relatively slow for a change, which meant he might actually have a chance to learn more about the man he had watched from afar for so long. It was time to turn on the charm. “Hello!” He all but sang, directing his full attention on Gilbert, his amber eyes dancing in his excitement. “It’s always nice to have a new face at my bar!” He held out a hand to the man, eager to start up a conversation. “My name’s Feliciano, and it’s my pleasure to serve you!” He clapped his hands together and rocked back onto his heels excitedly, rearing to win over this man. “What’ll it be? We have a great selection of beers, wines, and cocktails. Anything you want, I can make it!” He thumbed his chest with obvious pride—he wasn’t the star bartender for nothing and he was going to use every talent in his arsenal to learn everything he can about Gilbert Rothstein. “So, what can I start you off with?” made by MISSO for KAT
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LAWLESS
??
Sexuality
24
Age
Bartender (and assassin--Shhhhh)
Occupation
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Offline
May 11, 2018 18:44:37 GMT -8
Tag me @krimsonkitsu
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Oct 2, 2014 20:06:38 GMT -8
Feliciano loved his patrons. It was the reason he pursued bar tending to begin with, to spend his nights surrounded in a sea of humanity. He loved his regulars. He loved their stories, loved their unfolding dramas. His patrons needed him and he gladly fulfilled whatever role they sought from him. He’d been a confidant, a confessor, a compatriot, a willing audience, and an entertainer, just to name a few. He was happy to do it, glad to be the one they sought. But there was no denying it; while Feliciano loved all of his regulars, he definitely had a favorite.
The other employees knew it, had seen how Feliciano lit up when the blonde walked through the door. They knew to reserve the booth in the back corner, far from prying eyes, every third Friday of the month, for the stern man with slicked back hair and icy eyes. They also knew that Feliciano was essentially useless on those nights, that his attention would be effectively tied up with the reclusive man in the corner booth. His boss, though clearly unhappy with the thought of his biggest earner being caught up with one customer each month, wasn’t about to suggest any other arrangement. If someone like MP Beilschmidt liked your bar, you certainly did everything you could to keep him coming. And for The Bunker, that included keeping an extra bartender around on every third Friday and letting your breadwinner spend most of his shift trading stories with the politician.
But this Friday was already shaping up to be different. Feliciano glanced surreptitiously at his wristwatch and frowned. It wasn’t like Ludwig to be so late. In the two years that he’d been coming to The Bunker, Ludwig had never varied his time more than a half hour, at least… not without calling or texting Feliciano to let them know they could free up the booth. But now it was nearly midnight and the Italian was starting to get worried… Ludwig should have been on his third or fourth beer by now...
“Feli! Your boyfriend is late!” Beck teased as she tossed him a bottle of gin. Beck was a spry young Londoner with a sharp eye who had been bartending at The Bunker longer than he had. Feliciano liked working his shifts with Beck, even though she teased him and constantly hounded him about the organization his station, she also was the one who matched his work rhythm the best, together their bar ran more like a dance floor than a workplace. Feliciano caught the bottle, blushing furiously at her words.
“Oh… Feli you have a boyfriend?” A patron asked, leaning on the counter, batting her eyes at him coyly. She was a middle aged manager from South Hampton, who came for the gorgeous faces just as much as she came for the drinks. “What’s he like? Is he cute?”
“Eh?! Of course I don't have a boyfriend!” Feliciano blushed further, pouring the gin into the tumbler. “Beck was just joking, Sam—“
“Oh, don’t let him, fool you, Sam, Feli’s completely in love.” Beck interrupted, leaning forward as she spun her own tumbler expertly. “But the guy’s not what you’d expect for Feli. He’s this scary looking man who’s got half the staff scared of him.” (Beck, like most of the staff, neither knew nor cared what Ludwig did for a living.)
Feliciano pouted as he finished making Sam’s favorite(a gin and tonic infused with fresh strawberries.) “You shouldn’t say such things about our regulars… He’s really a nice guy—“ he looked up as the door opened and a well dressed man stepped through. Feliciano beamed as a warm relief spread through his chest at the site of his friend. In a world of changing faces and superficial relationships, it had been nice to have one constant. To have someone to look forward to seeing. He looked to Beck, who sent him a knowing smirk in return.
“Go,” she nodded, as Sam craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of this mysterious visitor. “It’ll give me a chance to test out Dylan’s chops.”
Without waiting for any further encouragement, Feliciano was gone, making a beeline for the corner booth as he straightened his vest and fussed with his tie. After two years, Feliciano knew that the best way to put his friend at ease was to appear as tidy as possible (and keep him well shot of Feliciano’s work station.)
“Ludwig! You’re later than usual! I was starting to get worried... But you're okay--that's a relief!” He sang, coming to a stop with an infectious grin, and rocking back on his heels, excitement building in his chest at the sight of his friend. “Can I get a hug today? You promised me a hug last time! What can I get you first? I just got an order of Oettinger in, especially for you!” He beamed, feeling for all the world like a puppy, preforming tricks for his master. But if he could get a rare smile from the man, it would all be worth it. The older man had always been too serious, and Feliciano just wanted him to relax, to unwind for a few hours and just… enjoy life for a change.
But getting a smile didn’t look like a real possibility, not tonight. Feliciano could feel it from the instant their eyes met. He frowned and slid into the booth beside the larger man, his fingers tugging on the man’s sleeve worriedly. “Ve, Ludwig… is everything all right?” He asked, trying to make his concern heard over the din of other conversations. His hand slid to Ludwig’s, squeezing the gloved fingers comfortingly.
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LAWLESS
??
Sexuality
24
Age
Bartender (and assassin--Shhhhh)
Occupation
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Offline
May 11, 2018 18:44:37 GMT -8
Tag me @krimsonkitsu
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Post by Feliciano Vargas on Sept 15, 2014 3:28:13 GMT -8
| Feliciano Mateo Vargas
Bartenders... Known for lending a sympathetic ear to needy patrons and always ready with a tonic to soothe any ill. Just be wary. While this bartender may wear a cheerful smile, it may not be so wise to turn your back on him... |
Sex: Male | Age: 24 | Orientation: ?? |
Ethnicity: Italian | Assassin | Lawless |
Height:172cm | Weight:142 lbs | Hair:Auburn |
Eyes: Amber | Skin: Light Olive | Build: Slim |
Feliciano is never quite what he seems. To the average stranger, Feliciano is a cheerful, friendly (sometimes overly so), and chatty young man. He is known to strike up conversations with strangers, no matter what time commitment he might have. To the other tenants in his flat, he’s that strange neighbor who keeps weird hours and is constantly losing his house key and forgetting to water his plants. By now they all have spares so they can just let him in and prevent the inevitable waterworks that occurs otherwise. While he can be a bit of a chore, Feliciano is also the one who plans all the get-togethers and makes sure to know the names of every tenant so that no one feels left out in their complex. As a result most have grown rather fond of the little Italian. His coworkers know him as a space cadet and a bit of a klutz when he’s not actively tending bar. They tend to schedule him for easy cleaning activities like sweeping or taking out the trash. His boss readily agreed to this so to avoid any more unfortunate accidents with the glassware. He’s also not allowed to chop ice anymore as a pretty girl walked in one afternoon and he was too busy flirting with her to pay close attention to the proximity of his hand and the icepick. These people will all say the same thing: “Feliciano is a sweet boy, but I worry about him on his own.” And it makes sense, most of the time Feliciano is too lost in the beauty of the world and the people around him to notice anything mundane like dishes and chores and bills.
Feliciano is likewise free-flying in practically every other aspect of his life. He hasn't had a serious relationship since high school, preferring the freedom to chase after anyone that catches his eye. Despite the rather pervasive rumors that have spread as a result, he typically leaves it at mild flirting and kissing. The flip side of being so people oriented is that Feliciano really struggles when it comes to self-motivation and decision making. He lives for the validation of others and, without it, he falls apart. And, though he does have a large number of superficial relationships, he struggles to form any serious bonds. So, while he needs someone in his life to keep him on track, he lacks that close friend or companion to whip him into shape. Very much attached to the present, Feliciano doesn't think much about the future and is often broke as a result. He enjoys having a good time and doesn't bother worrying about how to make ends meet until he has to.
As carefree as Feliciano is in his day-to-day life, when it’s something he cares about, Feliciano is all business. A true showman, he excels most when all eyes are on him. His love of the spotlight, combined with the hand of an artist and the palette of a true gourmet has made him one of the best bartenders in London, something that is a never-ending source of pride for him. Unfortunately, while he is a genius at making cocktails, he still has no sense of tidiness and so his station is the bane of all runners. (So much so that they decide who is responsible for him by rock-paper-scissors every shift.) Feliciano loves his job and especially loves getting to know his clients—he makes a point to know the names and stories of his regulars so that they feel at home whenever they sit as his bar. Everyone who knows him there believes him to be a free spirit, with a love of conversation and the mind of a dreamer.
However there is a side to him that very few have ever come across. Years of working as a hired killer has marred Feliciano irreparably. While he may be a sympathetic and charming young man in a civilian life, his personality as an assassin could not be more different. In order to be an effective assassin, Feliciano had to suppress any sympathy or human weakness, anything that might lower his chances of success. As a result, Feliciano is cool, clinical, and almost cruel in his emotional distance to the situation while he completes the contract. He does cling strongly to a certain code, refusing to carry out a hit on anyone without direct ties to the Underworld, and he sends flowers to the families of the targets he does carry out in an apology. It is only when the contract is completed and the thrill of it has ebbed that Feliciano feels the weight of his actions and though he tries to justify it, the loss of another human life eats at him. He has tried to quit many times, now that his agreement with the mafia is complete, but it has become a full-fledged addiction now. He had become so conditioned to the adrenaline and the challenge of that life that he cannot simply walk away. Feliciano is ashamed of this part of him and wishes desperately that he could just live a simple and carefree life. But due to his addiction, he cannot find it in himself to quit, so he goes to great lengths to hide these traits (and his double life in general) from the outside world. |
+Carbs: Never one to shy away from food, Feliciano considers it to be a day wasted if he hasn’t had at least two carb based meals. He is a very energetic person after all, and needs a good source of high octane fuel—what better than linguini? +Naps: Feliciano doesn’t follow any particular schedule, he sleeps when he’s tired and plays when he isn’t. His late-night life means he spends a lot of his days catnapping. +Dancing: Feliciano loves dancing, and is a master at many types of dance styles, he has always had a natural grace and sense of rhythm. When he's drunk he'll make up his own moves, which can get... elaborate. +Strangers: Feliciano has a special ease when it comes to meeting new people. He loves hearing about who they are what their plans are. Strangers, in turn are all too willing to confide in him, especially after he's handed them their third beer. +Painting: One of the many things he learned from his grandfather, Feliciano loves to paint. His flat is littered with canvases in various states of completion. While everything else in his life is in a constant state of chaos, he is surprisingly ordered about his art supplies. +His Brother: Despite the complicated relationship between Feliciano and his brother, Feliciano loves him and does his best not to cause him any trouble. He'd always looked up to him as a kid and even now can't help but envy his ability to fit in within a structured society. + Cute Girls: Like most of his family, Feliciano has a weakness for a cute face and will drop just about anything to flirt with a pretty girl. He considers it his solemn duty to skirt-chase. | -Being ordered about: Feliciano hates being told what to do. So far as he’s concerned, it’s his life and it’s his concern how he lives it. If he sees value or fun in what you say, he’ll do it. Just don’t get your hopes up. -Routines: Being a man who lives in the moment, nothing bores him more a set schedule. He hates the idea of doing the same thing day after day and will purposely skip work every so often and hop on the first bus he finds, just to shake things up a bit. -Running: There is nothing worse in Feliciano’s opinion, he hates feeling sweaty and sore and out of breath. Sure he’ll run when there’s something to run from of if he’s playing football, but just for sake of it? No thanks. - Yelling: Perhaps because his family was so fond of this form of communication, Feliciano hates being yelled at. He will do anything to escape the situation at hand, up to and including crying and pulling out his best puppy dog eyes. -Diets: Feliciano was put on a diet exactly once in his life by his mother, and it was the most miserable 3 days of his life. He became an absolute monster, snapping at anyone who had the gall to come close or (the humanity!) look him in the eyes. Now the very mention of diets put him in a rather dangerous mood. He just can’t understand why anyone would want to deprive themselves of the greatest pleasures in life.
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* Being his own person: After constantly being under the orders of his grandfather, parents, teachers, bosses, and now the various seedy Underlords, Feliciano dreams of a day when he is free to do whatever he pleases. He would love nothing better than to spend his life free to pursue whatever whims catch his fancy; from painting to traveling to cuddling with someone he loves.
* Never worrying about money: Spending more time than he’d ever admit worrying about the next job, Feliciano’s dream is to reach a point where he never has to think about money. He doesn’t really want to be rich, he just wishes he could go and live his life without worrying about whether or not he would be able to pay rent.
*Traveling around the world: Hearing all of his grandfather’s stories, growing up, ignited a thirst in Feliciano to do the same. His second job occasionally requires him to travel, but there is rarely time for him to just kick back and enjoy the new people and scenery. Some day he’d like to just travel wherever he’d like without worrying about avoiding the law.
| ~Being left behind: Nothing scares Feliciano more than being left behind to be at the mercy of an enemy. Being an assassin is a lonely position and all too often, they meet their fates alone and abandoned by their employers. Feliciano is all too aware of this fate and has actually seen it happen to friends and rivals alike, and the idea that he could suffer the same fate still wakes him up at night ~Being grievously injured/ dying: Feliciano is terrified of physical pain and death and will go out of his way to avoid it. ~Not being loved: Worse being abandoned, worse than dying, worse than pain, Feliciano fears the idea that he will never have that special someone to love and who loves him in return. While he hasn’t found anyone who can put up with him long enough to be in a relationship with him, he desperately wants someone to share his life with. ~Rats: Disgusting, filthy creatures the lot of them, if Feliciano had his say, he’d never see a rat again in his life. ~Being discovered: Though Feliciano is addicted to his life as an assassin, a large part of him is in a state of near constant panic about the truth coming out. He is fully aware of the pain and the shame it would cause his family, but cannot bring himself to stop.
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History: Born the youngest of two brothers, Feliciano was always the golden boy, almost from day one. A cheerful and easygoing baby, his parent doted on him and lavished attention in an almost absurd fashion. Feliciano thrived on the attention, excelling at just about everything he turned his hand to, from art to sports to academics. His grandfather showed an interest in him at a very young age, taking him for days and weeks at a time. Feliciano loved his visits with his grandfather, who taught him how to paint and who instilled in him a deep love of history, culture, and literature. Given such a nurturing and relaxed environment, it was little wonder that Feliciano developed into an easy-going and self-assured individual.
School was equally as easy for him. Armed with an angelic face and warm and inviting personality, he quickly made friends among students and faculty alike. He was very active in sports and became president of the art club. While he didn’t spend a lot of effort in his studies he still managed to stay above the curve and everyone raved about how much promise he had. Everyone was convinced that he was going on to do grand things. after he graduated secondary, he landed himself into a decent Uni, much to the pride of his parents. However, he only stayed on for about a year before he grew bored with the system and dropped out, choosing to live a life that is not dictated by others. His parents, of course, were furious, and refused to let him move back with them.
Unsure of what to do next and on the bad side of his parents for the first time in his life, Feliciano was desperate to start over somewhere new. He chose London to be closer to his grandfather and brother and, because he had no real marketable skill, found a job working as a runner at a local bar called “The Bunker.” (An old renovated air raid shelter.) While he quickly showed that he had no talent for the job, the owner did notice his eye for mixing and offered him a chance to stay on if he could create a new signature drink. After a few days of experimenting, Feliciano returned with a drink he lovingly dubbed “Twilight in Venice”, which sealed his role as the creative genius behind The Bunker. He has worked there now for 5 years and though he is constantly on thin ice with the owner, both know he is too valuable to let go.
Feliciano was perfectly content with his life, though it was far from respectable or profitable. Like most service workers his cash flow is extremely volatile, with periods of extreme inflow, interspersed with periods of near poverty. Due to his inability to plan ahead, those lean periods were especially rough on Feliciano as he never saved money in advance and so has to scramble just to make ends meet. However, he was happier than he'd ever been at school, he was finally his own man, free of any expectations or conditions. However, that all changed one cold night in February. Feliciano was twenty years old and walking back from one of his shifts in the early morning hours when he was jumped by a group of men. They beat him, took everything he had on him, and left him for dead, slowly bleeding out in an alleyway. It was only by chance that a man, Angelo Vanore, happened to pass by. He brought a barely conscious Feliciano to a personal friend of his who had a lot of experience in treating traumatic injuries.
It was only after a few days of recovering that Feliciano found out the truth regarding his savior. Vanore’s family had transplanted to England in the 30’s and had spent three generations digging their roots into the underground world of organized crime. Angelo was the second in command and immediately saw a dark potential behind Feliciano’s angelic face. So he sat down with the rattled young man and explained very simply that he was now in the debt of the Vanore family, who had so graciously saved his life. Feliciano was not about to argue that point, but after his own family’s dealings with the Mafia back in Italy, Feliciano was eager to get away as soon as possible. Angelo, ever the opportunist, picked up on that eagerness and made a proposal. If Feliciano worked as an assassin for two years, Angelo would consider the debt repaid and Feliciano would be free to walk away with no repercussions from the Vanore family. Though the idea of killing anyone turned Feliciano’s stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of involving his family in more mafia dealings, nor could he stand the idea of moving away from the only family that would still talk to him. And so he agreed to train as an assassin, on the condition that he would only be killing criminals.
Feliciano’s training was marked by constant failures and tears—usually on Feli’s part (though there was one notable occasion involving his hand to hand instructor and a poorly aimed kick to the groin….). But eventually, Feliciano began to pick up the skills needed to complete his new job, and became frighteningly proficient in a wide range of weapons. His first target was the strong man of a rival gang (and was in fact, one of the men who had attacked Feli in the alley.) While Angelo had picked the assignment, hoping that the feelings of vengeance would overwhelm whatever conscience might still persist, the trauma of his first kill nearly overwhelmed the boy. Feliciano fell into a near catatonic state, barely speaking to those around him for days. Angelo, worried that he’d pushed his newest project too far, sent him to a psychiatrist in league with the Vanore family. After a few weeks Feliciano seemed all but cured, but it soon became all too evident that he was far from his old self. Once the shock of killing another human being died down, Feliciano found that the adrenaline of completing such an assignment was sweeter than any other accomplishment he'd had before. As an assassin, Feliciano would lose himself to the exhilaration of the assignment. He had no regard for anything other than the chase, indeed he seemed to thrive off of the challenge of it all. Angelo, considering this to be his best success yet, eagerly put the boy to use. Beginning in London, Feliciano was soon sent all around the world to kill anyone the Vanore family viewed to be a threat. Feliciano was very careful to stay under the radar so not to arouse too much suspicion from the law, all the while telling himself that this was only a temporary situation. As soon as his two years were up, Feliciano would be free to resume his care-free lifestyle.
True to his word, Angelo gave Feliciano the chance to leave once he'd fulfilled his end of the deal. At first Feliciano jumped at the opportunity, thrilled to place this dark chapter in his life behind him. What he didn’t expect were the nightmares. Feliciano had always been a deep sleeper, unconcerned with the night terrors and insomnia that plague so many other people. Even as an assassin, Feliciano had the uncanny ability to sleep just about anywhere. And yet, his return to a fully civilian life plagued him with nightmares, usually populated by the faces of those he had killed and their families. On top of that, Feliciano struggled to find motivation in his life, now that his main source of adrenaline was gone. Though he continually told himself that he was glad not to be hurting people anymore, he found himself aching for another contract, found himself checking the burner phone that Angelo had insisted he keep. Finally, when the nightmares and the longing became too much, Feliciano made a decision that he never thought was possible—he decided to return to the life of an assassin. While he still takes the majority of his targets from Vanore, he is not opposed to hiring out to other organizations. However, while he returned to his second life, Feliciano has done so in a much more limited capacity. He hopes to one day phase out role as an assassin and fears that if he doesn’t, it will take him over completely. While the thought doesn’t scare him as much as he knows it really should, he is terrified over the thought of his family finding out what their golden boy had become.
So he continues to fight against the ever encroaching darkness, throwing himself into the glittering and electric nightlife of London. He works every night he can at The Bunker, hoping that with enough laughter, cocktails, and regulars, his other life will simply fade as though it had never existed. And yet, as he goes to bed each morning, his fingers buzzing with need, demanding a new target, Feliciano is forced to face a painful truth.
Getting out may be impossible.
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For perhaps the first time in his life Feliciano Vargas felt disgust for a human being. It was a new feeling, he had to admit, even as he fell in step just behind his newest contract on the way to the restaurant. This was not his normal style; when it came to his second job he had learned that less contact with people was better. But this job was a two-parter with four times the payoff; and after a particularly rough week of bartending, Feliciano was going to need something drastic to keep himself from getting evicted. Luckily his name and face hadn’t made the rounds, either in the legal or less than legal circles, making it far easier to go in personally and gain the trust of a certain corrupt politician. Indeed that’s what his employers were counting on.
It had been surprisingly easy, Feliciano noted, even as he uttered some bland reply every so often in response to the more or less constant stream of nonsense spilled out by the Member of Parliament. All it had taken was one conversation with the MP over the phone, claiming to be a member of the Moretti family organization, and Harris was all too willing to wine and dine him and even bring Feliciano into his office to go over the newest political strategies—never once asking for any form of proof of the Italian’s identity. Once a bull of a man, this greying MP had long sense gone to seed, growing fat off of the exuberant luxury being sent his way by various underground organizations. As far as Feliciano could tell, his mind was long gone too, washed away in a current of alcohol and women—he was little more than a puppet now. Which would have been perfect except for one thing. MP Harris was none too concerned with such things like “secret information” or subtlety anymore, which made him an undesirable for two reasons. This propensity for loose lips had become all too obvious to his fellow members of Parliament, which meant he was no longer a supply of information as no one trusted him enough to bring him in on a significant discussion. But, and perhaps far more dangerous, was what he might let slip about the underground. So Feliciano, practically unknown outside of the darkest rooms, was sent in to remove the inconvenience, but not before learning if Harris had spilled any important information to the wrong people.
And so…. Here he was, listening to this bloated, corrupt beanbag of a man and had been for the past day and a half. It was so boring, so terribly boring and the brunette wondered if the politician had ever uttered anything worth consequence. Satisfied that the underground’s secrets were safe, the assassin had no choice but to bide his time until he could safely eliminate his target. But biding his time was turning out to be harder than he’d expected. Feliciano began looking for anything to occupy his time out of sheer desperation. So he spent most of the appetizers daydreaming about the blonde currently making eyes at him from the other side of the bar. Feliciano grinned furtively at her, momentarily forgetting the truly awful human being at his side, and felt his chest swell as she smiled in return.
“So, Moretti, I was told you make one heck of a cocktail,” Harris said, dragging Feliciano out of his rather nice daydream. The Italian frowned and turned back, struggling to hitch on his cheerful smile as he turned back to the politician.
“Si,” he said with a shrug. “I worked as a bartender for a few years. Why?” He leaned forward eagerly, brown eyes lighting up as he met the gaze of the MP. Finally, a chance to wrap up this train wreck of a case. “Is there anything you might like, ve? Perhaps a gin and tonic? A Bloody Mary? We can see if they’ll let me behind the bar, I’m sure they wouldn’t say no to someone as powerful as you.” With this man it would be all too easy, feed him one too many drinks, drag him home and slip an innocuous pill into his water as Feliciano put him to bed. It was not his usual way of killing—far too personal for his tastes, but it was a slippery one. The pill was unique, even by assassin standards—a gem created by a pharmacist hoping for an anti-arrhythmic. Instead this magic pill caused cardiac arrests within 5 minutes of ingestion. Best yet, it broke down into natural sugars in no more than a half hour. Even an autopsy would show little more than an increase in blood sugar, which would hardly point to murder; indeed it was the only way Feliciano could carry out his contract without potentially being dragged before a judge. The brunette suppressed a shudder at the thought of spending even another hour with this lump, but on the other hand…
“MP Harris, this table is far too big for the two of us,” Feliciano suggested innocently. “And dinner is far more enjoyable when shared with some lovely ladies. Perhaps we should invite the group over there?” He nodded over to the bar, where the blonde’s coy smile would stagger a blind man. To his relief the MP nodded eagerly, his eyes fixed on the long sinewy legs and microskirts of the girls in question. Feliciano let out a relieved sigh as he nodded and quickly made his way over to the bar.
Who said you can’t mix business and pleasure?
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Kat | Krimsonkitsu (skype) | "What has four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening? I don’t know, but I trapped it in my bedroom. Send help." (Courtesy of Welcome to NightVale) | If Princess Toad looked liked you, I would have killed Bowser years ago
| made by CAPTAIN of BACK TO NEVERLAND |
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