The Vongola Throne 17: Emperor Caligula
Title: Emperor Caligula
Author: ofphenwa
Rating: PG13
Summary: Emperor Caligula once disposed of his political opponents by inviting them to a banquet. He had the doors barricaded and when they were drunk and merry, he had them slaughtered.
A/N: Sorry for the late update. I was sucked into Star Trek fandom. Also, does anyone think that the manga is going a bit too crazy these days? I give up on trying to include the Millefiore in this AU. *flails* Feedback, as always, is welcome! :D
Emperor Caligula
The large dining hall was tastefully decorated with beautiful flower bouquets in bronze urns. The walls were dark mahogany, complementing the rich red velvet carpeting. Don Amaranta liked the vault-like ceiling the most - it was a picturesque fresco of the Sicily landscape with imaginary baroque angels resting upon clouds. The guests seated themselves at the large round obsidian table, their reflections distorted and blurred in the smooth jet-black surface. The chairs were heavy and solid, just like the protective presence of their two bodyguards behind them. One chair remained empty.
In the silence of the room, Amaranta approved of the absence of windows (it reduced the risk of snipers) and observed three anonymous mafia men standing guard at the main entrance which they just entered. The Cervello women had disappeared into another doorway at the side of the hall. Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long for the mysterious newcomer to finally show himself. The small doors swung open with a pneumatic whine and the Cervello women emerged from the darkness, quickly stepping aside and standing at attention for Don Vongola to emerge.
Don Vongola was tall and had dark unruly hair. A vicious scar ran down his face on his left cheek and his eyes were brutally cold and dark. The successor was dressed simply in a suit and a long furred cape that added to his looming presence. Don Vongola Decimo's power could not be denied and the other mafia leaders acknowledged him as the new Vongola leader and part of the La Costa Nostra with slight nods. Before he took his seat, he swept his eyes over his audience and politely said in a deep voice,
"My apologies."
Then he finally made himself comfortable, leaning forward on his elbows and steepling his hands as he took his time familiarising himself with his new colleagues as they also examined him back. He was the youngest of them all and yet, he was also the most powerful in terms of what he now controlled. Don Tarantino finally broke the ice with a quiet observation,
"Now we're all gathered…Let's begin the discussions."
--
Tsuna wasn't expecting to run into Gokudera again on his grocery errand for his mother. Seeing the familiar figure ahead, Tsuna hurried over as fast as he could with his burdens to greet him.
"B-Buon Giorno, Gokudera Hayato. I haven't seen you in a while."
"…Your Italian sounds awful, Boss. Nice try though."
Gokudera was visibly surprised by the familiar greeting and he smiled briefly at his new boss. Tsuna sighed in disappointment. He glanced at the sign Gokudera had been examining and queried carefully to his volatile associate,
"You're looking for a place to stay?"
Gokudera flicked his cigarette and averted his gaze from Tsuna as he muttered resignedly,
"…Yeah. It seems that very few places want to sell to a foreigner at a cheap price while they sell to the Japanese at such a bargain. I can't keep living in a cramped hostel and I can't go back to Italy so I'm pretty much homeless. It's not like you can help me out, hmm?"
Tsuna frowned at Gokudera's defeatist words. On impulse, He shoved one of the bags into Gokudera's chest and said firmly,
"Please help me carry this back home. Then we'll talk further."
Gokudera blinked in confusion and Tsuna pulled out the most commanding voice he could muster,
"Now."
"A-Ah, yessir."
Gokudera meekly replied and took the bag from him without complaint. He was positively sluggish as the duo walked the familiar route back to the Sawada residence. Tsuna was alarmed.
His situation must be rather bad, uh.
Nana was pleasantly surprised to see the nice foreigner again but on seeing Tsuna's serious face, she simply waved them to the kitchen where they deposited the groceries on the kitchen table. Nana ushered them into the living room, asking along the way,
"Thank you very much for helping! Would you like some tea? Coffee perhaps?"
Gokudera mustered up a genuine smile at the nice lady.
"Tea please."
"Ok. Be back in a minute~"
Tsuna perched himself on the edge of the chair and mentally thanked the fact that Reborn was at Yamamoto's place (again). He had the feeling that his presence would cause the crotchety Gokudera to clamp up about his problem and they would get nowhere fast. Tsuna suppressed a sigh when he saw that Gokudera had made no move to sit down. He pointed at the couch beside him.
"Please. Sit. Down. You're our guest, not my… subordinate in this place."
Gokudera sat down slowly and reluctantly as if the couch had a bomb underneath waiting to blow.
Tsuna blew out the breath he had been holding in and fixed Gokudera in his gaze. He placated him,
"I don't really want to pull rank on you, Gokudera-san. If you're willing, can you tell me what your problem is? I'm willing to help in any way I can."
Gokudera fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. He finally gritted out,
"I've been exiled from Italy…thanks to my former client, the one who ordered a hit on you. I've got no cash because my accounts have been frozen and I've got no place to stay. I'd rather not deal with the Yakuza if I could; there's always been bad blood between the Mafia and the Yakuza."
Tsuna nodded, finally understanding why Gokudera was in such a bad mood. He asked carefully,
"Have you managed to find any jobs yet?"
Gokudera's smile was crooked. He replied,
"Sort of. I play the piano here and there as entertainment and I earn enough to keep me going but not for renting an apartment."
Tsuna raised a surprised eyebrow at the fact that Gokudera played the piano professionally. A man of hidden talents…Tsuna summarised,
"So basically, you need to find a place to stay?"
Gokudera stiffly nodded. Tsuna rested his head on his hand and finally suggested,
"I'll see if my mother would be willing to accept another occupant into this household for the time being. You can stay until you finally earn enough to rent your own place. I'm sure she won't mind - she liked you the last time."
"I…"
"No buts. Or I'll have to pull rank on you, Gokudera-san."
Gokudera slowly grinned. It looked like that Tsuna was starting to act like a proper Mafia Don and it was going to be interesting.
--
Plip… plip… plip…
Crimson blood dripped sluggishly onto the velvet carpeting, indistinguishable from the deep red colouring of the velvet. The room was deathly still and quiet with the heavy coppery odour of blood hanging in the hot air. The magnificent obsidian table had been flung to the side and smashed into pieces against the stone wall. Bullet holes lined the walls and floor with occasional scorch marks and blood spatters. Dead men lay on the floor. The frescoed ceiling was still intact.
The chairs were miraculously upright in the chaos and in them, lay the deceased Mafia leaders. They had died in various violent ways - Don Tarantino had been shot twice, head and chest, Don Agnello had severe burns from electrocution, Don Tenebre had been ravaged as if attacked by a wild animal, Don Giorno bore no marks, having literally and mysteriously drowned to death, Don Cavallone was no longer pristine, slumped in his chair like a limp marionette - his tendons had been precisely cut before finally being offed with a gunshot. Don Amaranta bore a lasered hole in his torso so large you could see the chair through him.
La Costa Nostra had fallen to the Vongola Famiglia within a day and soon, ripples would spread through out the underbelly of Italy and the world. What terrifying power did the Don Vongola Decimo possess to so easily dispose the six most powerful Mafia leaders? No one knew save for the silent dead men lying in the trashed room beneath the gazes of angels.
--
Bianchi felt a chill go up her spine. Her father was not back yet and it was turning late, the shadows growing long under the trees in the courtyard as the light turned gold. Casting her eyes towards the general direction that Don Amaranta had taken, Bianchi almost did not notice a maid enter the room and nearly killed her with a flung dagger, so wound her nerves were.
"Knock on the door next time!"
Bianchi chided the trembling maid as she coolly plucked the dagger out of the wall. She twirled the dagger for a moment before sheathing it in its holster on her upper thigh. The maid clasped her hands in front of her chest and cried
"Oh, Lady Bianchi! There is a delivery from the Vongola Famigilia waiting for you at the main doors. It smells dreadful and no one has dared to go near it to even open the chest. Don Amaranta is not back yet
Bianchi felt a dizziness overwhelm her for a moment. Straightening up, Bianchi let the icy cool focus of an assassin settle on her as she murmured,
"Very well, I shall go and see it. Please return to your duties and thank you for coming to inform me."
"Yes, milady."
Bianchi left the room with long strides, ignoring the household staff that clustered along the corridors with pale faces. She finally reached the main doors of the castle where a large chest was unceremoniously placed on the white marble of the patio. The maid was right, there was indeed a foul smell about the chest and Bianchi recognized the brown splotches on the grain of the wood to be freshly dried blood. She took a few seconds to steady herself before wrenching the chest open, expelling a toxic concentrated odour of rot and blood.
"Mio Dio!"
Bianchi clapped her hand to her mouth as she quickly looked away, controlling the urge to retch at the sight and smell. She weakly shut the chest with one hand and shakily, she stood up and drew herself up to her full height. With the barest tremble in her voice, Bianchi ordered the body within the chest to be prepared for burial. Her hands were sticky with blood that smeared off the chest. Bianchi felt cold as she realized the ramifications of Don Amaranta's death. Amaranta Famiglia was dead, save for herself and her estranged half-brother in Japan. The Vongola Famiglia was stained with the blood of the Amaranta and Bianchi's fury would burn until her father's blood was cleansed with the blood of the Vongola.
In her cold fury, poison dripped from Bianchi's fingernails onto the marble floor, a hiss filling the air as the poison ate away at the stone.
"Lo voglio che lui morti!"
But first, she had to inform Gokudera in Japan, which was also fortuitous for if the rumours were correct, Reborn was also there…
"Esso e stato un lungo periodo, beniamino."
--
Glossary
Mio Dio - My god
Lo voglio che lui morti - I want him dead.
Esso e stato un lungo periodo, beniamino - It's been a long time, darling.
Master Post
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Previous
Author: ofphenwa
Rating: PG13
Summary: Emperor Caligula once disposed of his political opponents by inviting them to a banquet. He had the doors barricaded and when they were drunk and merry, he had them slaughtered.
A/N: Sorry for the late update. I was sucked into Star Trek fandom. Also, does anyone think that the manga is going a bit too crazy these days? I give up on trying to include the Millefiore in this AU. *flails* Feedback, as always, is welcome! :D
Emperor Caligula
The large dining hall was tastefully decorated with beautiful flower bouquets in bronze urns. The walls were dark mahogany, complementing the rich red velvet carpeting. Don Amaranta liked the vault-like ceiling the most - it was a picturesque fresco of the Sicily landscape with imaginary baroque angels resting upon clouds. The guests seated themselves at the large round obsidian table, their reflections distorted and blurred in the smooth jet-black surface. The chairs were heavy and solid, just like the protective presence of their two bodyguards behind them. One chair remained empty.
In the silence of the room, Amaranta approved of the absence of windows (it reduced the risk of snipers) and observed three anonymous mafia men standing guard at the main entrance which they just entered. The Cervello women had disappeared into another doorway at the side of the hall. Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long for the mysterious newcomer to finally show himself. The small doors swung open with a pneumatic whine and the Cervello women emerged from the darkness, quickly stepping aside and standing at attention for Don Vongola to emerge.
Don Vongola was tall and had dark unruly hair. A vicious scar ran down his face on his left cheek and his eyes were brutally cold and dark. The successor was dressed simply in a suit and a long furred cape that added to his looming presence. Don Vongola Decimo's power could not be denied and the other mafia leaders acknowledged him as the new Vongola leader and part of the La Costa Nostra with slight nods. Before he took his seat, he swept his eyes over his audience and politely said in a deep voice,
"My apologies."
Then he finally made himself comfortable, leaning forward on his elbows and steepling his hands as he took his time familiarising himself with his new colleagues as they also examined him back. He was the youngest of them all and yet, he was also the most powerful in terms of what he now controlled. Don Tarantino finally broke the ice with a quiet observation,
"Now we're all gathered…Let's begin the discussions."
--
Tsuna wasn't expecting to run into Gokudera again on his grocery errand for his mother. Seeing the familiar figure ahead, Tsuna hurried over as fast as he could with his burdens to greet him.
"B-Buon Giorno, Gokudera Hayato. I haven't seen you in a while."
"…Your Italian sounds awful, Boss. Nice try though."
Gokudera was visibly surprised by the familiar greeting and he smiled briefly at his new boss. Tsuna sighed in disappointment. He glanced at the sign Gokudera had been examining and queried carefully to his volatile associate,
"You're looking for a place to stay?"
Gokudera flicked his cigarette and averted his gaze from Tsuna as he muttered resignedly,
"…Yeah. It seems that very few places want to sell to a foreigner at a cheap price while they sell to the Japanese at such a bargain. I can't keep living in a cramped hostel and I can't go back to Italy so I'm pretty much homeless. It's not like you can help me out, hmm?"
Tsuna frowned at Gokudera's defeatist words. On impulse, He shoved one of the bags into Gokudera's chest and said firmly,
"Please help me carry this back home. Then we'll talk further."
Gokudera blinked in confusion and Tsuna pulled out the most commanding voice he could muster,
"Now."
"A-Ah, yessir."
Gokudera meekly replied and took the bag from him without complaint. He was positively sluggish as the duo walked the familiar route back to the Sawada residence. Tsuna was alarmed.
His situation must be rather bad, uh.
Nana was pleasantly surprised to see the nice foreigner again but on seeing Tsuna's serious face, she simply waved them to the kitchen where they deposited the groceries on the kitchen table. Nana ushered them into the living room, asking along the way,
"Thank you very much for helping! Would you like some tea? Coffee perhaps?"
Gokudera mustered up a genuine smile at the nice lady.
"Tea please."
"Ok. Be back in a minute~"
Tsuna perched himself on the edge of the chair and mentally thanked the fact that Reborn was at Yamamoto's place (again). He had the feeling that his presence would cause the crotchety Gokudera to clamp up about his problem and they would get nowhere fast. Tsuna suppressed a sigh when he saw that Gokudera had made no move to sit down. He pointed at the couch beside him.
"Please. Sit. Down. You're our guest, not my… subordinate in this place."
Gokudera sat down slowly and reluctantly as if the couch had a bomb underneath waiting to blow.
Tsuna blew out the breath he had been holding in and fixed Gokudera in his gaze. He placated him,
"I don't really want to pull rank on you, Gokudera-san. If you're willing, can you tell me what your problem is? I'm willing to help in any way I can."
Gokudera fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. He finally gritted out,
"I've been exiled from Italy…thanks to my former client, the one who ordered a hit on you. I've got no cash because my accounts have been frozen and I've got no place to stay. I'd rather not deal with the Yakuza if I could; there's always been bad blood between the Mafia and the Yakuza."
Tsuna nodded, finally understanding why Gokudera was in such a bad mood. He asked carefully,
"Have you managed to find any jobs yet?"
Gokudera's smile was crooked. He replied,
"Sort of. I play the piano here and there as entertainment and I earn enough to keep me going but not for renting an apartment."
Tsuna raised a surprised eyebrow at the fact that Gokudera played the piano professionally. A man of hidden talents…Tsuna summarised,
"So basically, you need to find a place to stay?"
Gokudera stiffly nodded. Tsuna rested his head on his hand and finally suggested,
"I'll see if my mother would be willing to accept another occupant into this household for the time being. You can stay until you finally earn enough to rent your own place. I'm sure she won't mind - she liked you the last time."
"I…"
"No buts. Or I'll have to pull rank on you, Gokudera-san."
Gokudera slowly grinned. It looked like that Tsuna was starting to act like a proper Mafia Don and it was going to be interesting.
--
Plip… plip… plip…
Crimson blood dripped sluggishly onto the velvet carpeting, indistinguishable from the deep red colouring of the velvet. The room was deathly still and quiet with the heavy coppery odour of blood hanging in the hot air. The magnificent obsidian table had been flung to the side and smashed into pieces against the stone wall. Bullet holes lined the walls and floor with occasional scorch marks and blood spatters. Dead men lay on the floor. The frescoed ceiling was still intact.
The chairs were miraculously upright in the chaos and in them, lay the deceased Mafia leaders. They had died in various violent ways - Don Tarantino had been shot twice, head and chest, Don Agnello had severe burns from electrocution, Don Tenebre had been ravaged as if attacked by a wild animal, Don Giorno bore no marks, having literally and mysteriously drowned to death, Don Cavallone was no longer pristine, slumped in his chair like a limp marionette - his tendons had been precisely cut before finally being offed with a gunshot. Don Amaranta bore a lasered hole in his torso so large you could see the chair through him.
La Costa Nostra had fallen to the Vongola Famiglia within a day and soon, ripples would spread through out the underbelly of Italy and the world. What terrifying power did the Don Vongola Decimo possess to so easily dispose the six most powerful Mafia leaders? No one knew save for the silent dead men lying in the trashed room beneath the gazes of angels.
--
Bianchi felt a chill go up her spine. Her father was not back yet and it was turning late, the shadows growing long under the trees in the courtyard as the light turned gold. Casting her eyes towards the general direction that Don Amaranta had taken, Bianchi almost did not notice a maid enter the room and nearly killed her with a flung dagger, so wound her nerves were.
"Knock on the door next time!"
Bianchi chided the trembling maid as she coolly plucked the dagger out of the wall. She twirled the dagger for a moment before sheathing it in its holster on her upper thigh. The maid clasped her hands in front of her chest and cried
"Oh, Lady Bianchi! There is a delivery from the Vongola Famigilia waiting for you at the main doors. It smells dreadful and no one has dared to go near it to even open the chest. Don Amaranta is not back yet
Bianchi felt a dizziness overwhelm her for a moment. Straightening up, Bianchi let the icy cool focus of an assassin settle on her as she murmured,
"Very well, I shall go and see it. Please return to your duties and thank you for coming to inform me."
"Yes, milady."
Bianchi left the room with long strides, ignoring the household staff that clustered along the corridors with pale faces. She finally reached the main doors of the castle where a large chest was unceremoniously placed on the white marble of the patio. The maid was right, there was indeed a foul smell about the chest and Bianchi recognized the brown splotches on the grain of the wood to be freshly dried blood. She took a few seconds to steady herself before wrenching the chest open, expelling a toxic concentrated odour of rot and blood.
"Mio Dio!"
Bianchi clapped her hand to her mouth as she quickly looked away, controlling the urge to retch at the sight and smell. She weakly shut the chest with one hand and shakily, she stood up and drew herself up to her full height. With the barest tremble in her voice, Bianchi ordered the body within the chest to be prepared for burial. Her hands were sticky with blood that smeared off the chest. Bianchi felt cold as she realized the ramifications of Don Amaranta's death. Amaranta Famiglia was dead, save for herself and her estranged half-brother in Japan. The Vongola Famiglia was stained with the blood of the Amaranta and Bianchi's fury would burn until her father's blood was cleansed with the blood of the Vongola.
In her cold fury, poison dripped from Bianchi's fingernails onto the marble floor, a hiss filling the air as the poison ate away at the stone.
"Lo voglio che lui morti!"
But first, she had to inform Gokudera in Japan, which was also fortuitous for if the rumours were correct, Reborn was also there…
"Esso e stato un lungo periodo, beniamino."
--
Glossary
Mio Dio - My god
Lo voglio che lui morti - I want him dead.
Esso e stato un lungo periodo, beniamino - It's been a long time, darling.
Master Post
Next
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