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Post by Bishop Damian on Jan 3, 2016 1:23:21 GMT 2
Body in the
The woman and her Italian words were, truly, annoying. What was she trying to accomplish by using them? Hope that he won't understand a thing and let it slide? Try to assert some sort of dominance over him because she could speak Italian, which proved she could claim she was a true Bianchi? All the Bianchi did the same thing, use their oh so glorified Italian every time they could or wanted, as if to remind the world who they were. It was ridiculous and useless. The kitchen had fallen quiet after the woman spoke, clearly not willing to simply take the mop and shut up about it. The man let the mop fall into the bucket of water, splashing some of it on the floor once more. There were a few ways to go about this. He could cowardly walk away and get on with his own business, like take a shower, sleep a little more before getting up to find find his next victim. Or he could be the cold and un-moving man he was and remain there like Valeria wasn't even there, complaining. People always came to clean after his mess, he wasn't worried one bit about the mess he left behind him, he never was and it wasn't going to be today that his worry would start.
Of course Valeria wasn't simply going to agree to what he was giving her to do. She was stubborn and believed he had no right to give her orders, that was surely what she thought. Behind those innocent blue eyes, there was a woman with some steel. Or perhaps she was just plain stupid, who knew. And despite the fact that Bishop wasn't allowed to touch her, hurt her or do anything without her consent, the man was truly starting to boil at the sight of that hot headed woman. He wished he could shut her up straight, get her to just go away or do what he gave her to do. He couldn't unleash any steam against her, a shame and a source of frustration he will not hesitate to direct at something or somebody else. He took a step forward towards the 'lady', looking at her face with the wish of squeezing that pretty face between his fingers, to feel the flesh move until he could see it become red then blue. But he did nothing, simply looking while one of his hands reached for the mop. He wasn't going to comply to her orders, but it seemed like she had something against a dirty mess. Maybe she was OCD? That would be so great, so he could get back at her everyday by making her life a living hell with details no one but her would see. Ideas were nice, but acting was better, and he soon couldn't hold back kicking the bucket along with the mop inside against the nearest wall. Again, a mess someone else will have to clean up.
He reached in his back pocket to get out a thick black cigar from a thin metal box. He bit the slimmer part off and spat it somewhere before fetching a lighter from his other pocket. A nice smoke right now would be welcome. He lit it calmly, sucking on the cigar as puffs of smoke slowly escaped his nose. Once lit, he took the time to take a long sip before exhaling it all, looking at Valeria with a cold glare. Some had called Bishop a misogynist in the past, and because of some of his actions, he couldn't truly deny that trait. However he could recognize a woman's superiority when it was there, obvious and standing in front of him. But Valeria Bianchi had no strength to him, nothing in her inspired him to obey her orders or her whinny words. With a spiteful tone he replied to her Italian words with a nice Australian accent he had nearly erased from his vocabulary. "If you aren't happy with the mess, clean it yourself. The Bianchi have maids for cleaning and princesses to lay in bed and beg for attention." he started to walk away, with the intention of leaving the kitchen to head to the gardens and get some fresh air. Ironic, given he was polluting his lungs with tabaco.
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MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 31, 2015 18:43:39 GMT 2
Breakout or There was a roll of toilet paper in the cell, and after looking down the hallway, Bishop went back into the cell to roll his hand into the entirety of toilet paper to absorb most of the dripping blood from his hand. He wished he could close his hand, but the pain was there, there was no denying it. He could only hide it and act as if it wasn't there. He took the gun in his right hand, ready to go out again. The assassin was no longer on the floor, nor was he in sight. Gone. Bishop wondered if he had fled because of his wounded and bleeding side, but he couldn't spend too much time on discussing what decisions another man took. He needed to deal about his own troubles first. Maybe later when he was back at the mansion could he have a fun time guessing where the hell that rat went.
The man hurried down the alleys, ignoring the stupid questions Genan kept asking about the corpses on the ground and how Bishop was expecting to get out of the prison. The path previously cleared out by Bishop was pretty easy to simply walk down until they got out in the open. The guards in the towers Bishop couldn't take care of were on alert of course now. There wasn't going to be much time before the first bodies were discovered and some reinforcements came around the corner. He dragged Genan with him until he reached the front gate, where he came from. He was paying attention to details, movement around him to make sure some cop or guard wasn't going to come out of some place like a jack in the box. He was supposed to get to the nearest highway, which was about a ten minute walk from the prison. Then there would be a car there waiting for him and Genan to take off. There was a plan B: Calling the Bianchi for help. But that was an option Bishop hated and would rather not have to even consider.
However there was always something that could go wrong right? Something that could come and ruin your day, your mission, your night. The front gate's door was blocked off by two desks. What was this? An attempt at stopping them from getting out? Bishop looked around, trying to spot the son of a bitch that could be responsible for this. There was no time to lose, he had to get those things all out of the way as fast as possible to get going. He used his sole hand to attempt to drag away the desks, pointing his gun at Genan in a threatening way to get some help from him. Better get the job done quickly.
COFFEE |
MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 28, 2015 13:19:44 GMT 2
Breakout or The attempted blow to the man's face didn't succeed, missed the target and now they were back to words for defense. It was ridiculous, offending, a crappy night with a job ruined and Bishop's patience was slowly coming to an end. The assassin in front of him was yelling more, exhaling the fact that he was here to kill the guards. What an idiot, trying to save himself with lies. Bishop works alone, and if he doesn't people usually have the decency to tell him he has one or more partners as a burden. He wasn't believing the man one bit. If it were to be true, that the man would have indeed been his partner for the mission, then they would have received two very different orders. One was ordered to kill, and the other not to. Contradictory wasn't it? What a petty liar, he should work on that.
Bishop looked at the man with a frown, bringing his wounded hand to his kevlar protected chest. He needed to finish his mission, time was fleeting and the guards could be coming over here any moment now. He probably could kill them all now without worrying to stain his contract, but his principles were to go to the end of his employer's will without any twists to the rules. It was like a game, a very simple one with only a few rules you shouldn't break. For a moment he wondered if killing the man before him would count as breaking a rule or not. One thing was certain, it's that it will waste time, especially if the man doesn't calmly comply and shake death's hand without making a scene out of it.
So obeying to the rule of time, the Bianchi walked away from the man, heading to the cell with Genan inside. He used his tool again, remembering now that he did kill someone on his mission. No one of importance, no guard. The door flung open, and Genan seemed to be waiting only for that to happen. "No! You're not taking me with you!" Genan scattered to the back of the cell, seemingly resolved not to follow the Bianchi. Bishop had been warned about that, and quite honestly he could understand the man's fear, but it was an annoyance he didn't want to deal with right now. He walked to the Bianchi rich family member and grabbed him by the collar. "You follow me or die here." clearly enough Genan didn't want to die, and with a complying look on his face he agreed to follow Bishop. The Bianchi came out of the cell, keeping his prize behind him as he looked down the hallways.
COFFEE |
MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 27, 2015 15:17:53 GMT 2
Breakout or The man in front of him wasn't some inexperienced person, and honestly if he could, Bishop would have let him go for the sake of fair play, but right now he was working for the Bianchi family, not for himself. The mission needed to be done the way it was asked, and the death of all those guards was already jeopardizing partly his mission. Should he just let this man do whatever he was here for, or find a way to get him out of his way. A complicated decision that will require him to chose very quickly. If he left the man do whatever it was he needed to do, which might be kill Genan. If that happened Bishop will have to explain why the mission failed completely to his boss and risk getting fired. His thinking was interrupted by the man's next move, which was pushing Damian away by the power of his own weight. He took his weight back in order quickly before hearing the man scream out some words.
Ah so that's you're strategy now, trying to incriminate the Bianchi to whomever may hear it. How did he know Bishop was a Bianchi however? He didn't wear anything that could show who he was and even so, Bishop was invisible, a ghost no one knew about except a few Bianchi members. He had no papers, no identity, no family to trace back to. A piece of data lost in the cyberspace. He was a tool for others, something you pass from hand to hand that has no other purpose than to serve its given task. Bishop attempted to drop his palm onto the man's left ear, using his right hand, the one that wasn't shot and bleeding. If a hit like that succeeds, the man will feel like some C4 just blew up a meter from him. "Just fucking tell me why you're here and maybe, just MAYBE, we can talk this through." a fair warning he believed, between bloody workers it's best to set the rules when you can.
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MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 27, 2015 14:06:01 GMT 2
Body in the
The woman's reaction to everything was...interesting. He would have expected anyone perfectly normal to put a hand in front of their mouth and find themselves speechless. Not with this Bianchi. Nope, that one didn't even seem to be that bothered by the body in the cooler, the man soaked in water and his own blood. The hot water had been steaming slightly for the past few minutes, mostly off of the man, but now it had started to crystallize on his clothes. That cooler was obviously a little too cold for food to simply stay fresh. Much like Bishop himself, the woman's priority wasn't to complain about the half dead man on the floor, but for some other first world problem, like how the cooler was too cold for the vegetables. Stains, blood stains on the floor and on Bishop's clothes, that's what Valeria seemed to be worried about. What was she, some sort of over the top maid with an obsession for cleaning?! Bishop looked at her with a slight frown as she started yelling at him in Italian. So she's that type of woman, the type that lets her original tongue take over when she was too high on emotions. All those Italians and their speaking, always need to rub their language in your face when you least want it. Lucky for Bishop, he had taken the time to learn some Italian on his side. He wouldn't be able to understand everything, but he was able to understand the global sentence of the woman's sentences. She was so tiny and delicate, it surprised him that she wasn't closing her mouth more and was ready to stand up to him for something as ridiculous as blood stained floors. It'll wash off in one sweep of a mop woman.
As in her last sentence she asked him why he brought his job here, Bishop caught out of the corner of his eye that the masked man was slowly slipping away. He would take long strides in his direction, grab him by the collar of his clothes and raise him over the floor to drop a heavy punch in his masked face. That's what Bishop would have done if he had something against Jacob Pierce, but none of it happened, because there were no orders placed yet. So he ignored the departure of the man to keep looking at Valeria, sentencing in his head a few Italian words to answer her. "Chiudi la bocca donna fastidiosi!" (shut your mouth pesky woman) since she didn't seem like she was ready to simply leave or start making her eggs quietly, Bishop took out his phone to call a few men that were usually in charge of cleaning up his mess and returning that idiot of a beat up man to his employer. Those men did not fret away from the job, getting there in no time to retrieve the man from the cooler after Bishop indicated him to them. They were gone in two minutes. The floors were still stained however, it wasn't their job to clean that up.
As soon as they were gone he walked back into the cooler and came out with a bucket and a mop. He silently filled the bucket with some hot water, adding some simple dish soap inti it before removing the bucket from under the faucet. He dropped the bucket at Valeria's feet, water splattering around its container, making the floor slippery and starting to soften the edges of the dried out blood shoe marks on the floor. The large man then took the mop and handed it over to Valeria. Was Bishop thinking too highly of himself to think he could order around a Bianchi family member? No, he was angry and this was his way of pacifying.
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MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 25, 2015 16:43:08 GMT 2
Breakout or Bishop was satisfied with his strategy. The man couldn't do much, except throw a corpse back at his aggressor. Which failed rather quickly. It wasn't hard to push the moving corpse from the way as it flew towards him. Bishop was a large man with broad muscles. It wasn't to impress, it actually served a purpose. His left shooting hand was of very little usage now that there was literally a hole in it. It hurt yes, Bishop wasn't some sort of terminator who felt no pain, but he was able to block said pain for the purpose of getting the mission done. He truly wanted to kill the man in front of him for interrupting his job. Everything was going according to his plan until this guy appeared. It didn't matter anymore, Bishop needed to know who he was and quickly decide if he had to die or not.
The Bianchi body guard saw the assassin slip his guns into his clothing but took no acts against it. If it would be fatal to him later, he had no clue, but right now it wasn't his first priority. With his healthy right hand he grabbed the man by the collar of his top and would attempt to hit him against the nearest wall, hard enough to catch his attention but softly enough to keep him from getting any broken bones. That didn't mean the man couldn't get a rib fracture or a few bruises from impact. He looked straight at him, his own eyes showing how deeply angry he was about the situation. "I don't like wasting my time so just tell me why you are here." he asked, a strong yet low voice so that he won't indicate their precise position to any guards near. They might already be looking for them, so no need to give them a precise track to follow.
COFFEE |
MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 24, 2015 17:35:57 GMT 2
Breakout or
The bullet went right through the man's hip, which meant good news for Bishop. He had expected the man to fall flat and give more attention to the bullet, but to Bishop's surprise he was facing a trained assassin who probably had experience. His initial plans were shattered and he had to reply with a quick reaction. He took cover behind the nearest wall, the sound of the guns waking up the rest of the captives. Not surprising, they were probably all trained to hear such a thing and react to it. Plus who stays asleep when there is a gunfight? An old lady maybe, but not the people in this prison. The idiot assassin removed his silencers, allowing his guns to go full power on the sounds. How long before the guards that were still awake or alive came to get here? Much experience or an idiot with a survival instinct? That was what Bishop wondered right now about the identity of the man.
He came out of his cover three times to shoot, each time only once, aiming at where the man was. However when he came out on the fourth time, a bullet shot right through his hand. All those small bones inside will need an operation to fully heal and permit the man to use it again like he used to. He went back into cover, a nervous chuckle on his lips until he caught control of his speeding breath, slowing it down quickly. He stuck the gun into his belt and looked at his hand with a slightly impressed look. Whoever was that man, he was a good shot. Bishop was the kind to be unable to forgive very easily, and could lose his temper fast. However he knew when a situation wasn't in his favor. He looked at the cell next to him, inside which a man was sitting, looking at him with a very interested look. Bishop looked back, thinking, letting time flow slowly while wrapping a tissue around his hand. Won't help much but at least it should keep it okay for the next thirty minutes before he needed to find an alternative solution. He had a device with him to open doors, a handy device when you had to get a fugitive out of a prison cell. He opened the cell next to him and grabbed the man inside it.
The man tried to get away but with a shot in his head, it was easier to carry him. With one hand, Bishop hauled him at the level of his face like some sort of shield and came out of cover. He was already wearing a bullet proof vest so if the assassin decided to shoot at the corpse, it won't get anywhere near Bishop's flesh. Walking with increasing speed, Damian soon was close enough to the man to throw the corpse at him and then try to catch him by the collar, kicking away any guns or weapons if he could.
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 24, 2015 12:45:50 GMT 2
Body in the
Valeria, he believed that was her name. The woman staying here while her husband was gone, god knows where. Such an innocent sheep laying and living calmly between the tigers and sharks of the Bianchi family. She had ties with them by family marriage, or so he understood. It surprised him deeply that she would even want to be here. Did her mind even comprehend what the Bianchi did most of the time? It was probably too late for her now anyway, she had signed an invisible contract, a contract to the devil called Bianchi that will track you down and bring you to hell if you do not do as said or attempt to run away. Poor sheep, taken its freedom when there was so much to do when you had power and money.
A job that required having his hands stained in blood. He wasn't the house butcher, or at least not the conventional one. He was the backstage, doing the dirty job no one else wanted and getting his hands dirty for any reason the Bianchi gave him. But she didn't have to know that, no one asked of him to tell her everything he was or what he did. Though he could see she could possibly be the curious type. Curiosity gets you killed most of the time. The gas mask man wanted to scatter away, leave the place like he probably should have at first instead of letting 'curiosity' drag him forward. At least he wasn't a complete idiot and probably knew Bishop couldn't do anything to him now. No orders, no blood spilled. He didn't see the man's eyes behind the mask, but he could feel her was receiving an interesting look from the mercenary. He shot him one last cold glare before erasing him completely from his sight, turning his full attention on Valeria. He could leave, it won't matter because he'll come back.
Hungry little bird, hopping around the kitchen to fetch something to fill her small stomach. Bishop did not move from the front of the cooler, his arms crossed as she moved from place to place, looking for something. Soon it was revealed that she wanted eggs, and she asked if any of the two knew where they were, Bishop's mouth remained cold shut. It wasn't his job to know where ingredients were. He wasn't the house butcher, that didn't change in the few minutes span. But now she wanted to get inside the cooler to look for some stupid eggs. He looked at her as she came closer, but the masked man was already trying to keep her innocence. Honestly, Bishop was no one to forbid her to see a passed out man in a cooler, and he didn't receive any orders that this was something that had to remain a secret. So he shot yet another glare at the masked man before simply opening the cooler and going inside himself. It was opened large enough to see the body of a man moving slightly and grunting on a wet, blood stained floor. Bishop sent him a kick in the face to send him back to sleep on his way to the shelves with all the food.
The man came out a minute later with four eggs in his large hands. He shut the cooler door behind him with a kick of his foot, the metal rattling on the rims of the frame as it collided. He took a pan from one of the hangers and just sat the three eggs inside it before letting the pan on the counter, all four eggs unharmed. "Have a nice breakfast." he walked back to the counter closest to the door and leaned against it, letting bloody footprints on the floor as he did. He crossed his arms and looked at the woman, wondering if she would dare ask for anything else from the cooler, or if she even saw what was inside. Didn't matter much, but it would be nice to know what kind of guts this woman was made of for future reference.
COOLER |
MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 23, 2015 16:23:04 GMT 2
Breakout or
As he was overriding all the systems and ready to disable the camera system, his attention was caught by a man who seemed to be doing everything Bishop was asked not to do. Damian frowned and looked closely, trying to recognize the assassin working his way inside the prison like some sort of captain america saving the day, or more like ruining the last one of more than a few guards. After a while of observing, Bishop disabled the security cameras, but didn't erase the past few minutes where he didn't appear, but the stranger did. He had no idea who was that man, but he was stepping on his field of work, dirtying his path and interfering with the plan. It didn't matter who that man was. He was simply in the wrong place in the wrong moment dealing with the wrong person. Yes you have a tomahawk little Indian, do you know what Americans did to your kind?
Bishop exit the security room and stormed down to the cell area, taking out his silencer, ready to fire. He had time to decide if he had to try to speak with the man or not. Or not, that was the answer. Little fucker shouldn't walk on his lawn when he's working it. Walking by the bloody floors past the corpses, he soon reached the area where he last saw the man. He noticed a guard's head rolling on the floor, which he kicked aside without second thoughts like it was a soccer ball.
On his way he tried to think of reasons that could explain the man's presence. Who he was, where did he come from, who he worked for. All those questions will have to be answered quickly. It stroke him clean, that there could be someone else breaking into the prison at exactly the same time as he. The answer to that could be that the man came for the Bianchi as well. Or that he had a quarrel with the Bianchi family and was seeking to put sticks in their wheels by interfering with tonight's plans. Either way he was here now, and Bishop wasn't going to let him run away without answering a few questions.
He quickly got the man in sight and without any warning he shot towards the man's hip. Hopefully he'll touch him and impair his movements. If he did hit him then he would run in his direction and bash himself into him to send him to the floor. If he missed he would try a second time and take cover if the man took one of his firearms to shoot at him.
COFFEE |
MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 23, 2015 13:37:48 GMT 2
Breakout or
It was late at night, or rather very early in the morning. The moment where people are either deep asleep, or trying to stay awake by all means necessary. It wasn't very common for someone to easily break into a prison. But for Bishop, he just knew his way around too well for it to be a true challenge. He was waiting for the day he'll be asked to infiltrate something bigger, something that would simply be more interesting and less mundane. Three days ago the Bianchi asked of him to recover one of their important members from the prison. Quite frankly, Bishop didn't think they wanted him back because he was a nice guy. Alfredo Genan, his name was. Stupidly Italian if you asked the Australian. Genan was an important asset because of his family ties, everything he had in his pockets was valuable to the Bianchi and they couldn't afford to have him dead or useless, rotting in prison. Why was he in prison you may ask? Well to put it simply he got caught at the bombing site of what remained of the Chicago PD and couldn't be intelligent enough to lie himself through the law.
So now he was in prison and Bishop had to get him back. Blasted Bianchi and their assets. Also he wasn't allowed to kill anyone. Nice. So instead he had to wrestle his way through, choking people and making sure their pulse was still there after crushing their trachea. He had already passed the front gate and moved silently against the walls to avoid being spotted by those he didn't send to sleep, yet. Those who were already asleep were left in credible positions, sitting in chairs, leaning against a car. Bishop had become quite good at making the unconscious still look conscious. He only brought one silent gun along with him and a taser. Ridiculous and time wasting in his opinion, but he understood perfectly why the Bianchi didn't want any blood on their hands from the Chicago prison. If he were to kill anyone, not only Chicago would know, but the entire world. It wasn't a risk the family was willing to take for this Genan.
Bishop arrived inside the walls where several cameras and people were guarding the place. He made his way to the security room, knowing he had to disable the cameras and erase the last hour by precaution. He entered the room, and the two guys sitting there sipping on coffee just had time to get up before coffee flew into their faces. Bishop took the coffee cup from the closest man's hand, using it to knock him out with it, spilling it's content on the second man before sending him to the floor in one clean right punch. He moved them both into their chairs, readjusting his clothes and running a hand through his blue hair before getting to work on erasing data and disabling the cameras.
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MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0 [/quote] |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 22, 2015 1:26:39 GMT 2
More work indeed for Bishop if there were people to disobey to their boss. Working with the Bianchi gave him a lot of work, more than he had ever hoped for. Wasn't it nice to never have to worry about money? He wondered if he wasn't one of those members who won the most money for doing the dirty jobs no one wanted to do. And he wasn't talking about cleaning up the blood, but more being the one to stain the floors for the good cause while the others discretely covered their faces. He guessed the masked man was one of those people who liked to live dangerously from time to time. It was a trend, really, to do those type of actions that required a lot of courage. It was a good reason to get admiration, but Bishop only watched those 'courageous' people and asked them seriously if it was truly worth it after he was done torturing them to remind their pesky little minds that courage rhymed with consequences. Showing courage was overrated. It was an idealistic conception Hollywood and story tellers love to shove into the bright light of life. Courage gets you killed most of the time. Intelligence is what makes the difference. Someone who acts because of an intelligent reasoning is the person who deserves the praise. The people acting by the impulsiveness of courage are the idiots crawling under the weight of their uncontrollable instincts.<p> He was going to answer the man's words, cut the chase and make him understand, solely with words for today, that he should stop trying to run, that he should wake up from his fantasies whatever they were and turn back to the only road he could safely trail on. However he got interrupted by a woman who seemed eager to interrupt their little discussion. That was Valeria, one of the Bianchi of the family. He wasn't asked by anyone to obey to her and listen to anything she has to say. He's just here to protect her from harm, so he can't truly hurt her despite the fact that he felt she needed to be dragged out by the hair since she interrupted them. He looked at her with the same severe look he usually had, letting his eyes trail from the woman to the merc, wondering if the man will use it as a stupid excuse to run away. But he didn't, and instead replied to Valeria. He even answered the question asked by the woman for him.<p> He looked at the two, crossing his arms and staying quiet. His hands were clean, but it would be interesting to see how the woman would react to the sight of blood on the man, unknowing where it came from. At some point he will have to tell someone that he was done with the man in the cooler and that they could send what was left of him back to his boss. "I'm doing my job Mam." he simply said, not believing that she needed more explanation. His tone was stiff and still, a trace of challenge lingered on his tongue however. He looked at the masked merc, his eyes stone cold and harsh, an authority in them that was aimed to make the man understand he wasn't done with him. |
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 21, 2015 17:46:42 GMT 2
The masked man seemed to catch the undertone in Bishop's words. That was way more than the man could possibly expect from the man. He didn't remember his name if it was ever mentioned somewhere. Probably he only heard it once and deemed it unnecessary to remember the name of someone who might die in the next minute. Interesting however, how it was nearly impossible to understand what the man was thinking because of his mask. A very clever idea, to wear such a mask to hide any change of expression. Maybe, just maybe, the face under it was subject to changing expression very easily, and that was the reason behind the mask's sole existence. So when the man understood what Bishop was truly talking about, the Bianchi's personal ticking clock could not see a thing.
He looked at the man with a raised brow, agreeing to what he just said about a certain type of idiot. Was he shooting his own self when he said so? Was he considering himself as an idiot because he protected a cop and another criminal by going against his own boss? It would be normal for one to think so, but it wouldn't be easy for said person to admit it. "It would indeed take a very special brand of stupid to walk against their own boss. Especially when they know they could be dead the next day by one order as simple as a glare in their direction." he did not move from his position, his shoes were stained in blood and surely he should take them off before walking anywhere else in the house. He wasn't going to be the one to clean the biggest part of the mess, the Bianchi had their own special brand of lemmings to do that. He didn't stop watching the masked merc. He won't ask anything about him to the Bianchi, guessing that if they wanted him dead or taught a lesson, he would be the first on their call list.
And here it was, fear finally showing the tip of its nose. The tone used by the merc was admirable, in the way that he was trying so hard not to show his fear, but overacting always shows. And he was backing away, leaving the cooler and walking back to the entrance of the kitchen. Bishop followed him in his steps, stopping at the entrance of the cooler to remove his shoes. He picked them up from the floor and closed the cooler door behind him. It only took a kick of his foot to push away the little brick stopping the door from shutting completely. He then moved, his eyes locked on the masked man as he reached the sink. Did he punish people often? Depended on what number you set the word often to. "Sometimes. People here are usually intelligent enough not to cross the Bianchi." he pointed at the cooler. "However you see that sometimes there are people who believe that they are untouchable. Those are the ones who need to be...reminded that they are only men." he washed only his hands, once again. He will go take a shower in a minute anyway.
He could see in the way the merc was standing next to the door that he was ready to get away. And quite honestly it wasn't a bad idea at all. Bishop wasn't to do anything without an order, but if he was pushed to do so, he could probably get away with breaking a few limbs belonging to a nosy rat.
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Bianchi
Danger Zone!
Sexuality
Bodyguard/Mercenary
Occupation
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5suns
Offline
Jul 13, 2016 22:37:38 GMT 2
GMT +1
Tag me @bishop
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 21, 2015 17:44:12 GMT 2
The masked man was being evasive regarding his question. Not surprising coming from someone who hides their face. However he felt like the man wasn't making the right decision. He wasn't telling him everything, letting to the large man the pleasure of guessing exactly what he meant. He looked straight at him, rising with the dirty rags filled with blood. "You do what the Bianchi tell you to. Turns out we have the same job. How interesting." Bishop was not amused despite a relaxed tone. However his town betrayed as well how much credibility he had for that man in front of him. He cocked his head to the side in curiosity. He had all the time in the world in front of him now until he got new orders from the Bianchi.
Bishop slowly folded the dirty rags, blood soaked so deep, drips fell onto the floor when he wasn't slow enough. He gathered slowly the information he might have overheard on Jacob's subject while he was around members of the Bianchi family. He had probably been working for the Bianchi for a longer amount of time than himself, loyal to the rich mafia for a while now. He was probably the quiet type of man since Bishop didn't hear rumors of him rattle the floors of the mansion, or the streets for that matter. He had heard someone complain about fainting loyalties of a certain mercenary. A masked one to be exact. Without jumping on any conclusions, Bishop was still able to connect some dots with different events which have happened over the past few weeks. No doubt this man was starting to be a special type of issue to the family.
But then it hit him. The gas mask was only one between many others. He didn't realize until now that a man with a very similar status had been of rather offensive trouble to his boss a few weeks ago. The man who stood up to the Bianchi running the family for now. Who stood up to protect what? An as good as dead woman and a crying cop? The reason why Shaun had decided to have those two under his control to do his bidding was still a mystery to Bishop, but the reason why that merc stood up for those same people was even more so. On his face he showed nothing of the realization he just experienced. He was just studying Jacob with his sharp eyes while folding the last bit of rag.
Maybe it was time to make that man understand where he stood now, in front of whom and with what power. Maybe he'll be clever enough to regain his 'precious' place in the Bianchi family while there was still time for him to do so. Redeem his image in front of the family. He didn't need to know however that Bishop had seen the last part of the dinner at the Trenchermen. That he was one of the men pointing guns at them, just for that night. "I more precisely work for the Bianchi as their own torturer. But I believe you've witnessed a little bit of that today." he showed the man on the floor, still out from the punch. "I take care of those who don't keep their contract, don't respect the rules, forget where their loyalties lie, who they have a deal with. I like to see myself as the alarm clock in the morning for those who decide to sleep in when there is work to be done." he threw the cloths in an empty bucket while still watching Jacob with piercing eyes. None of the two had presented themselves with their names, and Bishop didn't intend to.
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Bianchi
Danger Zone!
Sexuality
Bodyguard/Mercenary
Occupation
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5suns
Offline
Jul 13, 2016 22:37:38 GMT 2
GMT +1
Tag me @bishop
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 21, 2015 17:42:07 GMT 2
The man in the chair was not moving, barely breathing to be fair. Bishop untied him from the chair before tying his hands and feet together like some boar, just fallen to a hunter's bullet. He left him on the ground, slowly soaking on water while he noted how interested the masked man was. So he was for the violence of the backstage as well. Wasn't that surprising coming from a man wearing a mask if you thought about it. He shook his head and chuckled as Jacob asked about letting the man die in the cooler. "Sadly I cannot let him die." there was a pile of rags near the entrance, and Bishop took one of them and knelt next to the chair to slowly clean it up from any blood, using the water on the tiled floor to clean what wouldn't come off.
The victim on the floor had proven to be a little tougher than some other people Damian had interrogated, but just not tough enough. With Bishop, you either talk, or die in the slowest of ways. He will use up the last bits of energy you have in you to make you speak, turn your current condition against you. It was always fascinating to understand what your little trapped prey fears or expresses the most pain too. Theatrical torture wasn't excluded when it was needed. In other countries, Bishop had already been asked to 'perform', as they put it, a public interrogation. Depending on the person, some were being a relevant challenge, but Bishop usually got them to speak. He admired old traditional ways of making people speak, especially some old Nordic ones he had tested out on those who only needed to apologies before leaving this world.
He looked at Jacob when he finished cleaning the chair, wondering what exactly was his job in the Bianchi family. He did not often speak his own thoughts, when he did it was because he believed the answer was important and of some relevance to his own situation. He wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow he was asked to work with that gas masked man. And from what he was seeing and hearing from him, they might be able to get along. "Tell me, what is your place in here? What does the family need a man who hides his face for?" he picked up another clean rag and put it under his foot to sponge away some of the water and blood on the floor. He wasn't a maid, but he preferred to avoid accidents, like an important person slipping on the spoiled floor. The man had no obligation to answer him. Bishop obeyed to only a handful of people and he wanted to know if he should treat that man in front of him like his equal or like a subordinate that didn't deserve much attention. And mostly he wanted to know how important he was to the family, if something happened and he had to, disappear. Strange things to think about when you just met a person, but those questions were the ones Bishop was forced to ask himself and the concerned person. Who knows when someone can make him lose his temper and he might harm that same someone. Would be a shame if he accidentally hurt someone dear to the Bianchi.
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Bianchi
Danger Zone!
Sexuality
Bodyguard/Mercenary
Occupation
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5suns
Offline
Jul 13, 2016 22:37:38 GMT 2
GMT +1
Tag me @bishop
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Post by Bishop Damian on Dec 21, 2015 17:39:40 GMT 2
The word 'buddy' took Bishop rather by surprise and he lifted a brow at Jacob, as if asking him if he was seriously calling him that. The stranger never crossed Damian's path before, much less did he have a conversation with him. So the familiarity of the word buddy put him straight into the box of those whom Bishop finds irritating. But since they had just met, Bishop was ready to let that slide and keep the information in the back of his head. He made no mention of the casualty of the man's words and bit back into his meal. Did he believe he was a cannibal? Maybe, Bishop did not mind if he did, and couldn't care even less if the mercenary thought he was playing with him.
However he saw, from the corner of his eye, that the masked man's curiosity grew as he did not leave the kitchen like any sane person would. Bishop believed the man was used to the sight of blood and strange things happening in the Mansion since he did not fret away from him and the possibility that there might be a body hidden somewhere. He finished the sandwich and got up, remaining quiet until he reached the sink and left the plate at its bottom. He then turned around and leaned against the sink, crossing his bloody arms and watching Jacob with a glint of curiosity in his eyes. So many questions in one sentence, he looked like an exited little animal while his masters dangled a treat beneath his nose. Bishop hesitated, thinking without words and debating if he should tell that rodent man about what was in the cooler, or if he should simply shrug and wait for the man to get bored and walk away. He could also scare him no doubt, he was at least two heads taller than him if not more, and the masked man's frame was no match for his despite his decent built for a man of his size.
He pushed himself from the counter and with a finger, made Jacob understand to come to him. He then moved to the metal door's frame and unlocked it, moving the brick in the opening. Cold air escaped the improvised cell as the door opened halfway through. Bishop walked in without bothering to turn the heat up and looked at the man in the chair, who was shivering and shattering his teeth behind blue lips. Bishop observed him for a little bit before looking at Jacob and showing the tortured man with a hand. "You tell me if he's dead or not." the man wasn't dead, but he was in a rather bad situation. Bishop looked at him and crouched in front of his knees. "Still not going to talk are you?" the captive fret not, looking at his captor with sharp eyes and an anger that did not froze yet. Bishop left him some time, some time to repent and perhaps make a sage decision. Nothing came and he lost patience. Damian walked out of the cooler, acting as if Jacob wasn't even there anymore. He went to fetch a hose from under the sink and hooked it up to the spigot. The man came back into the cooler after opening the faucet with hot water, burning hot water.
"Do I need to repeat myself?" he asked the man in the chair. "Where are they taking the cargo next?" a simple question that would make the Bianchi family's life easier as soon as he got the answer. But the man was stubborn and loyal to his boss, not to his life apparently and decided to remain silent yet again. He didn't even have the guts to talk back at him, thought Bishop as he opened the hose, aiming for the man's feet first before rising slowly up. Well, not too slowly. Ever put your feet in ice cold water and left them there until you got used to the cold? And have you ever, after doing that, decided to sink them in hot water to get warm? If you did then you know by now that it burns like nothing else, and right now the man sitting on the chair was experiencing quite the pain. Even more so when the hot water reached his crotch. During the entire time the man yelled and cried, Bishop's expression remained straight. No enjoyment, no hatred, simple neutrality that perhaps was what made people hire him. Finally the crying man complied and gave Bishop the coordinates for the next cargo shipment. At that revelation, Bishop cut the hose without any hesitation and dropped it on the floor before taking one step to the man and sending him to sleep with one dry punch to the temple. The man rested his head on his shoulder, out cold, literally. "See, not that hard was it?" he asked the passed out body while wiping his wet hands on his white shirt. He looked at Jacob, his fist bloody before he went to turn the cooler's temperature back to normal.
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