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| Dons of the Dead | Started by: Marietta on Oct 06, '08 16:53 |
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Climbing out of her car, a very frustrated looking Don of Detroit quickly marches over to the corner of Main Street and Grand Avenue, a place she knows is always inhabited with mobsters of all varieties. Her green eyes quickly dart around to find a soap box, and pointing it out to her associates that accompany her- Zoey and Eepster- the three women manage to move the box into a decent spot. Without any of her usual flare for drama the woman hopped up onto the box, sticking her fingers into her mouth and letting off a sharp whistle. The street activity faltered, glancing upwards at the woman and slowly moving forward. Thank you for your attention, the woman began, immediately being faced with random cries from worried and anxious gangsters and thugs. "When will there be enough housing space?!" "You killed my mother!" "What the fuck happened?" QUIET! Marietta said, all trace of her usual good humor lost. Looking downwards for a beat of a second she silently prayed for strength. Clearing her throat she looked up at the gathered men and women, watching as more and more people began to trickle forward to listen. It is my turn to speak, and it is your turn to listen. I am here to talk about the events of the last three days. Once the rumbling and mutterings of the crowd dissipated, the woman glanced towards her friends for strength, launching into her speech: I was happy and content with my little corner of the world, my small little slice of the pie. Being the Don of Detroit is more than I could've dreamed of accomplishing, and I have never let myself forget that. Every day I would pour more effort into my family, into the bars, into the Streets. This was my existence, and I was happy with it. Never did I yearn for anything more. What I'm trying to say, I suppose, is that I do not like killing. I do not like death. I despise war. If given the choice I will attempt to use my words and negotiate rather than pick up my gun and threaten as so many leaders often do. However, this does not mean that if someone threatens my life, or the lives of those I hold nearest and dearest to my heart, that I will not lay the smack down on a mother effer. Clearing her throat she shoots an apologetic smile to the crowd for her crass language. Taking a deep breath she allows herself a moment of thought before continuing. This will be long, and for those that will stay here to listen to me ramble during this entire speech will receive a hug. Well, perhaps not, but at least they will receive a wealth of information. Anyway, back to the subject at hand. For the first time in a very long time, I felt we, as a world, had stability: more high-ranked Mafiosi than I can remember ever seeing, things were active and alive; yet many felt that the world had grown stale. In my humble opinion, what I felt more was the depressive onset of fall and winter weather, making our world dreary. However, I can see how that and the hatred for the current leadership can be confused. Marietta stops to stare blankly for a moment before continuing. I will not rehash reasons why, as there were two speeches made about it by the opposition, but in the early morning hours of October fourth, Mont, Branston and Caligula- whom had bought out of Iris' family and good graces- decided to launch an attack against Philly and New York. At the time I was sleeping peacefully in my apartment. The phone rang at a little past seven a.m. and begrudgingly I answered. Lily, my late and lovely Left Hand, was calling to pass along information that the Don of New York, Daera, his Consigliere Captain ShagggyD, and many of Philly's highest ranked and respected mobsters had fallen dead. At the time the statement was so confusing that I merely responded with an 'okay', hung up and rolled back over in my sleep. Moments later I roused myself awake and called Lily back. She had managed to narrow down the assailants, and this was only because they had tried to make contact with her. Branston, during the war, had wired a telegram to Lily stating that we were merely 'to think of Detroit rather than Philly and New York'. No, I do not have the exact telegram in hand, it is back at my office, so I apologize if the context of that quote is not one-hundred percent accurate. The meaning was clear, though: the three remaining male Dons were behind the attack. Though I was tired I still could feel the looming sense of doom overhanging above. I woke up a few of my hitters, just in case, but the message had been sent out to remain in Detroit, head to the HQ and stay out of trouble until I could fully figure out what the hell was going on and where everyone stood. The opposition continued to send telegrams to the HQ and Lily continued to repeat them to me over the phone as I began to dress and leave my apartment. We were continuously assured over the next ten minutes that we were not going to be attacked. Imagine my utter surprise, then, just as I was adding my new leg holster to my ensemble and was picking up my gun, when none other than Caligula burst into my apartment and shot wildly at me, thankfully missing. At the time all I could think to do was shoot back. Unfortunately I missed, my neighbors called the police, and I was temporarily detained in a holding cell while one of my closest friends and my fiancwere slain. This did not make for a happy Marietta. Whether we were going to get involved or not was the biggest selling point on why the men felt they needed to attack me, but once they shot at myself and my crew they lost all bargaining chips. The fact that they pronounced Daera, Iris and myself as good as dead in their Street speeches, when two of us were still very much alive, proved to only fuel my flame. I may not be strong physically, but what I lack in that department I make up for in a tenacious strength of character and longevity. It was then and there that I decided I was going to aid in killing them all, or die trying. Which, in a sense, was the only way I was going out anyway. But let's not argue semantics. The war was long and it was, to be very blunt, fucking brutal. Each side was hit hard and had tremendous losses, and rather than highlight the entire thing play-by-play or death-by-death, I'll give a brief summary. With her biggest and best hitters gone, Don Iris managed to scrap together what was left of her hit squad and hunker down to start making plans. One by one the opposition started to see some of their comrades fall, but it was not enough. Unfortunately, the only thing I managed to bring to the table was two hitters: myself and my Left Hand Lily, and a plethora of body-guard wacking specialists and protective forces. In what I can only claim to be as the biggest, most vicious war my bloodline has ever participated in, we managed to take our three wackers and whittle down the hitters, bodyguards, and high rankers. No one expected us to live, no one expected us to do as much damage as we did, yet we ladies continued on, determined to hurt the Project 'Your Mum' alliance as much as they had hurt us. Through what I can only determine was sheer lady luck on our side, cheering us women and 'Project Sexy Bitches' on, we witnessed Iris' slaying of Mont, taking the sides down to an even two-on-two. The battle lasted on well through Saturday, making it's way into Sunday, where in the early morning hours we saw Branston fall to a wayward bullet from one of his own. One versus two was starting to look promising, but it was shortly thereafter that Messy, one of Project Your Mum's own, took control of an abandoned building and began creating his own operations and crew. Numbers had gone up to two on two again, and we were all beginning to feel weary and sleep-deprived. Losing Lily, one of our best hitters, to a poorly aimed bullet was like a kick in the teeth. And yet we managed to progress. Little by little we gained leverage, slowly but surely. It was not until the unfortunate shooting accident that took down Don Iris did we really feel the crippling effect. Our side began to crumble as we realized we had more people on our side than just one HQ could hold, and with little to no funding we were struggling. Somehow we managed to get Cab_Tufting, one of Iris' former members and local old guy, to quickly purchase a building and begin to shelter the homeless. In answer to our setting up another on our side, Caligula managed to convince U_Froglike_Plot, someone I believed to be one of my most trusted and helpful members, to buy out and join his cause as a rogue. The amount of disrespect I felt from that action is one that will still be hard for me to get over, as Froglike made it a point to mention- on several occasions- that he was loyal to me and the Riot only. Once again, however, the numbers were three against two, with the ranks tipping the scales towards them. One Don, a Consig and a Capo taking on a Don and a Made Man who barely had enough space between them to shelter all their associates. With the help of Doyle, a close and trusting associate of mine, and the donations from many, we managed to get another HQ up and running, to house as many as we could. With numbers at three on three we started to feel more confident in our operation. What happened next many of you can guess by looking at the obits in today's newspapers. Caligula was felled, as was Froglike, followed up with Messy who gave a bit of trouble to us towards the end by killing several of my Made Men. We made it through; we fought in a war that will forever go down in the history books. Two women and their families managed to turn around from a failing war to a brilliant victory, in true 'girl power' spirit. This October time-period is something I know I will fondly look back upon as the "Dons of the Dead". Five dead Dons, many more dead Consigs, even more dead Bosses, Capos and Mades. This war was a true testament to the statement 'absolute power corrupts absolutely'. I feel sad for losing each and every single one of the other Dons: Iris, Daera, Mont, Branston and Caligula. Even though in their last moments of life the latter three were taking less than noble courses in my mind, previous to that we did attempt to work together and make things around here grow and prosper. Regrettably, it was not to be. The power was divided among too many Dons and some wanted more, and as a result killed to take it. Too many hands in the cookie jar of ranks, one might say. What irks me most of all is that this was done for the 'betterment of the community'. If this- what little we are left with- is truly better, than I would have preferred it stay the way it was. So, this leads us with an awkward position in This Thing of Ours. One Don, one Capo and one Made Man Crew Leader, with a handful of Capos, one Boss (who doesn't really count, sorry Vag), and many many many people Wise Guy and below. Are we going to leave you all unsponsored? No. We are working to fix this problem as soon as possible. We have been discussing this since this morning, and we wish to have all remaining threats neutralized before putting more people into Bold Suits and making them targets for rogue shooters. All we ask of you is to please keep calm. Patience is a virtue; and if this is a virtue you do not happen to possess you will have to fake it. Will the killing stop? Soon, yes. As I said, there are some loose ends we are working to tie up, and we are moving as fast as our tired, war-ravaged bodies will allow. Once we are done we will let you all know and keep you well informed as to what is happening. I feel it is safe to say our world was left in tatters and shambles, and it will be a long, long road to fixing it. Looking up towards the sky Marietta sighs. Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying she lowers her head once more to face the sea of Mafiosi around her. We will make this a world that works for everyone. Before I part to do my best to help fix what's left of our community, I want to say this: This is not a time for grudges from anyone. To the warmongers: you got your bloodbath, you saw body counts rise. To the naysayers: you had your bitching and your tantrum throwing. Now is the time for everyone to put to rest their poisonous thoughts, their ill-will towards others and contribute. Together, we can make this a place that suits everyone. Now is the time to make the world ours. Thank you for your time. The other leaders and I will be back soon to inform you of what is happening. With a nod towards the crowd Marietta steps off her soapbox, she and her associates making their way towards her black Ford where, miraculously, her faithful body guard Pedro waited with the backdoor open. Waiting for Zoey and Eepster to crawl inside, the blond woman took one last backwards glance towards the bloodstained Streets with a pained look upon her face. It will be hard, but we can do it. |
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Gives a slow hand clap; merely because the words of the solitary Don have left him exhausted..... I cannot really say too much more. I was a very small piece of the proverbial pie here. Hopefully, with things settling down somewhat we can try and establish some semblance of normality on our shores now. My heart and thoughts are with all the fallen; here's hoping we can do them proud. Throws a few Cubans into the gathering crowd and turns away from the rabble..... |
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| Reply by: Cab_Tufting at Oct 06, '08 17:01 | |
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After standing in the crowd, Armani can't help but to walk away with a warm feeling inside. As he makes his way through the crowd with StonedSilent, he throws a few words out, letting anyone who cares hear them. "Oh man! That Marietta gal is quite somthin! I now feel assured that this world of ours is in stable condition, and headed towards a better tommorrow." Armani nods at the Don of Detroit "Amazing speech Ms. Marietta" |
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| Reply by: Armani at Oct 06, '08 17:23 | |
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Looking at the Last Standing Don walk away, Alise smiled to herself with bitterness and started talking to herself then to the crowd at large after a few phrases. I can't believe this happened... We lost so much, so very much. How this was ever seen as betterment I can not comprehend. So little Mafioso from before this idiotic power-grab-failure are still alive today. That is not right and you all damn know it. Once again we must rebuild, this time it will take much longer then the rest, we have not lost a crew leader and his/her Family. We lost five crew leaders and mostly all of their Families. The children of the fallen may or may not come back, may or may not be housed, may or may not survive the next few days. To many funerals, to many roses being left as the last word, to many tears, to many pointless deaths. Thank you all for finishing it, we finished it because we belived that it wasn't right, that it was not a good way to fall. To those that had to do just that, congrats you gave everything possible. The girl turned on herself and left the remaining crowd to ponder. |
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| Reply by: Alise at Oct 06, '08 18:21 | |
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Walks up to the crowd and gets their attention. BigBoss faces the crowd and says this: Was all of this necessary? I dont know. I am not part of a family (yet) so I cant say for certain what the talks were behind the door. I will say this though... dont mourn for the dead. Instead celebrate their lives. We are who we are. We lead a secret life different from a banker, a baker, or even a cop. We chose this life. We are proud of it. Otherwise why join a family? It sounds cruel to say but sometimes bloodshed is needed for the greater good. Those that are dead would not want you to mourn them. They would want you to go on with your life and serve your family with pride and dignity. Lets all remember something... everything that has happened is nothing personal. Its all business. We are all business men and women. Remember whats most important: Loyalty to family. During these hard times its best to stick with family and do whatever is needed to progress. Dont dwell on the past. For what? Whats done is done... <lights up="" a="" cigarette="" and="" walks="" away="" humming="" tune="" /> |
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| Reply by: BigBoss at Oct 06, '08 19:00 | |
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Juliet` smiles and skips along... |
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| Reply by: Juliet` at Oct 06, '08 19:26 | |
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| Observing the display of unity this speech has created, Matos_Black bows his head in respect for Marietta and vows to keep this "Thing of ours" alive. | |
| Reply by: Matos_Black at Oct 06, '08 19:35 | |
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| em>Amadeo_Macelli can't help but mourn over his father's death. There is however a feeling of content that overcomes him as he realizes something: Even though the war was tragic and too many people lost their lives. The children of these men, all of the "noobs" do now have the power to make this world a better place, a more loyal and dedicated place. If we commit to doing this, with the help of the family leaders (both current and future) we can have a nice and peaceful world. | |
| Reply by: Amadeo_Macelli at Oct 06, '08 21:14 | |
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