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Lords Of Liam (Open/Accepting); A modern mob roleplay. Action, drama, romance.
Topic Started: September 4, 2010, 1:46 am (842 Views)
The Warlord
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“Sir, We have captured Faust” A german hound spoke into his cellular phone. They had gagged, tied up and knocked out the Faust frog and had him set out in a car as they dutifully made their way to the Zeitmann’s estate.

Zeitmann was pleased. He rested his back against his had caught in his grasp the heir of the Faust powerhouse, but not only that, he had managed to do so while the French frog’s father was away on business. He actually couldn’t have planned a more perfect scenario if he had wanted to. He didn’t care much about the repercussions, a fire fight in a crummy part of town; simple thugs exerting their dominance over a measly territory. Had it happened in any other more important parts of town, he wouldn’t have dared acted, but this… was a golden opportunity. Without the heir, and the boss in the picture; Faust will be an anarchic mess. He doubts the Faust’s mob will allow the information of their heir be kidnapped be brought openly.

They’d lose all credibility as a security force if they couldn’t even protect their top hierarchs. Zeitmann also didn’t want the news to spread more than it had to. He didn’t want his men to attack overzealously, it would ruin everything.

They’ll try to save him. He expects such predictability from the Faust. They’ll be so narrow-minded in their goal, it’ll allow Zeitmann to infiltrate their territory and take over them, one by one. This is what he sought, finally the war between the two titans will end once and for all, and ZeitCo will come out on top. Even if the old Faust comes back, he won’t be able to salvage what Zeitmann will have left him. A genuinely dark grin appeared on his face as he ordered his men to set up several decoys.

He set several armed cars to different fronts, no doubt the Faust will want to know where the heir went and this was to confuse them. Also, to further protect his businesses. This was an open declaration of war at what was considered a “peaceful” time. A full retaliation would be expected. Let them come, let them march into his territory. He’ll have the home field advantage. He got up from his chair, and shut down his computer. He then proceeded to open his computer and took out its hard drive as he stepped out of the office with it in a tightly shut briefcase. He took out his cellphone as he made his way out and texted to his beloved daughter.

“Prepare another meal, we have a surprise visitor.”

Faust was heading for his estate; it was the most secure location of his entire kingdom; a heavy steel fence surrounding the area, several sentries patrolling the area, bulletproof windows, several vicious attack dogs and highly trained servants.

He stepped into his car and motioned the driver to take him back home. He sat back on the soft chair as he sighed of relief.

It took several minutes for Zeitmann to get back home, the gate opened as the car drove up to his estate. Another car followed behind him. He smirked. Monsieur Faust was here, just on time. The two cars pulled up in front of his estate and Zeitmann stepped out and walked to the 2nd car, just a his men took out the French heir, still passed out. “Is he clean?” The men answered by nodding, and showing Zeitmann the bag containing all of the Faust’s possessions. He motioned his manservant to take the belongings and put them away, while he ordered his men to take the young lad to the dining room, reminding them to take out his shoes prior to entering. The maid just had it cleaned.

Zeitmann walked up to his estate, as the door was opened for him and he stepped inside. He walked to the Kitchen, were his daughter generally was whenever he arrived late. He peeked inside and saw his daughter. His men should’ve finished tying up Faust to the special dining room chair. He had one chair that was specifically bolted down to the floor and had special restraints for the ankle and wrists. This was not the first time Zeitmann has had valued guest enter his abode, though it certainly was the first time he got his hands on the young Faust.

“Little Sophie, Do Follow me. I have someone I want you to meet” He motioned her to the dining room.
King of Wackatopia: "I'll guarantee your safety, give you meaning, give you knowledge and something to believe in for the low cost of your personal freedom."

Fang: "Look at you, you're gorgeous, you're beautiful, and when i look into your beautiful eyes all I see is this magnificent elegant creature, full of grace, full of strength. You're mesmerizing. You're intoxicating. I want you near me. I want to indulge you."

Ryan: "If my survival means the death of innocents, then so be it"

Kyliden: "This one is strong. He's brave and takes what he needs. He's a better werewolf then i could ever wish to be."

Diego: "I can't control what i feel, querida mia. This spark will become a big lively fire. It will consume me, it will consume you and everyone around us, and once nothing is left, new life will spring eternal."

Wade: "She made me love her before she sired me. She wanted a companion, a friend, a lover to indulge her throughout the centuries. Her demise filled me with emptiness; she was to give me a purpose and now I'm alone."
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Wicked
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"Sorry, Mr- Lake," Sophia apologized as she tried to focus on the bottom drawer of the refrigerator. His words rang true, though she'd never admit it out loud, especially not when she was wired like a Christmas tree. She had her own ideas of what was wrong and what was right in the name of the corporations but dare she admit it out loud and her father would become paranoid to some extent over her plans. But, oh, she did wish she could trust people. Life would've been so much simpler if her father's corporation wasn't ZeitCo. If they'd been a small league operation, none of this craziness would exit. But, this was ZeitCo and she had to find ways to keep her intentions true and secret.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and Sophia pulled it out. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the message. Another guest? But who? Sophia turned to Lake, about to ask for answers when she spotted the look on his face and the phone in his hand. Something wasn't right. Throughout the entire night, Sophia had that nagging suspicion that something else was going on.

Sophia bit her lip, holding back the questions she wanted to ask. Her father would be home soon and then she'd be able to find out everything. For now, she'd prepare food. Acting as if there was nothing wrong, Sophia turned back to the fridge, pulled out two cuts of salmon and placed them in the oven. Her composure didn't last long as her fingers tapped impatiently against the counter as she waited for it-

There it was, the sound of a car, no two cars, pulling up to the driveway.

It took all her strength and focus not to run to the front door and yank it open. Sophia needed to know what exactly her father was doing and whether it had been foolish. Though, she had to keep a calm exterior on as her father moved through the house and into the kitchen. Sophia gave a weak smile to her father. His words were haunting.

"What are you talking about? You never bring-" Sophia trailed off as she followed her father to the dining room and spotted the Faust heir sitting, strapped, in one of the chairs. "Papa, why is he here?" she asked quietly, trying to keep her composure from shattering. Had he just kidnapped the heir of FaustCo?! Was he completely mad?

Inside, Sophia was reeling, screaming, and thrusting the poor blonde boy out the door where he belonged. This wasn't right. She understood, didn't approve but understood the mob operation but kidnapping was not something Sophia expected. It made her stomach drop slightly, almost as if she'd been taken on yet another surprise motorcycle ride.
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aoberaz
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Lake continued to pace around the living, unable to sit down such was the level of his anxiety. Thinking back on his thoughts during the moment in Golden Lucky he compared his emotions and felt, upon the reflection that he would have rather stayed in the Chinese restaurant. At least there he had been able to come up with some sort of escape plan, but that had only been possible because their presence had gone completely unnoticed. How was he expected to protect Sohpia with this new and ludicrous change in situations. Lake was a bodyguard, he couldn't fight a war for this imbecile of a mob boss. He wondered how the man had manged to keep his family's power if he was willing to take such unnecessary risks as these?

Lake's one comforting thought was as arrogant as the man was, he surely had the sense to remove the Faust boy from the city forthwith. But as he turned to look out the thick front windows of the house, he literally had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from swearing out loud. The headstrong fool was bringing him here. HERE! Of all the places inside the city or out, he was bringing the heir of the Faust fortune and mob powers into his own home! Had he lost his fucking mind?! Did he honestly thing steel gates and thick walls to stop the full fury of the Faust mob once they realized where their chief's son had been taken?!

Thinking quickly, Lake sprinted full tilt into the kitchen to warn the woman he had only that day been reassigned to protect. But it was too late; as Lake came to a skidding stop at the kitchen archway he saw the unconscious man in a chair whose placement and adornments were almost as ridiculous as the idea of bringing it's occupant under this roof. Lake wanted to clutch at his hair and scream like a banshee that Zeitmann was the biggest fool he had ever known or seen. But no amount of shouting insults would change the situation, it was far too late for that anyway. Instead Lake stepped into the kitchen proper and picked up the bag of personal belongings Zeitmann had discarded, knowing what he would find when he opened the top of the bag. Sure enough, Lake's eyes dilated in terror at the sight of it's contents. Doubtless the items within held at least one tracking beacon, and taking the bag away from the counter top he strode over to the microwave and yanked the door open fiercely. He was half way to throwing the entire bag into the machine and setting it to "destroy" when his reason caught up with the rest of him. It was already too late, and even if it wasn't, how could they be sure the boy didn't have similar devices implanted within his own body? Throwing the bag back towards it's original spot, where it landed and slid almost all the way off the black granite surface. Did the man lack a single ounce of common sense?

Stepping towards Zeitmann, Lake echoed the question his daughter had posed to him, "Mr Zeitmann, if I may be so bold, I realize I've only today been assigned to the position, but it is nevertheless my to ensure the safety of your daughter. With that in mind, I must ask you what, exactly, you're thinking by bringing this most dangerous of men into this house. More importantly, what, exactly do you intend to do with him now that you have him here and have effectively trapped up all within your estate? What, if anything, do you have to gain by forcing the presence of this man upon your daughter? Surely any business you might have with the man can be carried out in a safe location, if not a location as far, far away from that of your daughter. What do you expect to happen? And do you honestly think you're doing anything besides placing your daughter's life in a terrible and unnecessary state of danger?"

Lake kept his tone as polite as possible, if Zeitmann really had cracked under the high pressure of his post the last thing Lake wanted to do was incur his displeasure. Indeed, it was no morbid sense of curiosity that begged him to ask the question, but rather a need to understand exactly what to expect. Yes, he had managed to capture the heir of the Faust power and wealth, but now that they had him what were they supposed to do with him? They could kill the man, but doubtless news of that would reach to every corner of the FaustMob before the night was out. And once it had, no amount of tall gates of bullet proof glass would be able to protect them when they hired some lowlife to highjack a gasoline truck and run it straight down the front door of the mansion, or else steal a plane and crash it in on all their heads.
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Iris
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Marcelo understood now how this happened, bad luck, very bad luck. He had walked right into one of Zeitmann’s surveillance areas. It did not matter that there were men outside, making sure nobody suspicious came in, the dogs were already there. Yes, it was clear, they were keeping their eyes on Sophia and he happened to appear right into the line of fire. His parents did not know he had planned to be a part of this considerably minor operation turned sour, so their personal wrath would have to wait.

He regained some consciousness now, he could feel he was restrained, no surprise there, and there was a swirl of voices moving around him. He ached tremendously and breathed out, finding his breath quickly met by cloth. Sight returned slowly, first he saw a group of grey blurs. Next he could identify them, Sophia, the foul Zeitmann, and some lackey of sorts. His chin was on his chest and he lifted his head a little, a motion so small it seemed to go unnoticed, and listened to the guard complain to Zeitmann, about something. Marcelo listened, his dark grey eyes half open, and expressing a look of tiredness and mild interest. It didn’t truly matter to him that he was gagged, what was there to say? ‘Hi, we haven’t met, but could you wait a couple minutes on killing me? Thank you.’

He moved his eyes to the feet of Sophia. She seemed upset over something. Perhaps the fact that Marcelo’s men would be here very soon to bring hell down on this place and she was still there. Really, why was she there? He couldn’t resist. He lifted his head fully. So what if they knocked him out again? Then he saw it, he was in the dining room of a mansion. This had to be Zeitmann’s. Incredible. He had never been in the Zeitmann estate before, a worthy tourist destination. He met Sophia’s eyes for a moment. There she was, if timelines moved on as they had for generations she would be his greatest enemy. She was a rare type of woman, not conventional, but very beautiful. He found it amazing that she could come from the line of a man like Zeitmann, who was most certainly not beautiful by any standards.

Petty thoughts like these kept Marcelo distracted from the unfortunate facts of his situation. He treated it like a social experiment, and he wondered what they would do now.

Je Ne Regrette Rien
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The Warlord
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The man simply walked to the dining table and sat on the chair as one of his servants served him a glass of wine. He sniffed the red liquid, absorbing its aroma before taking a sip. He was unfazed by the situation as he watched their reaction. He wasn’t a fan of Reiser’s tone; how could such an insubordinate big mouth have survived so long in his organization? Martens must’ve had something to do with it. He certainly didn’t appreciate his tone of voice. The restraint was clear. He did find it an ounce amusing.

“My daughter is my heir. She will inherit everything, Mr. Reiser. Her existence is a terrible and unnecessary state of danger, but you’re worrying that the French will come for this boy? Of course, they will! That’s what I’m counting on!” Zeitmann had slammed his fist on the table at the sudden outburst as he turned his attention to monsieur Faust. As long as the boy was alive and under his roof, their mob wouldn’t try anything reckless. They would want the boy alive; if they blow up the entire building then they’ll kill the precious Faust heir.

“Our guest has awakened. Bonjour Monsieur” Zeitmann spoke in a mocking French accent. “Don’t worry; I won’t be the one to kill you. You’re more useful to me alive, make yourself comfortable. This will be an interesting night.” Zeitmann motioned for the food to be served and looked at his daughter. This was a gambit on Zeitmann’s part, a big one. This was his chance to end the rivalry once and for all. His biggest wish was to give Sophia an empire that didn’t rely on the mob aspect.

“Do sit down, and you too Herr Reiser; If it wasn’t for you taking my daughter to that horrible part of town, none of this could’ve happened and I had a fleeting suspicion that Faust members would infiltrate my territory.” He reached for Faust’s gag, and removed it, allowing the young lad the ability to speak. “Now, I’ll speak plainly: why is the heir of FaustCo doing so poorly protected in my half of the city?” This would also be an opportunity to squeeze the most in formation out of the lad.
King of Wackatopia: "I'll guarantee your safety, give you meaning, give you knowledge and something to believe in for the low cost of your personal freedom."

Fang: "Look at you, you're gorgeous, you're beautiful, and when i look into your beautiful eyes all I see is this magnificent elegant creature, full of grace, full of strength. You're mesmerizing. You're intoxicating. I want you near me. I want to indulge you."

Ryan: "If my survival means the death of innocents, then so be it"

Kyliden: "This one is strong. He's brave and takes what he needs. He's a better werewolf then i could ever wish to be."

Diego: "I can't control what i feel, querida mia. This spark will become a big lively fire. It will consume me, it will consume you and everyone around us, and once nothing is left, new life will spring eternal."

Wade: "She made me love her before she sired me. She wanted a companion, a friend, a lover to indulge her throughout the centuries. Her demise filled me with emptiness; she was to give me a purpose and now I'm alone."
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Iris
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Marcelo watched Zeitmann go about his mock formalities. The slamming of the man’s fist onto the table had certainly woken Marcelo up from his own thoughts and the rest of his little show made Marcelo boil inside with contempt. He did not show any true reaction until the gag was taken off, after which he gave a welcome exhale. It was most uncomfortable trying to breathe into a piece of cloth for that long. Finding himself presented with a question, he had several ways in which he might answer. For one, he could throw the same question right back, after all one Mr. Reiser wasn’t exactly full security force for a girl like Sophia in an unsavory part of town. He paused for a long moment and tilted his head although it send pounding sensations of pain through his body to do so. “Not to be churlish, but if I may, I’d like to request my book back. I was right in the middle of an act.” he explained in a soft unobtrusive tone.

How long until the mob got there? Five? Ten minutes? Well, there was still the question of how long he had been out. The sky did look a lot darker… He gave up on calculations, he could only wait. It would be an uncomfortable wait though, he never liked to be the center of attention. Normally he was able to avoid it, they didn’t call him Cellophane for nothing.

Je Ne Regrette Rien
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aoberaz
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Glancing between Zeitmann and Faust Lake instantly knew who was in control of the situation, and it wasn't Sophia's father. The denial of the question posed to him spoke volumes to Lake, not the least of which that this young man was quite at his ease, strapped hand and foot in the heard of his enemy's home. But that wasn't what scared him, what scared him was the way he saw Faust's eyes glance to the sky outside. Following his gaze he watched as the last rays of the sun disappeared, leaving the city in a state of semi-darkness. Stepping quickly to Sophia he gently pulled her to the side and whispered directly into her ear, making damn sure she was the only one who caught his words, "You father is displaying his greatest weakness, hubris. It's blinding him, and unless you can convince him to release this man, your entire house and everyone in it is at risk. If FaustCo knows anything about him, it's that he thinks he's invincible. If you can't convince him I beg you let me take you away from here. I'm not an army, I can't fight a war to protect you, and your father is taking far too many unnecessary risks, particularly with your life which is my responsibility. Please," and now his tone was one of desperate pleading, "make your father come to his senses, or leave this place with me before it becomes the epicenter of Liam's greatest disaster."
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Wicked
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This was a complete and utter nightmare. How could her father have made such a rash decision by bringing Marcelo here? It was practically suicidal! Sophia knew that this mansion was secured and battle ready but not for these kinds of situations. It wasn't meant to be the prison for FaustCo's heir. This was shear madness.

Sophia was in an inner turmoil, unsure of whether to speak up as Lake and her father argued over her presence here. For gods sake, could they first establish why on earth he'd brought their enemy into their household?! She peered over at the man in question and caught his eyes on her. She felt the guilt of association running over her and turned her eyes away to look at his bindings. She completely ignored her father as he waved for the food coming in. Sophia wasn't going to play this game.

Almost as if Lake had read Sophia's mind, he was pulling her aside. She eyed him fiercely, occasionally glancing over at her father as he formally spoke to Marcelo Faust. Everything about this was strange and unnecessary. "I'll try," Sophia whispered back before briskly walking over to her father. She breathed in slowly before softly putting a hand on her father's shoulder and leaning in.

"Papa, our house won't hold up against whatever Faust has coming. Neither of us knows their numbers but we both know how fierce they'll be in their attempts to get their heir back while the CEO is MIA. You need to think this through and get this man out of here for the time being. Do you think mother would agree with how you're orchestrating things right now?" Sophia spoke quietly to her father, hoping that something would trigger his senses. He must be tired, malnourished, something was wrong that was making him act so strangely, so dangerously.

Again, Sophia's eyes moved back towards Marcelo as he spoke and felt a lump form in her throat. He was too calm and she knew why. Faust's mob was sure to come slamming through the Zeitmann walls in order to get him back. To have the place she was born and raised in was not something Sophia was planning on allowing to happen. Over her dead body would she allow anyone to put bullets into these walls, this furniture, her home.
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Evangelion Bot
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ZeitMob Warehouse

Martens looked down at the FaustMob Capo tied to the chair before him with cold, apathetic eyes; the man met his gaze with fearful, shifting eyes. There was blood running down the capo's face from several gashes accompanied with a myriad of bruises and batters. One eye was largely swollen, several teeth were missing, and a crooked nose evidenced that it was badly broken; both the capos hands were battered and broken as well.

As Martens casually removed the cigar from between his lips, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the cellphone from the overcoat. Flipping it open and dialing for Zeitmann, he listened to the ringing and then, assuming Zeitmann answered the phone, said, "I got the delivery and the capo. The capo will live." The last phrase some would not understand, but Zeitmann knew how Martens worked with prisoners. "If you wish for him to be transported somewhere, he is currently at my warehouse."
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The Warlord
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« Ah yes, of course!” Zeitmann snapped his fingers as his main manservant; a very tall stoic man called Stedmann held in his hands the bag containing all of Faust’s belongings that were taken from him. He was informed prior to entering his estate that they did a thorough search on him, no doubt being French he felt no discomfort from the intrusion. He started rummaging in his bag looking for something that looked like a book; no doubt it wasn’t an actual book. The youth of today don’t know the existence of paper and ink, what has this world come to? He found the bug that Faust was carrying, but paid no real attention to it. He was expecting it; he’d have been worried had they NOT found one. Faust Sr. was as paranoid as he was, it comes with the position.

“I can’t seem to find any book here… Maybe it was dropped when they captured you. It does happen. I try to turn these low-lifes into decent obeying soldiers, but they’re not Germans. You surely understand. Fine cuisine, fine arts all thrown out the river because some quido can’t pronounce ‘Molière’”


He sighed exasperated as he closed the bag and handed it to Stedman who stood between Faust and Zeitmann. The German boss spoke with such a carefree tone. He seemed happy, composed as if he didn’t realize the big danger they were in. Even little Sophie might not recognize the happy man before her.

Zeitmann looked up at his daughter. He, of course, saw Reiser whisper something to her. He lacked subtlety that boy. It did remind him of something, actually… It reminded him of several facts, and one more reminder was coming. Before Zeitmann could answer what his daughter had suggested to him, his special cell phone rang. Martens!

“Ah, Excellent work in capturing him! I’ll not bother asking about the cargo, I know very well how efficient you are. So efficient, in fact. I’ve decided to send you a special gift and tip.” He stood up as he took out a pen from his suit and scribbled Martens name on a piece of napkin with several exclamation marks and handing it to his manservant. Zeitmann then pointed the bag and pointed outside. His manservant nodded and moved to with Faust’s belongings. He waited until the door slammed shut before turning his back to Sophia, Reiser and Marcelo. Outside a car was seen screeching away at high speed as the manservant casually returned by his master’s side.

“You’ll receive a package, plant every item on the Capo you didn’t kill and cover his head, and move him to the other side of the city, toward the docks. I want heavy security on him, no Germans except for Beckenbauer, Biermann and Drescher. Once that’s prepared, call me. This’ll be a heavy night Martens, better get suited”

Those three Germans were traitors, one of them might even sound familiar to the young Faust, and were pretty much sent on the convoy to die. Should they survive, then they’ll live to see another day, but that was very unlikely. Zeitmann shut his phone and placed it back in his pocket. He casually turned around to face his daughter.

“My dear, you are right. I sent Marcelo away” He said as the Faust boy was still tied up in his chair. He started eating and sniffed loudly. He turned to Reiser. “He has no more bugs on him, Herr Reiser. My men are trained to properly search a man, especially ‘french’ men.” He gave Marcelo a quick glance before continuing. “Speaking of bugs, I do have a single question for you.” Zeitmann took out the gun he had in his suit and placed it on the table; a very beautiful and well-kept Walther P38. “Why on Earth, would you attack poor Herr Fink and Herr Hahn? As I recall, you were sent to protect my daughter and you work for my sub-legal operation. Traitors are something I simply do not tolerate Herr Reiser, much less those stupid enough to do so while I’m watching. I ought to kill you right now, but you did indeed extract my daughter from the restaurant so I’m giving you the chance to properly explain yourself.”

When it originally happened; Zeitmann was very shocked, so much so in fact he forgot to get angry over it. He remembered the incident now. Lake was right there, standing in front of him, best to confront him now. Should Lake even try to move any of his limbs except of his mouth to answer, then he’ll get a bullet to his left knee.
Edited by The Warlord, September 13, 2010, 10:48 pm.
King of Wackatopia: "I'll guarantee your safety, give you meaning, give you knowledge and something to believe in for the low cost of your personal freedom."

Fang: "Look at you, you're gorgeous, you're beautiful, and when i look into your beautiful eyes all I see is this magnificent elegant creature, full of grace, full of strength. You're mesmerizing. You're intoxicating. I want you near me. I want to indulge you."

Ryan: "If my survival means the death of innocents, then so be it"

Kyliden: "This one is strong. He's brave and takes what he needs. He's a better werewolf then i could ever wish to be."

Diego: "I can't control what i feel, querida mia. This spark will become a big lively fire. It will consume me, it will consume you and everyone around us, and once nothing is left, new life will spring eternal."

Wade: "She made me love her before she sired me. She wanted a companion, a friend, a lover to indulge her throughout the centuries. Her demise filled me with emptiness; she was to give me a purpose and now I'm alone."
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aoberaz
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Lake crooked an eyebrow at the question he had suddenly been posed. He couldn't help it, everything from the removal of Faust's possession to his assumption that all bugs had been removes to the question itself stank of face value. "I doubt this is the time or place for the interrogation of your own men's insubordination, what with the greatest risk to everything you've ever worked for still sitting squarely in your dining room," he indicated the still bound Faust, "But I doubt you would care even if I could prove you wrong about Mr. Faust's tracking status. However, since my points obviously missed their marks, I'll spell them out for you, sir. First, it was my hope that in revealing the weakness of your two face men you would refrain from the future sacrifice of those with obligations, and therefore weaknesses to be exploited, outside of their assigned tasks. Having read the reports I obtained on the personnel involved in protecting Miss Sophia Zeitmann I was clearly aware of their potential weakness and made it my first executive decision as her newly appointed head of security to remove them from the equation. I assure you they suffered no lasting harm, unless it was to their pride.

"Secondly, as I'm sure you're already aware given my background and predispositions to keep my work as professional as possible, I refuse to rely on the technological gadgets that you think provide insurance. Perhaps you are not aware, but it is in the nature of technology that no means of electronic tracking can be either foolproof nor perfectly secure. The transitions of your daughter's daily life will end, unless you would like any potential technological terrorists to gain access to it." Lake realized he was pushing the limits of insubordination, but he nevertheless felt the need to add, "Should you wish to know of your daughter's daily activities, I suggest you ask her about them and give her at least the semblance of personal privacy. The purpose of security at this level of clientèle is to assure the wellbeing of the client while allowing them to live as normal a life as possible. This cannot happen while under the constant gaze of not only the forty-seven men and women you have following her without her knowledge, and the countless she is aware of, but also your own. I'm sure you understand that a woman of your daughter's position will require a little more freedom in order to develop into the head of your great company than what you have provided. Unless, of course, you want to model her into a pale imitation of yourself, and deny her the life and rights that are self evident within all living beings. However, the personal implications of the security you have placed around your daughter are none of my concern, and I doubt you would care even if it were; seeing as I only carry half your precious German heritage in my blood. Her personal security, however, is. I don't ask you to trust me, but I ask you to have faith that I will do my job. My father did not raise me to be anything less than the best at what I choose to do, and I would not disappoint him. If you can't trust me to do that much..."

Lake pulled aside his jacket, removed his pistol slowly, carefully, and deliberately using only his thumb and forefinger to make it plainly obvious he had no intention to start something that would only result in a firefight that he would doubtless lose. Instead he stepped over to Stedmann, forced the .50 cal weapon into his hand, knelt down in front of him, looked up at him and held the barrel to his own forehead.

"Order your man to pull the trigger and let us be done with it. Because I will not serve as an insult to my father's memory." Such was the fervor and passion in his voice and actions that he could leave none in the room in doubt about his motives. All he wanted was to do what that phantom of his father had ordered of him. After all, he still had a job to do, and he couldn't do it without this display of faith. In the end Lake knew that trust was a two way street, and despite his earlier displays of contumacy, Lake knew that Zeitmann would never be the one to take the first step down it.
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Wicked
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The Derp Queen
Her fingers ached for the comfort of her piano keys. Sophia was so stressed by everything that was going on and couldn’t help but have her fingers tap against her leg as if she were playing a composition. Music had always been a soothing hobby that Sophia would take up when under distress or frustration. It always found a way of slowing down her pacing heart, only this time she didn’t have the luxury of letting it all out.

Why was her father being so intolerant? She felt as if she was trying to restrain an overflowing volcano.

Sophia watched as he rummaged through Marcelo Faust’s confiscated items, feeling her stomach turn over. Such extremes! She wouldn’t go so far if she were the CEO. Oh, god, what would she do about all of this when the crown got passed on to her? She would have to find a way to abolish all the nonsense. Her visions for the future would not work under such hostile conditions. Her father wasn’t helping by making such bold and… imprudent decisions. It could all backfire quite terribly.

“Papa!” She exclaimed as he pulled out a gun and threatened Lake, the one person who allowed her somewhat of a freedom. Not only would it be absolutely and completely vile to shoot this man but it would be a waste, as well as the end of her “liberty”. Though, it was curious as to how Lake Reiser had taken it upon himself to take out two of her guards. Now, she knew that a few of them weren’t the best of her security but they were all very close to her, seeing as they were all she saw on a daily basis. Sophia didn’t take kindly to having them beat to a pulp. As well, what if they had only just started? That would have been a pity, but then again this was a business and if they weren’t the best, they couldn’t stay around for too long. Sophia would have to adjust and realize that emotions were a weakness for someone like her. She could not risk letting pity and sympathy get in the way or she would cause her own death through stupidity.

Throughout their conversation, Sophia couldn’t help but peer over at the ever-present Marcelo Faust, still tied and still in their residence. Her father was a fool if he thought the boy didn’t have a bug on his person. It was almost impossible for Sophia to take out the bugs that were constantly being placed in her garments. Sophia almost giggled at the memory of herself trying so hard to pick a chip out of one of her beloved sweaters back when she was in middle school and quite rebellious. She’d gone so far as to undo the sewing. Of course, that had defeated the purpose entirely but Sophia had felt accomplished when she finished.

The boy looked harmless, though Sophia knew better than that. The files, now that she was able to focus more, had stated that he was a part of the Faust Mob. Not only that but as the heir, he had to be intelligent and cunning. Though she felt sympathetic, Sophia had to realize that he was the enemy and he was a threat as long as he was within these walls and in her family and loved ones company. He needed to get the hell out.

Sophia’s thought process, though, was derailed by Lake Reiser’s speech. Truly, it had only been a few words that had kicked her brain into gear. My father, he’d said. Ah! She was such a dimwit! No wonder Reiser had been a familiar last name. Sophia had to concentrate hard to keep herself from gapping or bursting into tears as she remembered his father, Malcom, had been like a second father to Sophia during her high school years. It was strange how now that she looked closely at Lake, she could pick out the features that resembled her old protector. How was it that she hadn’t noticed before? How could she have so stupidly forgotten the name? Then again, Malcom’s death had been a sudden blow to Sophia. It had been the second death for Sophia and it had ripped open old wounds from when her mother had died so early in her life. Sophia supposed that as a way to protect herself, she’d tried not to remember too much about the man who’d protected her without fail and then was suddenly gone in a flash, so much like her mother. He’d been the one to fill in the void left by her father when business took him away from her and after his death, the void was there once again.

“Stop! This is completely ridiculous,” Sophia practically growled as she saw what Lake was doing. She grabbed the gun from Stedmann and quickly emptied the barrel. “You both are so thick. As if bringing an enemy into our household wasn’t enough, you’re going to start turning on each other by arguing? “ As she ranted, Sophia stuck the bullets into her pockets and the gun in the other. “Stop being so irrational. Speak with one another, do not point guns. Papa, you may be in charge of a mob but I refuse to be a witness crimes committed on an impulse."
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Marcelo felt only semi-present as he watched the events going on. He was but a wisp of a man sitting there tied up in that chair. His bleached hair was a careless mess and his suit was rumpled, but his gray eyes kept focused and serious. Although Zeitmann was speaking to him, he brushed it off, it was either insanity or an intimidation tactic, either way, the best response is no response. This seemed perfectly acceptable for both sides in this instance.

Now having your things given to some lackey was a little bothersome. Not like there was much the recipient could do with Marcelo’s belongings. There was a handgun, a computer with one book on it, the usual bugs, and some money. He understood this was a means of confusing his rescue party but there was still the matter of the chips implanted under his skin. He always hated those things, people used those for dogs for Christ’s sake. If that turned out to be his salvation he’d be truly agitated.

Listening to Mr. Reiser’s speech was very interesting. Marcelo blinked in acknowledgement of his position as a threat to the Zeitmann Corporation. He certainly wasn’t going to lie about his position on that matter. As this man went on Marcelo found the slight impudence really impressive, and he did have a point. He looked down at the folds of his suit, feeling no need to watch, only to listen. Poor Sophia, Marcelo knew what it was like to have an overbearing family. He was pushed into a business that did not suit him, covered in trackers and arms and given two new personalities to balance. His beloved little sister was always stuck in their parent’s estate, being held up undamaged just in case Marcelo got himself killed and they needed a back-up plan. Oh what sadness this all filled him with, making the aching of his body much more evident. He only lifted his head again hearing Sophia call for the two to stop their fighting.

Oh how she scolded them, it was like a Greek drama. That’s what they reminded him of, Jocasta, Oedipus, and Creon. Yes, what a “King Oedipus” Mr. Zeitmann made. What did that make Marcelo? The blind prophet? Even in his melancholy that was an amusing thought. He smirked, withholding a chuckle. No, that would never work. He looked out the window at the sky and calculated the minutes passed, taking into account the average amount of time this little diversion would take. A convoy of mobsters traveling at 50 mph at an inconstant velocity…

He moved his fingers as counters, making loose calculations. Okay Marcelo, endure this fool’s theatre only a little bit longer, he told himself. He sighed. “Sophia’s right of course, we French would never allow such conduct at a dinner table.”

Je Ne Regrette Rien
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It wasn't long before Eve's excitement wore off, and eventually she found herself in a quiet park, sitting in a small, sturdy tree's engulfing branches. A long run in a random direction, then a cab when her legs refused to continue, had led her to this remote area, where she had immediately swung up into the place she sat now and proceeded to gaze at the small remainder of nature lovingly.

She was on the verge of falling asleep when she finally noticed the retreating sun, the darkness falling over the proud skyscrapers of Liam. With a yawn and a comfortable stretch, she lowered herself carefully from the tree- couldn't have any scratches or scrapes, lest one of the guards becomes curious- and proceeded to walk toward her home-

Just where was that?

The petite girl frowned, turned from side to side to study her surroundings. Very few people were out now, even less than she'd expect to see in this derelict part of Liam. It was getting darker by the second as she tried to remember which way she came from, night creeping around the tall buildings, the healthy trees, the lonely streets, now malevolent when they were robbed of light. She sighed, continued to glance from side to side with increasing exasperation. It'll come to me soon, I'm sure... now, did I come from that corner with the Chinese restaurant? I think so, and I went... right? No, left. Left? Or did I come from the other end of the park?

She took a deep breath to keep herself under control, and held a worried look for only a moment longer before her face suddenly brightened. I'll call Marcelo. He'll know what to do.

As she pulled out the rarely used cell phone her father had given her- with the slight suspicion that she wasn't to refuse, just before she proceeded to remove components to find the newest tracking device with the help of a manual she had discovered in the depths of the Faust building- she felt a wave of guilt wash over her. Her older brother didn't know about her little 'adventures'. Well, she told herself insistently. That's just not important, is it? I'm not going to get home otherwise, and he... won't mind. He won't. She doubted the last thing she thought, but pushed it to the back of her mind as she continued to punch in Marcelo's number, burying her shame as best she could, only for it to rise once again the moment she heard his answering machine.

"It's... erm... Evey," she said quietly, almost apologetically. "I'm... lost. I know- I mean... if you get this, can you call me back? ... Bye." With those halting words, she snapped the phone shut and stuffed it in the pocket of her large, baggy jacket, then proceeded to walk slowly toward the corner with the Chinese restaurant, praying it was the right way.
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'Tis a Deviant.

"Depths of my Mind"
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This roleplay is closed due to inactivity or by request of the Game Master. Please contact one of the Roleplaying Moderators to have it reinstated.

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