Bloody Turf Wars [Prologue + 1/?]
Give them nothing... Take from them everything
“September 5, 2005
Dear journal,
We were told Nonnio Romulus had died late last night yesterday. The whole family has felt that loss all too well. I can tell Fratello Lovino was really upset, even though he won't show it. I guess he's stronger than me in a way. I'm still crying even now. Or maybe...Fratello isn't as strong as he seems. I don't know but...I think Antonio is probably comforting him when he's able to get into Fratello's room.
Oh, I hear Fratello and Sorella Vianca are arguing now. Sorella's telling him that he shouldn't take up Nonnino's position in the family as Boss because he's too young. She's telling him how at this age he should just be worring about getting a career, and not ...the family “business” kind. I kinda agree with her. Fratello shouldn't have to worry about the business. He's too young going into crime. Fratello is saying that the only reasons why she's saying that is because she believes he's not fit for it and that she doesn't want to have to follow him into the business. I think the last part was true. I kinda feel the same. We're family. We stick together. That means me and Sorella would follow Fratello into the business as well.
Oh no, they're both quiet now. That's probably not good. I think I better go and check.
- Feliciano Vargas”
Romulus "Rome" Vargas; he was a man that was able to conquer a vast amount of territory for the Vargas family. The Vargas Family was once a large group of Italians and Sicilians. Though during the last years of his reign, the number slowly decreased. After his death, the group dispersed, thus making the Vargas Family no more.
Newspapers would celebrate with headlines like, "Vargas Boss No More!" or "Italian Mob Dissolved!". Yet, the newspapers celebrated all too soon.
Roughly a year, after Rome's death and the death of the Vargas Family, his eldest grandson, Lovino "Romano" Vargas, pulled the mafia out from the ashes and brought it back to life with his siblings. Gathering a few old family friends and some of his own, the mafia soon took control of their land once again, all to show that he could be just as good as his grandfather.
At the raw age of nineteen, he was making trades and deals with other gangs in the area. He was always backed up by his younger siblings.
They were all in for a rough couple of years. They were inexperienced and had no idea how bad things could really get. They would very soon learn of the consequences that would follow.
________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 1
"Feliciano~!"
The bright light lit the almost empty room. It was a four-walled room, three of which were mostly covered in large glass windows. The walls were a light beige. They gleamed to a near canary colour with the partial setting of the sun. In the middle of the room sat a young man of nineteen at an easel. To his right, a small table filled with paints and some water. His slightly tan, slender hand ran a brush across the canvas in smooth strokes. The tell-tale curl, bobbing up and down as he hummed, identified him easily.
A girl, roughly two years older than him, stood in the doorway, watching silently. She was a pretty girl, not beautiful, but a little more then average. Her skin was a golden tan and her eyes, a brilliant green with hints of hazel. Her auburn hair, usually wild and wavy, was straightened and kept down. She raised a hand and knocked lightly on the wooden frame. The male stopped painting and turned to look at her with a smile.
“Ciao, Feliciano~,” she said in her usual flirty tone. “I'm sorry for interrupting you, but your fratello would like you to join him.”
Feliciano completely turned around in his backless chair and faced his tan sister. His expression seemed as though he was thinking for a moment. “Awwe, that's okay. He wants to go now?” He whined. She nodded. He pouted. “Fineee~, just....let me clean this up!” He turned to start closing all the paints.
The twenty-two year old female approached Feliciano to help clean. He smiled. “It's okay, Vianca, you don't have to help.”
“But Lovino will get annoyed.”
“Antonio will calm him down.”
“Ha! He'd probably piss him off even more because he'd side with us and not him.”
“Ahhh, fratello would.”
They chuckled and finished cleaning in seconds. Vianca stepped back and took a quick look at her brother. “You'll have to change,” she said bluntly.
“I know!”
“Okay, well, go quickly. I'm going to Lovi now.”
“Sì, sì, bella, and grazie for helping,” he said before kissing her lightly on both cheeks. He added before she left the room, “Remember not to call him that, he'll get mad!” The only response he got was a crackle of laughter.
Feliciano walked into the kitchen to meet his brother. The young man was dressed in a suit. It was a simple suit; black pants, a white dress shirt and a black jacket. He opted on a tie this time, believing it would be too much. He had washed his lightly tanned face of any evidence of the paints. His auburn hair was combed neatly and his amber eyes shown with bright curiosity.
His brother, Lovino, an Italian of twenty-two years, wore a similar suit; all black except the blood red dress shirt. A thin, gold necklace hung around his neck, glittering against his olive-skinned complexion. His hair was a few shades darker than his young brother's and his green eyes held meek sadness, but was disguised with annoyance. Standing close to him was Antonio.
Antonio was a tan Spaniard of twenty-four years. He wore similar clothes like the rest, except the jacket was left open and exposed the wrinkly green dress shirt underneath. He also wore a gold necklace, however this one held a small silver cross at the end. He wore a bright grin on his face, albeit his jade eyes showing anxiousness.
Lastly, there was Vianca. She simply wore a white dress and a platinum necklace with a cross around her neck. She stood at the centre counter arranging her third bouquet of flowers.
Each bouquet was a different colour and held all sort of flowers. The first contained all reds; geraniums, bougainvillea, roses, poppies and chrysanthemums. The second, whites; crocus, orchids, daises, jasmine, honeysuckles and lilies. The third, which she had just finished, were blues; alpine pansies, trumpet gentian, periwinkle, agapanthus, and irises. She now started the forth and finally bouquet, the oranges and yellows; columbines and tulips with buttercups and primrose.
Feliciano giggled at the sight before him. Lovino was leaning back on the counter to the sink while Antonio leaned closer to the elder Italian. Said Italian was growing a brighter red in the ears and face each time the Spaniard tried whispering him something. Everything was interrupted when Vianca noticed the still reddening Italian and teased him. Lovino, if possible, grew an even brighter red and started to yell her. All laughed at his expected out-lash.
Once Vianca had notice him, Feliciano waved excitedly at her. He complimented her work, “You did a wonderful job on the bouquets!” He turned to his brother, “So, we're the only ones going, fratello?”
Lovino crossed his arms and huffed. “Yeah, the rest of those damn assholes went during the day.”
“And Belle and Cecìlia?”
“Went in the morning, dammit.”
The younger Italian nodded. He stared at the flowers for a moment, then glanced outside at the dimming light, and finally back to his brother. “Ve~ We should leave now, si?”
His brother scowled at him, “Yeah, yeah, we're going.” He turned to his sister. “Done?”
She merely hummed with a smile. Antonio grabbed the red bouquet and hand it to the elder Italian. He then grabbed the blue one for himself. Vianca handed the white bouquet to her golden-eyed brother and kept the orange and yellow one close to herself.
The group left the kitchen in silence. None talked the rest of the way.
The usual sad and mourning atmosphere hung in the air of the cemetery. The three Italians and the Spaniard stood at grave of the Italian's deceased grandfather. The first to move was Lovino. He placed the crimson flowers on the grave, making sure to put a single chrysanthemum on top of the grave stone.
He sighed, “Stupid, old man, you better be having a good time up there.”
Feliciano placed his pale flowers onto the grave. He smiled and said, “Nonnino Roma is definitely having fun. He always does!”
Antonio and Vianca chuckled and placed the remaining flowers on the grave. Each of them said their condolences and stood in silence for another moment longer.
The silence has short lived, however.
“Ahh~ Is it that day again?”
The four turned around only to be faced with the whole German mob. The eldest, an albino, was at the front, most likely the owner of the voice. His white hair was a choppy, wild mess on his head with a fluffy, yellow chick resting on it. He had a cocky smile on his pale face and held an arrogant look in his blood red eyes. His expression really made Lovino want to punch him in the face.
“What do you want, bastard?”
The white haired man tsked and waved a finger. “Now is that any way to treat a fellow 'manager'?”
The Italian scowled. “What?”
“What I mean is, the old man kicked the can. You're working with me now.”
Lovino flared. “What?! Why haven't I been informed of this?” He turned towards his sister. “Have you-” She shook her head. He turned back around. “What's the meaning of this, Gilbert?” He said dangerously low.
Gilbert shrugged it off. “Been too busy with the funeral, is all. Didn't want to send Lili because, well, you know.”
“Oh, cut the bullshit. You could have sent us something. And let me guess, you didn't tell the others, did you?”
The German narrowed his eyes. “Cut me some slack, would ya? And maybe give me some respect too. We both are top heads here.”
The Italian snorted. “Yeah? Well, you should first start acting like it if you really want to call yourself that.”
The albino clenched his hands into fists. “What did you say?”
“Got shit in your ears, too? Then let me say this more clearly: You're an idiot and not cut out for this position. You act like a child. As much as I hate to say, your younger brother could do better. Hell, even Lili could and she's only 15.”
“Why you little brat!”
“Brat? Brat?! You're more of a brat than me!” The brunette yelled in the German's face. He felt someone place a hand on his shoulder. He quickly glanced and saw Antonio. Talking it as a warning, Lovino stopped.
Next >>
________________________________________________________________________________
Author Notes:
Alright, soo, ehh, this hopely will be my first completed fanfic when I'm done with it. I've actually got some sort of a plot to it finally. orz Yeah, if some of you actually like this fanfic, then if I don't come out with another chapter a couple days after, I suggest pestering me until I come out with another. I tend to do that or just drop the story before I actually finish it. ahahaa
Anyways, that very first line is a quote from Leonidas 1st, King of Sparta 17th in the Agiad Line.
Now, I hope you're noticed that Vianca is Vatican City/Papal States. She is raindiae and my OC. ^^;; You're probably wondering why she's like that. Well, frankly, the Vatican isn't ALL THAT PURE. Remember there's the Inquisitions, the church killed a lot. And to think, the way they use to pick the pope back then was just so WEIRD [and perverted]. XD That and, the age of consent in Vatican City is 12. That's lower than France and Spain's. LOL
Also, why a date for Rome's death? Cause I felt like it. xD September 4th is Romulus Augustulus ended his reign of the Western Roman Empire. He was the last emperor of the Western Roman Empire. You see where I was getting there? haha
Well, I hope you enjoyed. C:
“September 5, 2005
Dear journal,
We were told Nonnio Romulus had died late last night yesterday. The whole family has felt that loss all too well. I can tell Fratello Lovino was really upset, even though he won't show it. I guess he's stronger than me in a way. I'm still crying even now. Or maybe...Fratello isn't as strong as he seems. I don't know but...I think Antonio is probably comforting him when he's able to get into Fratello's room.
Oh, I hear Fratello and Sorella Vianca are arguing now. Sorella's telling him that he shouldn't take up Nonnino's position in the family as Boss because he's too young. She's telling him how at this age he should just be worring about getting a career, and not ...the family “business” kind. I kinda agree with her. Fratello shouldn't have to worry about the business. He's too young going into crime. Fratello is saying that the only reasons why she's saying that is because she believes he's not fit for it and that she doesn't want to have to follow him into the business. I think the last part was true. I kinda feel the same. We're family. We stick together. That means me and Sorella would follow Fratello into the business as well.
Oh no, they're both quiet now. That's probably not good. I think I better go and check.
- Feliciano Vargas”
Romulus "Rome" Vargas; he was a man that was able to conquer a vast amount of territory for the Vargas family. The Vargas Family was once a large group of Italians and Sicilians. Though during the last years of his reign, the number slowly decreased. After his death, the group dispersed, thus making the Vargas Family no more.
Newspapers would celebrate with headlines like, "Vargas Boss No More!" or "Italian Mob Dissolved!". Yet, the newspapers celebrated all too soon.
Roughly a year, after Rome's death and the death of the Vargas Family, his eldest grandson, Lovino "Romano" Vargas, pulled the mafia out from the ashes and brought it back to life with his siblings. Gathering a few old family friends and some of his own, the mafia soon took control of their land once again, all to show that he could be just as good as his grandfather.
At the raw age of nineteen, he was making trades and deals with other gangs in the area. He was always backed up by his younger siblings.
They were all in for a rough couple of years. They were inexperienced and had no idea how bad things could really get. They would very soon learn of the consequences that would follow.
________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 1
"Feliciano~!"
The bright light lit the almost empty room. It was a four-walled room, three of which were mostly covered in large glass windows. The walls were a light beige. They gleamed to a near canary colour with the partial setting of the sun. In the middle of the room sat a young man of nineteen at an easel. To his right, a small table filled with paints and some water. His slightly tan, slender hand ran a brush across the canvas in smooth strokes. The tell-tale curl, bobbing up and down as he hummed, identified him easily.
A girl, roughly two years older than him, stood in the doorway, watching silently. She was a pretty girl, not beautiful, but a little more then average. Her skin was a golden tan and her eyes, a brilliant green with hints of hazel. Her auburn hair, usually wild and wavy, was straightened and kept down. She raised a hand and knocked lightly on the wooden frame. The male stopped painting and turned to look at her with a smile.
“Ciao, Feliciano~,” she said in her usual flirty tone. “I'm sorry for interrupting you, but your fratello would like you to join him.”
Feliciano completely turned around in his backless chair and faced his tan sister. His expression seemed as though he was thinking for a moment. “Awwe, that's okay. He wants to go now?” He whined. She nodded. He pouted. “Fineee~, just....let me clean this up!” He turned to start closing all the paints.
The twenty-two year old female approached Feliciano to help clean. He smiled. “It's okay, Vianca, you don't have to help.”
“But Lovino will get annoyed.”
“Antonio will calm him down.”
“Ha! He'd probably piss him off even more because he'd side with us and not him.”
“Ahhh, fratello would.”
They chuckled and finished cleaning in seconds. Vianca stepped back and took a quick look at her brother. “You'll have to change,” she said bluntly.
“I know!”
“Okay, well, go quickly. I'm going to Lovi now.”
“Sì, sì, bella, and grazie for helping,” he said before kissing her lightly on both cheeks. He added before she left the room, “Remember not to call him that, he'll get mad!” The only response he got was a crackle of laughter.
Feliciano walked into the kitchen to meet his brother. The young man was dressed in a suit. It was a simple suit; black pants, a white dress shirt and a black jacket. He opted on a tie this time, believing it would be too much. He had washed his lightly tanned face of any evidence of the paints. His auburn hair was combed neatly and his amber eyes shown with bright curiosity.
His brother, Lovino, an Italian of twenty-two years, wore a similar suit; all black except the blood red dress shirt. A thin, gold necklace hung around his neck, glittering against his olive-skinned complexion. His hair was a few shades darker than his young brother's and his green eyes held meek sadness, but was disguised with annoyance. Standing close to him was Antonio.
Antonio was a tan Spaniard of twenty-four years. He wore similar clothes like the rest, except the jacket was left open and exposed the wrinkly green dress shirt underneath. He also wore a gold necklace, however this one held a small silver cross at the end. He wore a bright grin on his face, albeit his jade eyes showing anxiousness.
Lastly, there was Vianca. She simply wore a white dress and a platinum necklace with a cross around her neck. She stood at the centre counter arranging her third bouquet of flowers.
Each bouquet was a different colour and held all sort of flowers. The first contained all reds; geraniums, bougainvillea, roses, poppies and chrysanthemums. The second, whites; crocus, orchids, daises, jasmine, honeysuckles and lilies. The third, which she had just finished, were blues; alpine pansies, trumpet gentian, periwinkle, agapanthus, and irises. She now started the forth and finally bouquet, the oranges and yellows; columbines and tulips with buttercups and primrose.
Feliciano giggled at the sight before him. Lovino was leaning back on the counter to the sink while Antonio leaned closer to the elder Italian. Said Italian was growing a brighter red in the ears and face each time the Spaniard tried whispering him something. Everything was interrupted when Vianca noticed the still reddening Italian and teased him. Lovino, if possible, grew an even brighter red and started to yell her. All laughed at his expected out-lash.
Once Vianca had notice him, Feliciano waved excitedly at her. He complimented her work, “You did a wonderful job on the bouquets!” He turned to his brother, “So, we're the only ones going, fratello?”
Lovino crossed his arms and huffed. “Yeah, the rest of those damn assholes went during the day.”
“And Belle and Cecìlia?”
“Went in the morning, dammit.”
The younger Italian nodded. He stared at the flowers for a moment, then glanced outside at the dimming light, and finally back to his brother. “Ve~ We should leave now, si?”
His brother scowled at him, “Yeah, yeah, we're going.” He turned to his sister. “Done?”
She merely hummed with a smile. Antonio grabbed the red bouquet and hand it to the elder Italian. He then grabbed the blue one for himself. Vianca handed the white bouquet to her golden-eyed brother and kept the orange and yellow one close to herself.
The group left the kitchen in silence. None talked the rest of the way.
The usual sad and mourning atmosphere hung in the air of the cemetery. The three Italians and the Spaniard stood at grave of the Italian's deceased grandfather. The first to move was Lovino. He placed the crimson flowers on the grave, making sure to put a single chrysanthemum on top of the grave stone.
He sighed, “Stupid, old man, you better be having a good time up there.”
Feliciano placed his pale flowers onto the grave. He smiled and said, “Nonnino Roma is definitely having fun. He always does!”
Antonio and Vianca chuckled and placed the remaining flowers on the grave. Each of them said their condolences and stood in silence for another moment longer.
The silence has short lived, however.
“Ahh~ Is it that day again?”
The four turned around only to be faced with the whole German mob. The eldest, an albino, was at the front, most likely the owner of the voice. His white hair was a choppy, wild mess on his head with a fluffy, yellow chick resting on it. He had a cocky smile on his pale face and held an arrogant look in his blood red eyes. His expression really made Lovino want to punch him in the face.
“What do you want, bastard?”
The white haired man tsked and waved a finger. “Now is that any way to treat a fellow 'manager'?”
The Italian scowled. “What?”
“What I mean is, the old man kicked the can. You're working with me now.”
Lovino flared. “What?! Why haven't I been informed of this?” He turned towards his sister. “Have you-” She shook her head. He turned back around. “What's the meaning of this, Gilbert?” He said dangerously low.
Gilbert shrugged it off. “Been too busy with the funeral, is all. Didn't want to send Lili because, well, you know.”
“Oh, cut the bullshit. You could have sent us something. And let me guess, you didn't tell the others, did you?”
The German narrowed his eyes. “Cut me some slack, would ya? And maybe give me some respect too. We both are top heads here.”
The Italian snorted. “Yeah? Well, you should first start acting like it if you really want to call yourself that.”
The albino clenched his hands into fists. “What did you say?”
“Got shit in your ears, too? Then let me say this more clearly: You're an idiot and not cut out for this position. You act like a child. As much as I hate to say, your younger brother could do better. Hell, even Lili could and she's only 15.”
“Why you little brat!”
“Brat? Brat?! You're more of a brat than me!” The brunette yelled in the German's face. He felt someone place a hand on his shoulder. He quickly glanced and saw Antonio. Talking it as a warning, Lovino stopped.
Next >>
________________________________________________________________________________
Author Notes:
Alright, soo, ehh, this hopely will be my first completed fanfic when I'm done with it. I've actually got some sort of a plot to it finally. orz Yeah, if some of you actually like this fanfic, then if I don't come out with another chapter a couple days after, I suggest pestering me until I come out with another. I tend to do that or just drop the story before I actually finish it. ahahaa
Anyways, that very first line is a quote from Leonidas 1st, King of Sparta 17th in the Agiad Line.
Now, I hope you're noticed that Vianca is Vatican City/Papal States. She is raindiae and my OC. ^^;; You're probably wondering why she's like that. Well, frankly, the Vatican isn't ALL THAT PURE. Remember there's the Inquisitions, the church killed a lot. And to think, the way they use to pick the pope back then was just so WEIRD [and perverted]. XD That and, the age of consent in Vatican City is 12. That's lower than France and Spain's. LOL
Also, why a date for Rome's death? Cause I felt like it. xD September 4th is Romulus Augustulus ended his reign of the Western Roman Empire. He was the last emperor of the Western Roman Empire. You see where I was getting there? haha
Well, I hope you enjoyed. C: