into the fire ,

[luca angelo giovanni]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #2b1c1b solid 30px; ] COME ON COME ON PUT YOUR HANDS INTO THE FIRE OUTFIT: here. TAGGED: staz NOTES: oh snap. ---"AND you're telling me everything is in order?" fausto's voice asked evenly over the phone. luca nodded even though fausto couldn't see him. "it's all in order. kale barker set everything up. smooth sailing from here, uncle." luca paced in the closed coffee shop across from china wok. he was with several other higher-ups in the giovanni totem pole. fausto was not here for the evening. he was in los angeles with annora. his uncle told him to deal with it. luca had proposed the idea to his uncle about bombing a place the russians would go to. he knew they were running the inferno, and luca wasn't an idiot, doing something at the inferno was dumb. it didn't take long for luca to hear about some meeting they were having. and after that, this plan was quickly put into motion. fausto gave it the go-ahead and here they were on the night off. the giovannis had connection with the siren gang. however most of their connections had quit but still resided in valkyrie. they reached out and the ex-sirens have them kale barker's name. a master at all things when it came to explosives, he designed the bomb for the restaurant. "gotta hand it to you cousin, this plan is quite brilliant." a hand was placed on luca's shoulder as he put his phone in his pocket. alberto jr. was standing next to him. alberto was fausto's eldest son, and being groomed to become the next don if fausto had to step down or got killed. luca was always close to alberto. alberto was a couple years older than luca but when luca's family moved to los angeles, alberto always was hanging around his then-british cousin. when luca had joined he family business, alberto was his, what you could say his mentor. luca went on numerous runs with alberto and his older cousin was the one that had unmeaningly gave luca his nick name, angel face. it was back when luca still had his ridiculous british accent that came off more as comical than intimidating. alberto and luca were trying to get information out of an irish member and the guy was just not taking luca seriously. it had been alberto who had been standing int he corner saying, "look man, don't underestimate his angel face, he packs a mean punch." and somehow it just stuck after that. luca looked at alberto and shrugged. "i keep hearing that verrentenikov amateur is talking shit about us. thought it's time we educated them on who runs valkyrie," luca said referring to stanislav verrentenikov, who int he russian bratva held about as much power is luca did for the italians. alberto chuckled and looked at his watch. "any minute now.," he murmured. the two italians turned around and faced several more men from the giovannis. luca wasn't expecting a war, but you never entered a battlefield without an army. common sense. besides, they were taking a hit on a secret meeting, therefore, big players would be arriving. this was why kale was told to detonate the bomb at 9:24 pm. some members would be there, but members of the russian bratva would still be making there way down there. luca didn't want to go in there and be blindsided, so of course there were a few soldiers here. "after the bomb goes off, just be aware of what's going on around you. don't start shit with anyone. help someone if you have the need to, but make sure you know where everyone is at," alberto told everyone. they all nodded. the objective was to have a friendly chat. ironic since the italians were getting their attention with an act of violence. it was whatever, you had to do what you had to do to make your mark. alberto looked at his watch again. "ok, 9:23. back it up." they were right across the street from china wok, and they were anticipating the coffee shop's storefront windows to shatter. they didn't want glass on their faces or anything like that so they all got behind the counter, crouched down, and waited. it was seconds after luca got down that he heard it and everyone of the men's faces lit up from the glare of the fire. it sounded like a hundred meth houses exploding at once. he heard the class shattering and for a brief moment, everything was silent. luca got up and hopped over the counter. alberto was right beside him. glass crunched at his weight as he walked across it to get to the front door. all luca had to do was step through door, where there once had been the glass displaying 'lucy's coffee cafe.' suddenly, it was like some unmuted the television and the sounds of screams and confusion filled the air. luca looked across the street, china wok was still burning. "half of you guys go that way, other half the other," luca ordered and the men dispersed, including alberto. "i'll see you soon," he said and took off down the sidewalk. luca stepped out a little more onto the sidewalk and looked around. fire blazed from china wok, the sky was raining debris and building fragments were littering the street along with people. confusion was the best way to describe it. he was waiting for the sirens to start. anyone could have heard that if they were outside. though, the track record for the cops in valkyrie was quite pathetic. well, maybe they were getting better at it, but the criminals were too. it took luca all of fifteen seconds to spot staz across the street. he was standing up and dusting dirt from his shirt. see? luca knew how to play it. blow it up before most of them got there. a few more seconds past before staz was looking squarely at him from across the street. luca pointed at him and waved with a chummy smile on his face, like they were old friends seeing each other for the first time. "looks like the element of surprise is completely old yet," luca said to staz as the russian approached luca. "on behalf of the giovannis, welcome to valkyrie." EXPLAIN EXPLAIN AS I TURN AND MEET THE POWER

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY THIRTEEN SENSES

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[stanislav yuri verrentenikov]

,HIS PATIENCE WERE <sub>quickly wearing thin. and stanislav verrentenikov liked to consider himself a mild, if accommodating individual. it was a rare commodity for the heir to the most powerful russian bratva to lose him temper. not even the most cynical of criminals could describe him as an uncontrollable force. it was pride in how he ran his bratva, how he represented himself to the world. staz was a controlled, deadly calm human being. people knew to duck and escape once his voice was raised. but when things were breaking? a one-way ticket to alaska could not have been better advised. he wanted to apologize on behalf of himself. stanislav verrentenikov had been raised to present a polite, resigned persona. that comes with the invisible footnotes (or threats) - maintain composure, never appear shaken, among others. and there was little doubt he had broken all of these, and more. it would be a shameful recap later on, but as of right now? it was impressive that he was successfully formulating complete sentences.

it had been three hours. no, four. it had been two hundred and forty minutes of a volcanic spectacle. but he had long been expecting it. no one can remain a perfect shell of emptiness forever. on more than one occasion, staz himself had overheard his own father exploding. every couple of months, aleksander verrentenikov would behave like an abusive fuck in withdrawal. and then he would shape up, and politely enter the public again. it had been by osmosis that staz had adopted this technique. it was the unwritten rule within the verrentenikov bratva to remain collected at all times. any trace of emotion was too much; a sick smile, a guilty frown. he could have cared less over the psychological states of is colleagues. he would only assume they followed similar, if embarrassing, habits. regardless, here we are, during one of the secretive breakings of one stanislav verrentenikov. he had managed to reach his hotel room before the edges around his dam crumbled. the…nerve[ of these people. these people were the ones he was entrusting some of the world's mot dangerous business too. and more time was spent taping together broken parts, rather than simply replacing them. when had this become acceptable? yes, he was understanding. the sakahrov's had been the most loyal of brigades. so, yes, he had sold tickets to watch the spectacular rise and fall of jamie collins. but the rest of this? simply inexcusable. the very effort staz had to put into reminding himself everything would remain unscathed at the end of this was astonishing. he did not question himself very often. he questioned others even less. there were just…times he had to act human. "you are breaking, mine brát." well, there was that too.

stanislav verrentenikov had been hearing himself for four hours. no, the only words spoken were russian curses. but the cruel words danced through his ear canals, an infection refusing to admit defeat. why would it? it always won. to be completely honest, staz himself wondered why he continued to be angry. these odd bursts of emotion were unavoidable: he had accepted that long ago. the reasons were equally meaningless. there were simply times one allowed too much frustration to mount and it would only disappear once a few glass dishes were shattered. but it had only been in recent years did they extend for longer than fifteen minutes. he'd been forced to lock himself in isolation for too many hours, and counting. and it was all because of that. his fingers were clamped around a worn book, a childish novel of gnomes under bridges and talking dragons, when it slammed against the wall with another thundering sound. the words began to echo, the edges around its giver fading, and he almost felt relief until he felt the cold eyes on the back of his neck. valentina verrentenikov was the one speaking to her brother, stanislav. but that was ridiculous - his younger sister had been dead for years. he was talking to himself, a foolish way of coping constructed by his broken mind. so why was he throwing books and threatening thin air? "just leave me, valentina. go." he had been able to form complete sentences all day. it was only now that was his voice lowered, soft, too emotionally drained to permit defeat. the tired eyes of his dead sister shined with sympathy for maybe a second before the cold enthusiasm was back. the icy smile - so reminiscent of sasha's - put her pale face alight. "oh, my brother," the voice he couldn't hear was sickeningly sweet, "when do you get to play my game and win? we'll talk later. you are finding yourself late for a meeting because you're pretending this is all a figment of your imagination. go. you're in for a fiery night." his tired eyes watched in disbelief as her doll-like face winked playfully and she vanished once again. there was no "that". he was exhausted and overworked and frustrated and…well, none of this was real, okay?

maybe he would have been more balanced if he succumbed to this ghost silly coping mechanism. stansialv verrentenikov was a disturbingly level human being. nothing forced him toward the edge, and over. he was doing this to himself. the only person capable of hurting you is you. that mentality had kept him breathing for twenty-six years, and hopefully for twenty-six more. and yet, here we are, watching the bratva heir slowly collapse. the ghost he wasn't seeing was right. as always. he was breaking. his patience were thinner these days, his temper much more open-minded when it came to exploding. he was angry. and at what? it appeared to be he was late for a meeting. tired eyes looked at the screen of his phone. he should have been on the streets of valkyrie, california ten minutes ago. while nothing of this importance ever continued until he decided to be present, it would be silly to do that. this was business. stanislav was walking a very thin rope, suspended high above the pool of sharks. you cannot even entertain infractions, let alone commit one. breathing a frustrated sigh, the russian heir pushed the back door of the inferno hotel and casino open with his shoulder. it was a solid fact now. had he been all alone inside of his head, this night would be flowing independently. no babysitter required. i suppose we can all wish. he'd already forgotten what this meeting was concerning. he forgot a lot of things these days, however. it was sasha, rolling her eyes, who reminded me. or kat would point him in the right direction. had he ever been desperate enough, he had little doubt lana would know the answer. milana lutrova always knew the answer. but, well, things were a little different these days. he could very easily had been left in peace if he accepted this ridiculous "haunting", instead of rationalizing it. ignoring it would have been easy. but, most unfortunately, it was valentina verrentenikov's vindictive smile which directed much of his schedule these days. it was her, after all, who scoffed and pointed to in the opposite direction.

it had been aleksander's idea. stanislav, regrettably, was more intelligent than his father. their business was best conducted deep within the bowels of the inferno hotel and casino. it was no myth the russian bratva had chosen it as their valkyrie headquarters. staz welcomed it, in fact, for their presence to be acknowledged. the town of valkyrie had lived in the shadow of the giovanni mafia for too many years, shrouded in the mystery they liked to think was a threat. no one would dare interrupt them there. but no, his father had to continue his stereotype of trench coats and meetings at the back of smokey restaurants. note - destroy any copies of 'the sopranos' that may be lying around. and staz would be the first to admit this was a ridiculous idea. for a meeting requiring many of the russian bratva's "heavy hitters", he couldn't have selected a, i don't know, russian restaurant? the chinese wok was a dirty building, continued to be scathed by the disastrous earthquakes from months previous. it definitely violated several health codes. the workers didn't even know what a green card was. and, worst of all, stanislav verrentenikov could not stand chinese food. aleksander wasn't even going to be there. needless to say, his stormy mood persisted the entire way down the backroads of valkyrie toward the silly restaurant in question.

his eyes had been directed down at his phone when it happened. his fingers were tapping the screen. his ears were flooded with the words of his dead sister. otherwise, i think he may have felt it more. i think he knew if valentina verrentenikov hadn't bothered her brother for a minute longer, he would have felt the flames. i think a lot of things, though. but what he was thinking is not one of them.

9:24 p.m. it had been a rather balmy evening in valkyrie, california. stanislav verrentenikov, recent import from the motherland, had been walking across the street to meet some friends at the chinese wok for a late dinner when it detonated. he had been working late, the report would later claim. running a few minutes behind schedule because he was arguing with his little sister. family, you know. none of the shady back room business. none of the false hopes any verrentenikov had been taken in the explosion. all that report would say is he was thankful he had been spared, devastated at the lost lives. this town has suffered too much in recent months, he would lie. the truth, however, was just how ugly valkyrie seemed content on being. once the buzzing had faded, staz blinked and learned he'd stepped off the curb right as the timer dinged. the interruption into his white noise had caught him off guard, causing him to trip. he had been too far to feel any real damage. a small part of him wondered who had been in the dingy little restaurant. he understood his bratva members, but he rarely cared for them. the people currently on the verrentenikov list of concern were all too bored or unimportant to be invited to this ridiculous meeting. he was still quiet, hovering somewhere between shock and confusion. val had to be here any minute. too bad it was a revolting italian accent that interrupted his patient waiting period. "oh behalf of the giovannis, welcome to valkyrie." the smugness in his voice caused a sick laughter to bubble up in staz's vocal cords. had he not been running on emotionless fumes, he may very well have lost his temper with luca. it was a sad day not to. all he felt was a dark fury. his veins ran empty, sandpaper and rawness. a cold smile followed his chuckle. he watched the giovanni for a moment, silent as day. swiping on last bite of dust from his sleeve, he stepped one foot up on the curb and pushed his hands into his pockets. "your don sent a memo regarding muffin baskets, not a civil case." his accented voice was empty, the sort of casual that had come to frighten even himself. stanislav rarely reacted so coldly. the anger and frustration - not to mention farther disgust - would have to come later. looking across the street as the shrieks faded and the flames spread, staz scoffed. "you disappoint me, angel, for no one taught you manners." finally understanding the silly name his father had always reserved for luca, staz turned to glance at him. pulling his hand from his pocket, staz extended it toward him. "on behalf of the verrentenikovs, i appreciate the effort," a sudden fury flickered in his eyes. "but you have yet to accomplish anything."</sub>

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TAGGED, the mafioso standoff.
DATE, the explosion, yo.
LENGTH, 1989 words.
ATTIRE, hurr.
NOTES, wtf, length.
CREDITS, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to hollywood undead - "city"

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[luca angelo giovanni]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #2b1c1b solid 30px; ] COME ON COME ON PUT YOUR HANDS INTO THE FIRE OUTFIT: here. TAGGED: staz NOTES: oh snap. ---NEITHER luca or staz had ever officially met before. they never seen each other, they just knew who they were. it was like the president of the united states. you've never met the guy, but you know him. besides, the president was the face of the nation. luca and staz respectively were faces of their organizations as well. luca rocked in his shoes, giddy that he was getting back in the groove of things. he wasn't rusty by any means, he was just... away from the dangerous side of the business that he missed it. it just made him wary a little bit. the last time he was front lines in all the action was when he was alone. therefore, he didn't have maggie and he didn't have feelings, and he didn't have a family on the way. luca was still the same collective decision maker, but everything was really different now. he knew what it was like to stop protecting yourself and protect the ones you cared about. he knew maggie could take care of herself, and maybe because she was just as involved as he was, she knew what to look for. but luca couldn't help it, he was a guy with a big ego. he wanted to protect maggie. luca also knew that the more responsibilities that fausto put upon him, the more of luca's enemies would use maggie, and their kids, against him down the road. he was prepared for that. it came with the territory. He knew growing up, his father always kept from him and benny the real dangers it was of working illegally. eventually, before luca even had met maggie, luca's dad sat him down and told him that if luca was really serious about becoming a full-time member of the giovanni business, he would have to learn to deal with threats. the first thing ever threatened was your family. you take away your family, and you had nothing, nothing to live for. finally, luca knew how that felt. the more maggie grew, the more luca felt like he needed to protect them every step of the way. he could defend them against an army of a thousand, but he only felt truly safe when he was with them. luca would sit in the back room of the italian eatery he ran his end of the business from, and constantly think if maggie was ok. the sad thing was, he knew it would only get worse as time went on. he spent his early twenties gaining a reputation in not only the family business, but the entire crime underworld. now? now luca was going to spend the entire life building a family and trying to be a good father and husband. that was the most terrifying of all. the giovanni crime family had never been an extremely violent organization. they never really were presented with needing to be. as long as luca could remember, there were never ever real "threats" from other bigger organizations. the irish, led by the selwyns, had always been a pain in the ass, but they didn't have generations to back the organization up, and now that the selwyns were overthrown and some renegade bikers took over the selwyn's lot, it just proved organizations came and went and the giovannis were always left standing. these russians... well, they had been the first legitimate threat in awhile. they had their branches, they had their skills, and the had someone running the operations that was just as ruthless as fausto was. the fact that they decided to settle in valkyrie really irritated anyone that worked under the giovannis. when organizations clashed it was usually because money was being taken from the other because of overlapping illegal activities. both the giovannis and the verrentenikovs shared activities. working in the same city made clients shift, money loss and gained, and territory disrupted. it was annoying and got tempers flaring. because of that, this explosions came to be to teach them a lesson. fausto didn't want to send a message to the crime world that the giovannis were weak and letting the russians trample all over them. necessary measures had to be taken and you were looking at the aftermath of it all. he didn't know staz, but luca was under the assumption that if they didn't work for rivalrying organizations, they could probably be friends. he had a feeling that they possibly thought alike. and unknowingly, they had a decent amount in common. they were both fairly young, and widely known in not only their business, but the crime world itself. they both had blood ties to the reigning leader. they both had a lot of responsibility on them, both leaders respectively, luca could go on forever. he was also positive that if the russians were smart enough to come up with this idea, luca would be charging at staz from across the street with the same pissed off yet controlled composure in his body language, even though behind their eyes, the desire to rip each other's throats out was evident. it was all about appearances. besides, it would be slightly awkward if they started fighting and cops had to pull them away from each other and notice who they were. luca knew all the big players in valkyrie had a board in the valkyrie police stations devoted to them with pictures and latest whereabouts. never could catch them doing something illegal so they just remained on a board, untouchable. but, all they would need was to catch luca and staz fighting and put two and two together. an exploding building and two opposing leaders of criminal organizations making a scene. luca rarely gave the valkyrie pd any credit, but he would hope that would be easy. luca shrugged at the russian's cold words. "what can i say, us italians do everything big." luca narrowed his eyes when staz called him angel, a clear dig at the name that stuck since he was just starting his jobs.luca had two guns, hidden in holsters on either side of his ribcage. it took every fiber in his being not to reach into his jacket and pull them out and pointing them at the amateur in front of him. but luca knew that would ruin everything. he could hear the sirens in the distance and soon, the place would be swarming with cops. "on behalf of the verrentenikovs, i appreciate the effort, but you have yet to accomplish anything." luca looked down at staz's extended arm in utter disgust. but luca laughed anyway. "actually, stanislav, i think we accomplished quite a bit tonight. if i heard right, you were going to have a little meeting in there tonight. of course, we purposely had the bomb detonated minutes before the meeting started, but tell me, how many of your soldiers do you think went early? eager to hear the words from the little russian boy. or how about, what will your father think when he hears this happened under your watch?" luca looked at him with quizzing eyes. "the way i see it, friend, i'm going to go home and drink some wine while you wait and hear the body count. i think i accomplished quite a bit tonight." satisfied with himself, luca even smiled. EXPLAIN EXPLAIN AS I TURN AND MEET THE POWER

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN @ CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY THIRTEEN SENSES

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