[ closed // in progress ]

[bloodofaborgia]

WHO: Cesare Borgia (bloodofaborgia), Dean Winchester (canecieco), Jacob Black (bela_lupo), Roger Davis (cheapredlights), Kaede (fogliadacero), Soiree Meira (angelodellasera), and possibly a cameo appearance of Kisten Felps (quod_mutos). Also possibly Franziska von Karma (franziska_vk).
WHAT: A set up. (BUT DEAN DOESN'T KNOW THAT. SHH.)
WHERE: Guilty Pleasures
WHEN: Day 136, September 25, 7pm.

Comments

[canecieco]

Something was going to happen.

Dean received the message from his sotto capo Hijikata, and immediately felt something sharp in his gut. He would go. He had to go, uphold his name, not look like a fucking pussy, but he was packing up. A gun in the waistband of his jeans, a knife in his boot, and he was going to go down fighting if it came to that. Some might call Dean paranoid, but he called it careful. If Hijikata took out Franky, who's to say Dean won't be next? Especially after punching the lights out of Syaoran and playing that trick on the devil himself.

Before leaving, Dean called Sam and Brian. Left them important messages, and he hoped to whatever fucking God was out there that they listened. He could either die or survive and get the Hell out of Dodge with Sammy by his side.

He should have listened to his baby brother. Fucker.

Took a taxi down to Guilty Pleasures instead of taking the Impala, because he didn't want to see his baby hurt. The establishment was mocking him, and Dean growled, walking inside, and asking the

[quod_mutos]

Kisten smiled benignly, a flashy of beautifully white teeth. "Mr. Winchester?" He finished wiping a glass -- it was the poetic bartender way, and Kisten was nothing if not poetic and theatrical -- and flipped the part of the counter that let him loose on the establishment. He gestured towards a more secluded part of the restaurant and said, "Right this way," still smiling that beatific smile. If Dean hadn't noticed the empty state of the restaurant, all the better for his business.

As messy as it might get, Kisten could take care of himself.

And Cesare would cover the damages. That was what made it all okay.

[canecieco]

It was too quiet and barren for a nice night out on the town. Dean looked shifty, trying not to tremble as he smiled, nodded, and followed the bartender's directions.

A secluded place away from everywhere else - he entered, and surprise for fucking surprises. He shouldn't be. He won't be, but he was and he knew that tonight wasn't going to be his night.

In fact, it might be his last.

"Wrong party?" Dean asked, chuckling though everything about him spelled fear. "Might as well have a shot while I'm here, don't you think so Signore Borgia?"

[quod_mutos]

A host must always complete his duties. Kisten continued smiling as he made his way to the single chair across from the Monacello Don, pulling it out gracefully.

"Your seat, Mr. Winchester," he said politely, still smiling his benign, almost painfully white smile. "Can I get you a refreshment to begin with?"

[canecieco]

Wasn't this guy handsy? Dean smiled back, all pearly whites shining right back at him. He took the seat, flopping down, slouching, being the opposite of what a caporegime for the prestigious Vescovo family should be. Hell, he even put his feet up on the table. Not like it fucking mattered. He was dead.

"Yeah, can I have one of those," he pursed his fish lips in thought. "Purple nurples? Nipples? Eh, whatever. It's a fucking shot."

[quod_mutos]

Kisten kept his smile firmly in place as he inclined his head politely and said, "I think I know the drink you mean. I'll be right back."

As he walked away, he smirked. At least I don't have to deal with his feet myself. Though I doubt Cesare would respond, ah, quite the same.

[beta_lupo]

Slipping in through a side door with a grin, Jake waved to the shocked looking man across from his Sotto Capo. He moved forward until he was a few feet from Dean, bringing up his mass to what it was worth, smile still in place. "Howdy," he said.

[canecieco]

"Thought you wouldn't go the pussy way - " Dean murmured, struggling to stand up. He used the table as support, but even the poison was too much. One, two, and he was falling sideways. Grabbing the table cloth, he pulled it with him. Glasses falling to the floor and liquid all around him. He was caught.

[ooc: onmhjalhg i thought i tagged this]