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Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2016 21:30:34 GMT 2
SEARCHING IN THE DARKNESS WE ARE CREATURES OF THE NIGHT RUNNING FROM THE DAY Theresa was the kind of woman who got whatever she wanted. Perhaps that makes her bratty but being the most powerful woman in the city tends to make that happen. While Theresa was a greedy person, she was far from stupid. When she saw something she wanted, she would go to any lengths to get it. Thus the situation she was currently in. The Ivory Hotel was built by the first Bianchi and had belonged to the crime family ever since. It was the hot spot for any and all Bianchi family members and the most popular hotel in the whole city. Because it was under Bianchi control, it wasn't uncommon for the family to host parties in the hotel. Such as today. The party was announced last minute by the Bianchi heir and only the best of the best were invited. The socialites, businessmen, aristocrats, and all the rest of Chicago bigwigs were sent invitations. The whole city was abuzz with the news of a party. It wasn't often that Theresa Bianchi threw a party. She was known for being a workaholic with very little times for such things. But when she threw a party, it was always an exciting occasion. No one threw a party quite like Theresa. So here was Theresa, prowling around the Hotel's biggest party hall like a hunting big cat. The hotel employees scattered out of her way each time she got to close and scrambled around frantically to get the hall ready for the party. Everything had to be perfect if Theresa's plan was going to work. Yes, plan. Why would Theresa throw a last minute party if she didn't have some sort of ulterior motive? Tonight, she had her eye on a very special guest. A high class blubbering businessman by the name of Summers. He was the owner of a chain of successful restaurants across the city and had a huge gambling problem which put him in debt to the Bianchi family. But he wasn't Theresa's target for the night. No, that honor belonged to his bodyguard. One Damian Bishop. A man Theresa had had her eye on for several weeks now ever since she accidentally saw him in action. One glance was all it took for Theresa to know that she wanted him. She needed to have him. Now, after a few weeks of planning, he was within her grasp. The party, the guests, the fancy decorations. It was all just for him. After all, Theresa had to give off a good first impression, didn't she? With that thought, she smiled thinly and whirled off to get ready for the party. Later that night, Theresa strutted into the Ivory Hotel room with a mask of politeness set on her face and a stunning dress. She glanced around the room and smiled. Everything was perfect. Now, all she needed was the true guest of honor to tonight's party. Tagged;; Bishop DamianOutfit;; XWords;; xxx Notes;; Thus the beginning of a beautiful partnership.   |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Jan 30, 2016 22:48:12 GMT 2
Car rides are possibly some of the most boring things ever to be created by men. He sit in a restrained area without truly being able to move, and it doesn't even matter how comfortable the car was, in the end, you were still in a moving aquarium stuck with other people. And a limousine doesn't change that fact. And it even makes things worse because that means there are more people inside the car, and they can directly talk to each other. It would have been nice for Bishop to be able to look out the window and block out their discussions about many and none interesting topics. However he was to keep a close eye on one of the men in the limousine. The man he was employed to protect during this night for very specific reasons. A rich man by the name of Summers, who had ties with the Bianchi family. This wasn't the first time Bishop was asked to look after him, but more like the 5th time in two months. The man had a knack for going out in very loud and fancy parties, visiting Casinos and other places where he could spend and gain money by gambling. However the problem was right there: He lost more than he won. And since most of that money belonged to the Bianchi family, he was putting himself into very deep waters that will soon drown him. The Bianchi weren't known for being indulgent with their associates. Bishop had kept his mouth closed despite knowing the danger of the man's gambling habit, for as long as he was paid to protect him, he had a job and enough to sustain a healthy life. However today his employer, Mr Summers, had made a very disappointing and bad decision.
He had come to the decision not to pay Bishop before the job was done, in other words, the bodyguard wasn't going to get his paycheck until tonight was over and Summers was still alive. It was a very annoying decision that put the man in a rather bad mood, and he kept his mouth shut even more than usual. He spoke not for the entire car ride until they arrived at the elegant Ivory Hotel in Chicago. Hosted by the Bianchi themselves, the party was some entertainment for only the highest in society invited by the Bianchi Godmother. And Bishop knew that it could be an occasion to remind Mr Summers that he owned a great deal of money to the family. If Damian was that man, he wouldn't have gone to the party in the first place. Only an idiot would come empty handed to the Bianchi.
The car stopped and a man came to open the door for Summers and Bishop to get out, along with the other people inside. Who were they? It really didn't matter. He followed Summers like a shadow, dressed in an elegant black suit that still hid a silenced gun under a thin bulletproof vest. It was nearly invisible, but a trained eye would have no difficulty in seeing it. Inside the hotel, the people were loud, talking and laughing, seemingly having a good time. Bishop kept his sensed alert, keeping in mind that Summers may be living his last night and that the Bianchi may have decided he passed the payday limit. While his eyes trailed around the nicely decorated hotel, he almost instantly saw the one responsible for all this: Theresa Bianchi. And in a dress like that it was hard not to notice her. He didn't pay much more attention to her than to the most generic person in the hotel. To him, even the most forgettable person could be a threat, and until proven otherwise, every single person around him was a potential threat to his employer. Summers greeted almost all of those people in lengthy gestures and polite sentences that Bishop listened to with a third ear. All those mundane conversations about themselves bored him to the brim, but he listened to everything with care, knowing information is almost just as valuable as money itself.
Fire Meets Gasoline I'll be the Queen's dirty hands |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 31, 2016 2:42:25 GMT 2
SEARCHING IN THE DARKNESS WE ARE CREATURES OF THE NIGHT RUNNING FROM THE DAY Theresa spent her time prowling around around the dance hall, taking a few moments to relish in her own genius. The whole hall was illuminated by grand crystal chandeliers, giving the room a nice ambient glow. Theresa opted for a much more open room with as little clutter as possible. The whole hall was open and spacious, allowing guests to wander around without obstruction. There was a buffet table on one end of the hall and a cluster of tables on the opposite side for people to sit and rest. The far end of the hall was occupied by a whole orchestra playing ambient background music to the low buzz of voices. Just as Theresa pictured it. Theresa twirled around the hall in a flurry of grace and purpose. She was met by people at every turn, all wanting to talk to the host of the party. She spared them several minutes of her time before gliding on to the next group. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her target enter the room. His form was unmistakable even in this crowd. Theresa made a point of not even glancing in their direction and instead let Summers make his way towards her. It was unavoidable, an attention seeker like Summers wouldn't give up the opportunity to mooch up to her. All she had to do was sit back and let her prey come to her. And damn if that wasn't the most satisfying feeling in the world. Trying not to look smug, Theresa turned her attention back to her current conversation, all the while watching Bishop and Summers from the corner of her eye. Eventually Summers made his rounds slowly, slowly towards her. The anticipation inside Theresa was building but she kept a tight rein on her emotions. She just had to have patience then everything would work out just like she planned. With a deep, calming breath, Theresa took the last few steps to close the distance between Summers and herself; between Bishop and herself. She forced herself to greet Summers first, and not to glance, or worse, stare at Bishop. "Mr. Summers!" Theresa greeted with a smile with far too many teeth. "Good of you to come. I was almost worried you wouldn't make it." She purred, grasping the man's sweaty hand with a suppressed grimace of disgust. She could not wait to kill this man. Preferably with some help from Bishop. Wouldn't that be just beautiful? Forcing down her excitement, Theresa plowed on before Summers could say anything. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something. For business. Would you mind? It should only take a few minutes." Summers agreed eagerly. Theresa's smile became significantly more knife-like. "Excellent! If you would follow me boys." She allowed her eyes to flicker over Bishop before turning on her heels and leading Summer's out of the hall. Her high heels clicked ominously in the silence as she by passed a secure door with a number code. Once inside the room, Theresa waved her hand at a leader arm chair in the middle of the room. "Please, do sit Mr. Summers." She invited him with a disarmingly charming smile. "This may take a while."Tagged;; Bishop Damian Outfit;; XWords;; 536 Notes;; THERESA. STOP BEING SO THIRSTY. |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Jan 31, 2016 13:17:57 GMT 2
Those types of fancy nights, parties of the high class were the types of events Bishop may have partaken the most in. Indeed, the people hiring him were of high class, and they were the ones with money, the money needed to request his services. Granted, when you talk about it that way, Bishop appeared to be the kind of man who had eyes only for money and nothing else. Truth was, he couldn't care less about the green or gold or silver, but from the moment you own money, you don't need to worry about anything else. You see, Bishop hates worrying. It's a waste of time and energy you could spend to do other things. That may be why he is good at his job, because he's able to keep a cold blood even in the most complexe and stressful situation, like maybe his client about to get killed?
One thing was sure, the Bianchi didn't fret from making a memorable night in the mind of their guests. But the host was being ominous. She did what any good host would do, which is greet every single one of her most important guests, giving them a few minutes of her time to talk about things and nothing. Bishop's eyes had regularly come back to her for the simple reason was that he had seen her eyes flee in Summers' direction. Or so he believed. She kept the gesture discrete, but it wasn't the type of detail she could hope to hide to the bodyguard. People say that when you are observed, a sixth sense awakens to ask you to search for the thing or the person observing you. And to feed that impression, the Bianchi Godmother was slowly getting closer to Summers.
So it appeared Summers was her target for tonight. Surely she won't miss an occasion like this to remind the man who she was and why he should pay back his debts. Bishop suspected his employer didn't pay him yet because of all the money he lost in his last gamble. He was there when it happened and quite frankly he never wanted to rat out an idiot as much ever before. Face palming never had been a better way to describe how he felt at the point where he saw the man's hand in poker. So much money lost, it was alarming to know he worked for the Bianchi.
Sure enough, Theresa Bianchi finally reached them, her eyes focused on the frame of Summers and talking with a voice that betrayed other plans in the back of her head. The woman truly was, and purposely was, the golden crown of the event. Dressed as she was with her title looming over her head, no one could walk past her without noticing her. Bishop's ears listened, but his eyes kept fretting away, still keeping an eye on movement around. It was his job after all. And his thoughts were soon met with truth, when Theresa Bianchi invited Summers to retreat in a more private place for a business discussion. The poor fool agreed to it, and Bishop had no say in it, even if he may have let out a low annoyed grunt only he heard, when the Bianchi called them boys.
He followed his employer, just as he followed the Godmother through the hallways of the hotel, through a series of locked doors with codes. As hard as he tried, Bishop's mind couldn't pick up all the codes. There were too many missing numbers Theresa subtly pressed in the combination. They soon reached a room, away from all the noise of the party, away from all ears, and Bishop instantly felt a pressure on his skull diminish. The carpeted floor permitted him to walk soundlessly behind Summers until the man sat down in a chair. Summers had learned to ignore Bishop's presence, since his bodyguard rarely spoke and kept a quiet, almost stone like attitude next to him. Damian joined his hands bellow his belt, his legs slightly parted for equilibrium as he stood next to the chair, his upper body shifted so he could see both his employer and Theresa Bianchi in a simple twitch of his eyes. The woman's attitude was oddly charming, too charming to Bishop's taste. It hid bad intentions, and even if he didn't wish to judge a person he just saw for the first time, it was hard to be mistaken when you are talking to a powerful Mafia Leader to whom you owe money. This, will prove interesting.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2016 1:15:00 GMT 2
SEARCHING IN THE DARKNESS WE ARE CREATURES OF THE NIGHT RUNNING FROM THE DAY The moment Theresa approached Summers, she felt the weight of Bishop's gaze upon her. It was an almost physical sensation like fingernails down the back of her spine; sensual and just on the right side of painful. If Theresa was a person of lesser birth, she would have shuddered under the sensation but instead she just straightened her spine and locked away the feeling to examine later. Much much later, when she was alone in bed. Instead of dwelling on those thoughts, Theresa concentrated on Summers. He was certainly in for a treat tonight. But before she could get to the fun part of the evening, she had to find out where Bishop and Summers stood. It would be no good if she went in for the kill while Bishop still held some semblance of loyalty to Summer. She had to completely destroy the trust between the two before she made her move. All she had to do was pluck a few threads in her elaborate spider's web and the bond between bodyguard and employer would crumble into dust. Theresa's had to resist the urge to break into insane giggling. She loved it when a good plan came together seamlessly. It didn't take much to get Summer's to follow her into one of her back rooms. In fact, it was laughably easy. Not even the sound of disagreement from Bishop made Summer's hesitate. Theresa's eyes flashed towards Bishop's for a long moment before she gave him a sly smile that was more dangerous than it was soothing before whirling on her heels and leading Summers deeper and deeper into her web. The room that Theresa lead the men into was a huge contrast to the rest of the hotel. Where as the rest of the Ivory was the picture of comfort and extravagance, this room was similar to what Hollywood would call an interrogation room. A dank, concrete room with dim lights and single chair in the middle of the room. Summers, who was sitting in said chair, seemed to be quite at ease. For now. Like a shark circling its prey, Theresa paced the room in front of the two men. "I hope you're enjoying the party, Mr. Summers?" She asked pleasantly. The man nodded his head eagerly, his pig-like eyes following her hungrily. "Yes, yes! Wonderful party as usual Theresa." Her lips spread further into a smile to show off more of her perfect, white teeth. She had to hold back a sharp retort. How dare this filth use her first name so casually. Theresa channeled her distaste into calmly, keeping up her mask of politeness. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you. Now that we're alone." Summers leered at her. "About the money you've been lending me..." He trailed off momentarily. Theresa nodded encouragingly. "Oh yes! I recall." Of course she recalled. This leech had been using Bianchi money for gambling for months now. The fact that he fell into her plans for Bishop so beautifully only hastened his inevitable demise. Had Bishop not caught her eye all those weeks ago, Theresa was sure she would have killed Summers off eventually. One way or another. Adjusting her dress absently, she returned her attention to the conversation at hand. "Well, I missed my payment last month. B-but don't worry! I'm working on something to get my payment in on time. I just need some more time. I promise, I'll pay back everything I own with interest." Summers stuttered out, looking up at Theresa eagerly. Her eyes flashed triumphantly. "Oh really?" Theresa purred out, taking a step closer to Summers. "And how do you expect to do that? You sound like you're in quite the pickle there, Summers. First you don't make you're payments on time, now you're begging for an extension? My, my. You're asking for a lot. Makes me wonder how you can afford anything." Theresa's eyes purposefully flickered over to Bishop with a quirked eyebrow. She couldn't hide the flash of greed in her eyes when she looked at him. Tagged;; Bishop Damian Outfit;; XWords;; 703Notes;; Theresa so thirsty. |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Feb 10, 2016 18:05:13 GMT 2
Not very subtle was she? He thought the preying Bianchi godmother would have slowly immersed Summers into his punishment, but instead she already brought him in a less than welcoming room. A cold interrogation room by the looks of it. His eyes flicked at each corner of the room, searching for anything he should notice that could be a danger to his employer. Employer that didn't pay him yet. Bishop was still bitter about that, especially since he saw all that money be eaten away by his gambling. That pig was hungrier than any other client he's ever had, he didn't know what was holding him back to slaughter him right on the spot with his own belt. Maybe he should just become a nightclub bouncer again, that job paid pretty well, and he was free of dying his hair the color he wanted, punch the people he deemed too touchy or bold, get a few drinks at 5 in the morning when everyone was passed out. But the job was dull, it had no impact on the world, while working for more important people, who knows when you might change the face of the world by pushing them away from a bullet? As sad as it may be, the rich people of this world rule what is today and shape what tomorrow shall be. The Bianchi themselves are the sculptures of their Mafia family ancestors, shaped into better shapes each generation, and molding new heads to take upon the world in future years. The Mafia was known to have played a great roll in America's history, and it wasn't done yet.
His eyes moved back to Theresa as he finally finished inspecting the room. Now was the time to inspect the Bianchi Godmother. She may be dressed in elegant drapery, the dress revealing more than hiding should make it easy for the man to know if she was armed. As she moved around, he tried to catch an unusual fold among the others, a darker spot under the fabric, a weapon strapped to her leg, nothing. Instead he found himself searching for perhaps a little too long, his eyes raising up to the woman's to find the weapon he was looking for. It was all there, in those green eyes. The flames of malice, the plan unraveling slowly, the hungry eyes a predator had when a prey was defenseless before it. She smiled widely as Summers called her by her name, and the bodyguard help back a chuckle. He pried his eyes away to look at Summers who had no shame in keeping his eyes locked on the Bianchi's good family traits. In Bishop's eyes, amusement glinted as the situation went on.
And here came the money talk. Summers jumped right into it, and Theresa's looming shadow of power slowly grew larger. Bishop remained calm, perhaps a little too calm, observing the situation, and mostly Theresa's movements. He was also making sure Summers wouldn't do anything stupid, like, lets say: Attack the most important Bianchi member there was. Summers' death would come without warning or wait if he happened to do something as stupid as that. As the Bianchi Godmother started to state the situation more clearly for Summers' stupid mind, her tone grew menacing, clearly stating a threat. Bishop's contract forced to react as a warning, and he reached inside his suit to grab the gun carefully placed there. You could distinctly hear the click of the weapon's security being lifted while the man's hand remained in place. Theresa had lifted her eyes to him just at that same moment, being perhaps what froze him in that moment. He didn't move one bit, his eyes locked onto Theresa, waiting for her next move, ready to snap, or relax. An instrument's cord, waiting to be played or snapped.
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