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Bianchi
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Jul 3, 2016 9:22:59 GMT 2
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Post by Valeria Bianchi on Jan 30, 2016 11:15:19 GMT 2
This was the morning Valeria had previously looked forward to. Exspecially when she was surrounded by her family back in Italia, or when she knew Ferruccio was around. It was the date of her birthday. Saturday morning the 30th January. Quite early in the year, and winter in Florenze. Not a winter where the grounds were covered with snow, but a winter cold enough for the people who lived there to wear thick clothes and drink warm drinks more frequently. Here in Chicago the snow was just a thin layer on the ground, no more than a couple of centimeters the past few days. It was starting to melt, and it would probably take less than a couple of hours for it to be gone when the sun rose.
This early morning Valeria woke up because the phone on her nightstand was calling. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the name of her mother on the screen. She quickly picked up the phone and swiped her finger over the screen to accept the call before she put the phone on speaker and holding it in her hand infront of her. "Buonguiorno mama, come stai?(Good morning mom, how are you?)" She greeted gladly. The conversation continued in Italian. It had been a while since she had talked italian(if you look apart for a word or a sentence) fully without correcting herself to english. Something her mother actually pointed out every now and then because Val appearantly had replaced an italian word with an english one while they spoke. Her mother wished her a happy birthday, and told her how much she and her sister missed her. She asked about Ferro and the house and everything. Val only told her that Ferro was now currently downstairs making breakfast(A lie) and that everything was good in their little apartment. (Another one) Valeria hated to not tell the truth, but it was no doubt that she had to when it came to this matter. She could not tell her mom about the fact that she was in a mafia group, and neither could she tell that her husband hadn't been home at all the past 4 months. It would worry her to much, plus put her in danger.
When the call ended Valeria would stand up from the queensized bed and head out the door. She wore a t-shirt and shorts, and found out it was enough clothes. She hadn't plan to do anything this very morning, nor afternoon, and most likely, she would be left alone in the kitchen. The call from her mother had reminded her of the cake they used to make together when birthdays approached, and Val was tempted to make it too. An italian chocolatecake. She turned on the radio before she strode around the kitchen searching for the ingredients. Music was always a good way to keep her mind focused. First thing she needed to do was to fetch the base. The day before she had made chocolate cake, a simple one, not anything fancy at all. It could easily be used as base since Valeria was to lazy to spend her whole day at the kitchen to make the cake.
With a slight hesitation she walked into the cooler to fetch eggs, milk and the riscotta cheese. Val had been sure to change the temperature in the cooler, so it now had the right temperature to store food. There after she fetched the sugar, vanilla extract and chocolate. First thing she did was to mix together a chocolate pudding and placed it over the chocolate cake base. Thereafter she mixed cream together with ricotta cheese, eggs, sugar, and vanilla until was smooth enough for her to use in the cake. She poured it in a new pan and placed it in the cooler. She had to wait for it to cool down before she could place the chocolate base and pudding ontop.
After about 30 minutes of wandering the kitchen and checking her phone for messages from friends, and especially Ferro, the riscotta part of her cake had cooled enough. She did the last finishing touches of the cake and decorated it with some crushed cookie crumbs. She gave herself a minute to eye the cake. The scent reminded her of home, of the little house back in Florence. God she disliked the mansion. She hated that Ferro was away travelling due to his work in the family. She hated the fact that there was almost no one around. Even the maids where rarely to be seen. Valeria almost believed they were avoiding her. The italian took a plate down from the cabinets in slight frustration and fetched a knife and a fork. She used it to cut out a piece of the cake and placed it on the plate. Val brought the fork and walked over to the window to the left in the kitchen, opposite of the cooler and began eating the piece while she was standing, observing the nature outside of the house and the road up to the mansion.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2016 17:44:18 GMT 2
SEARCHING IN THE DARKNESS WE ARE CREATURES OF THE NIGHT RUNNING FROM THE DAY 30th of January was a long night for the Bianchi. Or one Bianchi in particular. Theresa Bianchi had pulled an all night, not usual for her, to try and do some research on the CPD. They had slowly, but surely pulling themselves together. Theresa wasn't exactly one for underestimating her enemy, but the Chicago police department had been in the Bianchi's back pocket for years. Even before her time, the dirty cops bent to the will of the crime family. Still, Theresa agonized over the blueprints of the police precinct and a roster of officers pulled up on her computer. It was that time of year where the police department hired a bunch of new recruits straight out of the police program at the university. Theresa had looked over their young face over and over again. Trying to imagine those who would be willing to take a bribe or bend to blackmail. Or those young face laying dead in the streets. "Such a waste of talent." She mutter to herself under her breath. She picked up her coffee mug, took a sip, and grimaced. Cold. How long had she been sitting here? Hell, what time was it? Squinting at the clock on her computer, Theresa winced at the early time. So much for trying to fit in a few hours of sleep. Picking up her coffee mug, Theresa padded out of her dark room and into the sunlit hallway of the Bianchi mansion. She took a second to wince against the bright lights before sleepily making her way toward the kitchen. Her thoughts were still consumed by the CPD when she turned the corner into the kitchen. Her eyes instantly were drawn to the figure of Valeria standing in front of the window. An involuntary smile spread across her face at the sight. Her eyes flickered to the cake on the kitchen counter and her grin widened. Theresa carelessly threw her mug into the sink and skipped up to her cousin-in-law with a rare, careless grin. She hugged Valeria from behind, throwing her arms around her shoulders and press a kiss to her cheek. "Tanti auguri a te, tanti auguri a te, tanti auguri a Valeria, tanti aurguri a te!" Theresa sang loudly, her voice filling up the empty kitchen. "Buon compleanno, cousin." She said tenderly, fondness filling her tone. She squeezed Valeria's shoulder's comfortingly. She knew that Valeria had a hard time adjusting to her new settings. In an odd way, Theresa knew better than anyone what she was going through. Theresa had lived in Rome for the first eight years of her life before coming to Chicago. The Bianchi mansion was not the most welcome of places. She frowned to herself. Note to self, redecorate the mansion. Since being crowned the head of the Bianchi, Theresa hadn't done much with the mansion. Her attention had been fixated on the Bianchi organization itself, not the castle where they resided. But now that she thought about it, the mansion was the Bianchi stronghold. If she wanted to truly rework the whole Bianchi family, then it was imperative that she changed their home base as well. The mansion was a reflection of herself and the rest of the family. It was filled with numerous priceless artifacts to show off the family wealth. Overall, the mansion had a powerful but impersonal feel to it. More like a museum than a home. Theresa had plans to change that. Tagged;; Valeria Bianchi Outfit;; xWords;; 574 Notes;; That was Theresa singing happy birthday.   |
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Bianchi
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Jul 13, 2016 22:37:38 GMT 2
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Post by Bishop Damian on Jan 30, 2016 20:21:45 GMT 2
The sun rises, shines through windows and curtains, bringing a disagreeing sneer to some, or a wide smile to others. People get out of bed slowly and get to work. But Bishop couldn't care less. He was already up since 6 am, doing push ups, cruches and lifting weights in his own room. That was how most of his mornings looked like in his room. He had been expecting someone to come through his door to ask of him to do a specific job that fit in his field of work, but so far, no one came. He didn't always have something to do, but he preferred it when he didn't get bored. Usually when he gets bored, someone gets hurt. Usually it falls on a maid or a gardener, poor souls who asked nothing but just happened to be passing by a bored Damian.
He lifted himself from the nice carpet covering his floor, done with his push ups for now and intending to get something to eat since it appeared his morning would be uneventful. He took the time to get dressed, removing his sleeping clothing and putting on a simple pair of kakis and a white shirt. Pretty much his default attire. He walked out the room, walking in the hallways bare footed, seeing only two maids on his way downstairs. He expected to see more. Perhaps they were busy elsewhere for now, it didn't matter to him anyway until he needed their service. He arrived downstairs and made his way to the kitchen. Before he entered, he heard someone speak in Italian, and it made him grumble slightly in annoyance. It was like a song. Sounded like happy birthday quite frankly. He walked inside the kitchen, noticing first the mess on the counters, until he saw the two women. Valeria's familiar frame, and Theresa's unmistakable one."Morning Mam" he said, mostly directed at Theresa, and quite frankly trying to ignore Valeria. He noticed a small cake next to Val, with a piece of it on a plate. Could it be her birthday and she baked it with Theresa? Or did she bake it herself? Didn't matter, and Bishop didn't care. He wanted to cook some meat with eggs, but to his misfortune, some of the utensils he needed to do that were on the pile of dirty dishes.
After a moment of thought, he grumbled in an annoyed way before picking up the pile of dishes and setting it in the sink, opening the faucet of hot water to dash upon the plates, bowls, spoons and other things Valeria used to bake her cake. He remained silent, doing the dishes and ignoring the two women. He didn't like to do other's chores, but when it was to accomplish one of his own deeds, he felt no need in not doing it. He hoped the two women would just leave the kitchen and not attempt to bother him further.
We need to stop The whole Kitchen thing |
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Bianchi
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Jul 3, 2016 9:22:59 GMT 2
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Post by Valeria Bianchi on Jan 31, 2016 3:20:55 GMT 2
The familiar taste of the cake filled Valeria mouth, and for a second she almost believed herself to be in some kind of paradise. (Looking apart from the mess on the kitchen counter) The cake, her mind and the beautiful view from outside. The sun was shining through the threes that was starting to grow leaves, and the lack of people in the gardens. It was peaceful.
Not many moments later a 'clirr' from the sink caught her attention, she didn't turn her whole frame, but enough to see that Theresa approached her from behind, giving her a hug and a soft kiss on the cheek. Valeria was glad to see her and as she opened her lips to greet her Theresa began to sing the all too familiar song. This made surprised Val positivly, and she chuckled with raised brows. "Grazie Theresa!" Val thanked happily and quickly placed her plate in the window, so that she could open her arms to give Theresa a hug. Theresa's voice had filled the whole room, and it had given her own mood a boost.
Valeria didn't know how she should react. She appreaciated the attention on her own birthday, but she never expected people to sing, and she did rarely know how to answer such a gesture. "Thanks for the song! Volete un pezzo?(Do you want a piece?)" She asked thereafter and gestured towards the italian cake on the counter. Hopefully her cousin in law would enjoy the cake as much as herself. As she did she noticed that a familiar figure had entered the kitchen. Valeria's smile faded a little for a moment, but moved her gaze back to the cake when he greeted Theresa. He didn't seem to take notice of her, which she understood looking at the circumstances. She didn't have a need herself to confront the man again.
However curious as she was she would cst a glance every know and then at Bishop while she talked to(waited for) Theresa. Valeria was surprised to see that the broad shouldered man, that was to stubborn to clean after himself only a week earlier, now took initiative and started to clean Valeria's dishes. She hadn't had the chance to do them after she baked the cake. She usually cleaned while she waited for the cake to cool, or simply piece after piece while she cooked. But this morning she hadn't.
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