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Name:
Bruno, Mario, Tagliano.
Age:
Approximately: 29.
Race/Ethnicity: Caucasian. Italian with various mixes of German and Polish.
AFFILIATION: (FORMER.) GUERERRO MAFIA FAMILY, (FORMER.) TOMASINO MAFIA FAMILY, (FORMER.) HEAVY HITTERS STREET GANG. (Current faction has been known to vary.)
Family And Next Of Kin: Close Cousin; Franchesca, Aria, Marie.(An Apparent "Female" Mobster. Her body was found washed up at a beach over by The Southport Beach.) Sister: Carla Marano Tagliano Younger Brother: Vincent"Four Fingers." Tagliano. Father: Angelo Donte Tagliano. Mother: Cecilia Marissa Tagliano.
Chapter 1: "One Tough Bastard."
Sounds of crackling bones and blood-filled gurgles could be heard as Bruno had finished the last of the small pack of punks who were causing a ruckus in his neighborhood. Grunting slightly to pick up the last beaten thug, Bruno brought him face to face, his left fist having a death grip unto the nearly ripped apart shirt the thug wore. The one eye the thug had that wasn't bruised and blurred widened as his attention was fixated on the berserker and behemoth that was: Bruno Tagliano.
"P-P...Please! We'll d-dangle! W-We swear!-" Before the thug could hopelessly finish his feeble sentence, Bruno threw another punch onto him, and the thug took it, directly to the face. Bruno also gifted a painful knee to the groin before tossing the ruffian back to his group of fellow thugs, who were lying unconscious and covered in their own individual sets of injuries given unto them by Bruno.
"Yall better scram if you'se know what's good for ya! If I see any of you'se three back in this neighborhood, it'll be curtains." With that, Bruno whipped out a thick wad of fifty-dollar bills and he withdrew three of them, before tossing them carelessly to the three incapacitated thugs. "See a fuckin' doc, then get the fuck outta here. I'se don't wanna see the three of ya's ever again."
Making his way out the Alley, Bruno cracked his bruised and now sore knuckles, the fight hadn't been tough, but it had been as if Bruno had been hitting a hardened punching bag without gloves. Whistling slightly as he strolled along, Bruno had decided to stop at a small cafe; "The White Cat." Once inside, Bruno was greeted with the chatter of cafe goers and silverware clatter. Such a tall and brutish figure like Bruno, he had to duck as he entered the establishment. With a small and polite smile, he greeted the redhead cafe girl behind the counter. "Heya Janice, it's always a pleasure to see that smile of yours." Bruno complimented slightly as the redhead female giggled and blushed slightly. "If you'se needs ta see Carlo, he's in the back." She whispered, handing him a three of clubs playing card. "It's a full house tonight, thanks for getting rid of those punks. Carlo also told us to let you play on the house from now on." Janice told Bruno with a smirk before she left a small peck on his left cheek and ushered him toward the back of the cafe. A smile of both accomplishment and contentedness stayed plastered upon Bruno's face as he was led.
Janice gave the seemingly disguised freezer door four knocks before a hidden sheath within the door opened. A pair of brown eyes had scanned the room, to only find, of course, Janice and Bruno. Soon the door had opened and the two brown-suited gentlemen waved Bruno in. Janice had left Bruno's side, blowing him a kiss before she disappeared to attend to the cafe.
After being patted down for his set of brass knuckledusters and his 1911 Colt 45 pistol, Bruno entered the "White Cat."
The gambling hall had quite the atmosphere, the sweet sound of swing and jazz echoing throughout the room as lavishly dressed patrons threw away their ill-gotten gains into the pockets of dealers and compartments of slot machines. Giving a hearty laugh and sighing gently, Bruno only shook his head and strolled through the gambling hall. The Brutish Mobster felt like a million dollars as of tonight, unaware of the tragedy that would soon befall the three organizations he had been associated with.....For now, he was lost in the moment, enjoying the 'benefits.' that had come from a job well done.
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