Lord English
Forum Replies Created
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Bell’uomo smirked at the old fashion cracks, Manticore defending it. “You took the words right out of my mouth, Arcobaleno.” He was happy with this, but then the offering of a different transport. He wasn’t using his own transport except for here in the area. He also knew his place had never been cleaned out. He pondered what was going to be so small that they’d have to crush in and shook his head. “I wasn’t using private, Manticore.” He made sure it was clear that he wasn’t going to go into hers just yet. “After and until I returned here, I was using public and one expectantly private piece of machinery that shouldn’t be in the Stati Uniti d’ America,” His voice went dark. “Anyways, I will be walking or we could take my limousine, just don’t touch the wine.” He began to walk out of the apartment, he made it a point to make sure that he wasn’t really trusting anyone but them at the same time he did trust his driver. He went to the elevator and took it down, thinking on what he was doing. He knew his driver could be trusted but he forgot one thing, he sent him to go pick up Sicaro. He sighed and wasn’t about to stop heading down, not caring if they were coming with but knew they would have to follow.
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Bell’uomo was also pleasantly surprised with the fact he could speak Italian, then he sighed and chuckled. He knew the man could be in trouble for speaking with a known mafioso, but even so, there was not a single crime to the family name other than a murder no one could prove. He strode to the recliner and sat himself down, Manticore saying how he shouldn’t have fallen for it. He leaned over to her and said, “It was undetectable, my instinct didn’t even tell me it was in there. It was my own bottle that only I handle.” He looked at the coffee and despite knowing the male had no intent of truly helping other than to catch criminals, he accepted it but just held it. He heard Manticore’s whisper and gave her a nod. He then said, “So, the flames, interesting that you would choose this man.” He chuckled to himself before looking up at Leon on the barstool, “The information I have to tell is not just all talk, I left the rotting corpses in my mansion since no one would take them.” He chuckled a bit and said, “Something about not wanting to get into the mafia’s business.” He looked at the coffee a moment and debated with himself. “First piece of information you need to know is that there WAS over five hundred members and the only ones investigated were my wife and children.” He sniffed the coffee and sipped it.
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[center][b]Name[/b]: George Harriman
[b]Age[/b]: 20
[b]Realm[/b]: EarthRealm
[b]Lineage[/b]: Unknown
[b]Appearance[/b]:
[b]Attitude[/b]: He doesn’t tend to take things seriously, always high all the time. He’s taken lessons to fight but only when he was high. He can’t remember anything if he comes back down.
[b]Moves[/b]:
[b]Ishin-ru[/b] – When he is not high, he can perform this hard style. When he is high, the style is all the more deadly.
[b]Conditional Epicness[/b] – If George is high, he has access to his moves his smoke sorcery and the more he inhales smoke of any hallucinogenic, mellowing, or other such drug influence, his power increases. It also increases depending on how strong the drug is. If George is not high, he is a deadly martial artist.
[b]Fog[/b] – George emits smoke from his hands and from his weed, filling the area around him. The smoke can be thick enough for light to penetrate and create false shadows or thick enough to block out all light and leave himself and the enemy in total darkness.
[b]Smoke Sense[/b] – George can feel things that move through his smoke, having almost a second sense that allows him to see in blues and purples where objects are. The brighter blue he sees, the more movement is present in that area.
[b]Moves like Mist[/b] – George can move through the air like smoke, evaporating into a blob of smoke that moves through the air swiftly to move him from place to place.
[b]Smog Bracers[/b] – He can condense the smoke into spiked knuckle bracers. These are hard enough to withstand high impact moves as well as dish out deadly damage as the spikes are barbed.
[b]Monster of the Fog[/b] – He can make a large fog monster form in his smoke or just the body parts of it. He can make it physical or see-through. He can only use this when above 50% power and then the time of use increases as he increases his power output. Less power is needed for less of the monster to show.
[b]FATALITY: Black Lung[/b] – He shoves the smoke into his opponent’s body and suffocates them to death.[b]History[/b]:
He lived the life of a normal human and started smoking weed when he was young. His parents were crack-heads and he lived on the streets. He did go to school with a friend of his that protected him when he needed it. They grew up together and the other kid was drafted as a soldier. During that time, George was committed into a mental hospital because strange things were happening when he was high. They cleaned him up but when his friend came back, he broke him out and gave him his weed back. While they were walking, they stopped. His friend forgot something and ran back to get it. George and his backpack full of weed got teleported into a place where he now believes he is on a constant trip. -
Bell’uomo chuckled at the shotgun and heard Manticore scolding him after the threat, though he wasn’t taking it as one. He said, “Ciao, il mio Bell’uomo è il tuo nome parlo ad avere bisogno di voi… (Hello, my Bell’uomo is your name I talk to need to you.)” He then remembered he was in America and corrected himself and tried to get his head in a straight thought process. “Greetings, my name is Bell’uomo. I just want to give you information on the case.” He then looked at Manticore and spoke swiftly, “Prima ancora di chiedere, qualcuno ha drogato il mio vino. Sto lottando con essa trattare, come potete vedere. (Before you even ask, someone drugged my wine. I am fineing with it deal as you can see.)” He was slowly burning it off and was straightening himself out. He then spoke again to the detective, “Shotguns are so distasteful.” He turned his head back to Manticore then and said, “Inoltre, quello che hai fatto a lui per fargli così divertente? (Also, what did you do to him to make him so funny?)”
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Bell’uomo smirked and hung up after hearing the male’s words. He then stopped and saw his limo drive up. He checked the driver, seeing it was the proper one and entered. He then directed him where to drive to. To his luck is wasn’t too far away. He opened a mini fridge and decided a take two on his wine incident from before. He took out a glass and set it in a holder. He took out a bottle and carefully poured it into the glass. He filled it about halfway then looked at the bottle. He looked back at the class and gave a sigh. He pressed the bottle to his lips and took a few swigs from it, he was going to actually need it this time. He lowered it and watched the street signs go by. Before he could think, the bottle was empty and they were a block from his destination. He placed the bottle away and then downed the glass before the car stopped.
He placed them away and took a sideways step out of the vehicle and stopped himself from falling forward. He leaned against the limo for a moment then said, “How long was that wine in there?” The driver just gave a shrug and looked back forward. Bell’uomo thought and remembered that he normally restocked the limo and the last time he put wine in the mini fridge was half a year ago or so. He shook his head and whispered to himself, “Cattiva idea. (Bad idea.)” Then he walked to the door of the apartment and looked at his tracking phone and looked up, almost falling backwards a little. “Fanculo questo. (Fuck this.)”
He ushered himself inside and forced himself as best as he could to walk in a straight line. He pressed the door to the elevator and waited a moment. He got inside and pressed the top floor, watching his phone. He saw it say he was getting closer but he giggled at his phone a tad. Once the doors opened on the top floor, he walked out and followed the phone to the door with the highest signal. He reached out to knock on the door but fell into it instead with a loud thud. He stood himself back up swiftly and knocked like a gentleman and straightened out his suit.
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Bell’uomo smirked at the comment of the clearly American male. He knew this bode unwell from the tone used but he would continue anyway. “I see she has already filled you in,” He spoke gladly and in American, hoping to quell some of the tension he was feeling through the phone as he made his way to track the phone to the destination. “I am sure she has already told you what is the reason for acquiring your services, as I am the one who called for such a thing as I am the victim. I will be arriving at your apartment shortly and will take you and her to my apartment in the District of Columbia. I believe that would be a fine place to start your investigation.” He pulled the phone from his ear and hit a button, this sent a notification to a limo driver the coordinates of where to arrive. Then he pressed the phone back up to his ear as he kept walking, knowing the driver could track him as he went. “Perhaps even a statement from a near victim himself?”
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Tenebrae rested for a short time before pressing her arms against the ground. She rocked from her elbows to her hands as she bent at the torso, sitting herself up. Kabal tried to hold her down but she pushed his hand aside as she placed one leg and then the other beneath her with quick bends of the knees. It was clear she was in pain but she wasn’t letting it stop her. “I am fine,” She spoke firm and forced herself to stand, placing her hands on the ground in front of her and using one swift movement to erect herself.
“You’re hurt,” Kabal spoke, keeping his voice plain as he looked up at her from his sitting position.
“I am fine, just a little sore.” She tried to make her voice read as if she was perfectly fine, though there was some grit from the pain she was feeling. She walked out to Sub-Zero despite her extreme soreness and spoke through grit teeth but a natural tone, “You don’t need to watch anymore. Just come back with us. Or we can train some more before Noob shows back up.” She stood as straight as she possibly could and crossed her arms under her breast with the right over the left.
Sub-Zero peeked back at her and shook his head. “You’re still sore.” He didn’t want to train with her like this, it could be bad for her children’s health though was glad to see her moving.
“Oh come on!” Tenebrae huffed then said, “Fine, I will wait for Noob.” She turned and walked back to the group, Sub-Zero following her back and Smoke taking the watch but not as far out as Sub-Zero was. Tenebrae helped herself to some of the meat they’d collected for her, gnawing on it. It hurt to chew but most of the blows were either chest or head so she was bound to be sore there despite the soul teleporting issues. They would be sorted soon enough.Noob Saibot listened to Terror and gave him a second look over. He spoke with firm diction to make sure the information was crossed adequately and that his warning would be known, “Night is in the deepest parts of the Prison of Souls, attempting to escape. If you are absolutely required to see him, I will grant safe passage through the prison. My brother is with Tenebrae’s band of followers, helping to train her. With that mark you should be able to find her easily. Do not do anything disruptive or there will be consequences to face.” Noob waited a moment for Terror’s response then went back to Tenebrae to continue the teleport training.
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The flight was swift, it was a private class plane but no one minded him being on it. It had docked at the airport to be used as a spare vessel while another one was in reserve. Whilst on the plane, he gazed at the wing, noting a familiar symbol that he wasn’t going to bring up to anyone he’d know. It was blue and gold, the center of the blue containing a gold bullet. He sighed and waited for the fast plane to land, a usually 6 hour trip taking much less than he had originally planned. He got off into the airport and took out his cell phone. On it he hit a button and traced to Manticore’s phone and it showed there was someone beside Manticore or at least near. He looked at the number and noted that it was unknown to him and he decided to give it a dial. He was cautious though, moving through the airport and hitting to call the unfamiliar number, waiting for the answer of which he’d say, “Caio.”
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Tenebrae got a little concerned as Noob moved past her and walked up to Sub-Zero. She turned but as she went to say something, he spoke to Sub-Zero. “That trick won’t work again. It’s been moved,” He sounded less pissed and more impressed. Sub-Zero smirked behind his mask then Noob continued, “You also started training without me.” He got into stance and Smoke moved from him and stood beside him.
Tenebrae smirked and got into stance and said, “Just you both?”
“Just me,” Noob spoke, “Protect yourself.”
Tenebrae didn’t hesitate and got into stance, watching Smoke go away but her eyes locked onto Noob. She saw him move and her first instinct was to step back. Noob teleported behind her and snapped his arm out to hit her from behind. She had turned to attempt to block when he vanished only to get knocked over by a blow to the shoulder. She took a couple steps and regained her balance. “The fuck…”
“You were trying to learn teleport. Do it,” Noob spoke simply and teleported again.
Tenebrae turned to block behind but got hit in the back as Noob had came in from the side. She curled herself in to tumble forward then get back up on her feet just to have him teleport and punch her in the face. Her balance was lost and she fell onto her rear. “I can’t teleport damn it!” She yelled at him while she stood back up, “That’s why he was taking me to learn from someone with similar strengths as me!”
“Feel it out on your own,” Noob punched her again in the face seeing as she turned thinking he was going to teleport again and it seemed a perfect opportunity to learn.
“I shouldn’t have apologized!” She yelled as she stepped a foot back despite the hit and got into the proper stance. She saw him move again and this time turned and managed to push his hit off to the side. She then focused on trying to pull herself in, or place her soul in a different location with her abilities. This wasn’t working and her lack of concentration on Noob resulted in her taking a hit to her sternum. She fell over breathless and forced herself up as she got herself to function. “Cheap shot…” She was pissed off at him and that just made her want to step away but she held herself firm. She tried again. She didn’t care where he was coming from, she tried to pull herself in. This only got her hit square in the back. She braced herself and only jerked forward as she tried again knowing he’d come from somewhere else. Instead of pulling in, she felt out and felt where he was coming from this time. She stepped off to the side, being able to dodge as she tried to focus on what had already been told to her.
Again, instead of feeling inward, she had felt out. This allowed her to dodge another attack, but the lack of being able to get out what she wanted was frustrating. She tried one more time and focused herself inward and in mere seconds, her skin sucked into a green orb then vanished. She appeared behind Noob as he was striking and she lost her balance from being dropped off too high. She took a few steps and smirked, she needed to remember the feeling of this. He teleported and performed another strike and she felt outward again instead. She dodged out of the way and tried again, knowing he’d attack. She managed to use her soul teleport again, landing worse but she was starting to get the hang of it. He attacked again and she teleported once more, landing on her feet this time and struck back. He blocked and threw another blow at her, again getting her to manage a teleport behind him but she fell over off her feet and landed on her back. She felt her body give out for a moment then regain feeling, huffing as she closed her eyes. “Get up,” Noob spoke firm.
Tenebrae pressed her arms on the ground and found she couldn’t lift herself. “I can’t,” Tenebrae spoke through her rough breathing, “I can’t do it anymore…”
Noob stepped forward and her grouping stepped up and around her. He looked at them and the look in his brother’s eyes. He backed off for the moment and said, “Rest.”
Tenebrae looked up at them and tried to get up again. This time she saw Kabal come down to her and press her shoulders down. She looked up to him and decided to speak to him flat out, “By the way, we’re pregnant.”
Kabal was a bit taken back but asked, “How do you know?”
“My brother decided to perv in on my soul,” Tenebrae huffed out, “He said there was four forming souls inside me. One is tainted…” She breathed deeply and just looked up at him with a slight smile, “I am… rather happy it’s with you…”
Kabal stopped holding her down and instead, picked her up. More or less he was supporting her and dragging her. Liu Kang, Shang Tsung, and Sheeva decided to help, realizing her as a dead weight was too heavy for him to carry alone. They carried her back to their camp, placing her in a clean spot and laying her down. Sub-Zero took watch, making sure Noob wouldn’t move in for more, leading to them just staring at each other from a few yards apart until Noob went to go after someone who’d just entered the NetherRealm. Smoke decided to help her since Noob had decided to be solo for the moment, watching out for others. The rest helped her with regaining her strength, Kabal staying beside her out of the sheer shock of the news.——————————————————–
Deverik smirked and pulled out back to EarthRealm via getting ripped there.
Dahk watched carefully and felt much better. He heard what Terror said to him and as the tranquility was lifted from him, he nodded and said, “I will get much stronger then.” He had Weren help him up and they went both to Dahk’s faction.
A majority of the other siblings that had gathered dispersed, teleporting back to their factions.
Tamereth smiled and saw Deverik get pulled out then. She decided to follow in stride, teleporting back to EarthRealm and instead of hanging with her faction, went to the Shirai Kuei’s to train a bit.
Domme blushed a bit when kissed and she waited to see him leave. Then she would press her mark and teleport away to the EarthRealm.
Sepht placed on the robe and unlike Domme, tried to watch and see what the heck the two were doing. She then was more than happy to get swept up and taken home for the next round of fun.
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Bell’uomo could feel his senses begin to calm, taking off the edge but he stayed wary. He felt even if his senses closed off that he couldn’t relax yet. He checked over the vanilla in his hand, finding no breaks and cracking it open just like her did with the mocha one. The lid popped to his satisfaction but he again drank it carefully. His nerves were quelled for the moment and he could take some time to enjoy what he had in his hand. He looked at the security cameras, looking for the tell tale signs that they were on. He saw the ones that he was trying to stay in sight of were on, he supposed they were on a different system as all the others were off. Someone was really trying to get him. He was persistent in staying in the view of the security around the Starbucks, hoping that just leaving the area for a moment wouldn’t be his death. He kept sipping at the vanilla despite someone sitting down in front of him in regular attire. “Non è come un boss di uscire allo scoperto con il suo vestito migliore. (It isn’t like a boss to come out in the open with his best dress.)” The man spoke casually and sat with him with his own coffee. To Bell’uomo’s relief, he was still in sight of the security camera.
“E ‘a differenza di un killer per sedersi e prendere un caffè con il suo obiettivo. (It is unlike a hitman to sit and have coffee with his target.)” Bell’uomo spoke to the man and took in the details he could. The man was wearing a yellow baseball cap, pulled down to shade the eyes. With their tint in the darkness they were either green or blue. His hair was hidden by a hood over the cap, it must have been short for it to stay under. The hoodie was orange, an unusual color choice just like the cap and then to wear a pair of blue jeans was even odder. This hitman couldn’t of been any more conspicuous and yet no one seemed to notice him.
“Non sei un obiettivo per il momento più. (You are not a target for the moment anymore.)” the hitman sat his fresh brewed coffee on the table and ran a finger around the lid, green gloves making an odd noise, “E ‘solo che non voglio perdere tempo con il nuovo obiettivo. (I just don’t want to bother with the new target.)”
Bell’uomo saw this one was more than willing to talk but before he could ask any more questions, not a sound came out as a bullet passed through the hitman’s head from the side. Bell’uomo stood up and did what a normal human would do and screamed at it, causing an uproar. Other people turned to see the death and screamed and ran, Bell’uomo then cleared his throat and used the panicked crowd as a means of moving onto the nearest just leaving plane. He got in right before the door was closed and found an unused seat. He didn’t even know where the plane was going, but what choice did he have at the moment.————————————————————————————————————
The men designated to track the odd activity used their location settings and followed the bouncing money. They locked onto the computer just as it shut off. The four threw the addresses at one another for comparison to assure they’d tracked down the same person, the addresses matching as they sent it to the hitmen and assassins that were standing by. One of the technicians noted that one of the hitmen approached the former target, they pressed a button to signal one of the others nearby to take that hitman out. They were in the security at the time and saw how the reaction happened but lost sight of their target as he made the crowd panic. They knew they could find him again later, but now the trained killers were gathering and setting up around the designated apartment and waited until the target moved. That was when the trigger would get pulled from as many angles as possible. If that didn’t work, they lined men up in the hallway with uzis. They kept some men in the airport, though, hoping to retrack the old target once the new one was taken out.
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Bell’uomo was more than relieved that Manticore seemed to be taking it as seriously as he was. He decided to leave one more thing to say before he hung up, “Grazie mille, Manticore. Spero che otterremo di nuovo a parlare. Se si riesce a trovare un pacchetto per ciò che è in quella scatola, dare loro fuori. Se non, basta tenerli al sicuro. (Thank you so very much, Manticore. I hope we will get to speak again. If you can find a pack for what is in that box, give them out. If not, just keep them safe.)” With that he hung up and tried to take another sip of what he’d bought, finding it was gone. He sighed and took it to the trash but decided to get more despite the urgency, it was rather calming. He walked back to get into line, he still had some time before he had to get on the plane. He looked at the canister-ed drinks and this time, grabbed a vanilla. He figured if someone was following, they’d assume he’d get a mocha. He also made sure to grab it from the back of the grouping. He paid for it and this time sat near the Starbucks, able to keep his eye on his gate and the area around him. He made sure to sit right in view of all the possible security cameras he could, being in a blind spot could be the end.
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In an unknown part of the Americas, a male of five foot three walks up through rows of men bearing blindfolds and shotguns. The man himself is forced to wear a blindfold, making his blonde hair stick up over it. He felt his toes tap the point of which tells him to stop. He kneels before an unknown boss that he’d worked with for several years. He carefully waited as an array of unknown voices asked to him, “What is it you seek to share?”
The man took a shaken breath and said, “One of the accountants found a unregistered expenditure of five dollars across three or four accounts.”
“Three or four?” The voices answered again in unison, causing the man to shake and hesitate.
“Four,” The man spoke firm this time, hoping to not receive punishment.
The voices were silent for a moment, making the man uneasy. He began to feel hands removing his blindfold, typical of something he’d felt before. As his eyes began to see the world, he could only tell that it was not right. the room he knew to hold chairs and people had appeared to be a vast and dark wasteland with the door standing in the middle of nowhere behind him. He saw the men blindfolded beside him all holding what appeared to his eyes to be living things, their blindfolds bloody and dripping. This made the man all the more uneasy and as he looked forward again, he saw a large creature bound with scales. The hardened flesh was a midnight blue with a lime sheen, the creature sported blood red eyes and fangs that were ready to pierce flesh. The man’s fall for the illusion only worsened with the regal attire the creature wore, dark reds and blacks, frilled and highly decorated with lace and the like. It’s nails touched his chin, he could feel it and the lightest quiver made blood run down. He could never get used to this illusion. The voices came from the single creature, “Fix it.”
The man nodded and he rose, running for the door. They slammed behind him and he could only pant, hating that they always did that. He strode to a central hub and pressed a button, speaking into it, “Trackers 1, 9, 23, and 56, track the pulling of the $20 over the four accounts. Assassins and Hitmen, prepare to move, it should only take them a few minutes…” -
Bell’uomo hid a smirk as he heard Manticore’s voice on the other end. He spoke firmly, “Manticore, è Bell’uomo. (Manticore, it’s Bell’uomo.)” He tried to not convey his urgency to those around him, talking as if it was a normal call of a foreigner to home or the sorts. “Devo chiederti un favore. È molto urgente. Sicario sentiva che prima di me, ma vi è il pericolo che correvano a ovest. Sono presto per salire su un volo di ritorno. Quando si ha il tempo, rompere in casa mia e rubare le chiamate che si trovano nella casella bello in un posto molto evidente. (I need to ask a favor of you. It is highly urgent. Sicario sensed it before I did but there is a danger running around in the west. I am soon to get on a flight home. When you have the time, break into my home and steal the calls that are in the nice box in a very obvious place.)” He glanced at his surroundings and spoke in an oddly calm tone, “Non so se ci parleremo di nuovo dopo questo. (I don’t know if we will speak again after this.)” He took a deep breath and waited for response. He sipped at the coffee and said ‘accidentally’ loud enough to hear, “Questo caffè è buono. (This coffee is good.)”
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Bell’uomo sat on high guard in the airport, his instinct telling him to get out of there. He had nowhere to go so he did something he hoped he wouldn’t regret. He took out his cell phone and dialed the number given to him by the Arcobaleno. He hit the call button as he checked his surroundings, letting it ring. He sipped at his drink as he waited for a possible response. He hid his rushed breath by using the coffee as a calming agent, not taking his eyes off of it even when he was checking around. He made sure to stay out in the crowds, so if something happened it would be noticed and cause a fuss. He knew no one typically wanted a racket, his patience chimed with every ring that would pass as he thought he could hear his own heart beating despite feigning calmness under pressure.
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Bell’uomo sighed as the day was passing slowly, his phone ringing that it was time for his other meeting. He grunted and carefully shoved his loving pet off of his lap. He took out a pet hair roller from a secret compartment in his briefcase and rolled it over his pants. Sicario whimpered as Bell’uomo closed up his briefcase once more and picked it up. “Ho pensato che fosse domani. Mi dispiace, Sicario. (I thought it was tomorrow. I am sorry, Sicario.)” He pet his companion on the head while his ears flopped down. He opened the door as he threw his jacket back on. He quickly moved out of the building and into the limo, feeling there was a reason his dog had whimpered. He closed up the limo fast after checking to make sure the driver was the same. They then rode back to the two buildings.
He exited the limo for only a moment before his instincts told him to get back in. He got back into the limo and called Comcast’s executives, leaving a message that his meeting with them will have to be canceled. He then had the limo driver take him back to the hotel, him running back up to the hotel room and opening up the door. Sicario came running out of the door and went down the stairs. Bell’uomo followed the pooch, and opened the door to the limo. “Airport, now.” He had made sure to check the driver again, closing the door. They were taken to the airport and he swiftly went through getting a new ticket. It would be a while until his flight but he checked in Sicario in his crate then took to the gate he needed to be at when his flight arrived.
He moved with urgency but not showing it to the public. He decided to stop at the starbucks in the airport and bought himself one of the sealed Frappucinos that they sell. He’d be sure that a previously packaged good would be better than getting something fresh. He grabbed one that was Mocha flavored and paid the nice barista. He took to his gate and sat then, letting her keep the change. He checked over the bottle to be sure the glass had no breaks, no holes, no hidden anything. To his relief, there was nothing. He twisted off the cap and heard that sweet popping noise of being perfectly sealed. He’d never had a Mocha one before, usually always Vanilla or regular was what he got. He drank it slowly, daring not to shake it up in case something was on the bottom and using his lip to guard in case something floated on the top. This resulted in an odd brown mustache across his face, which he wiped off with a napkin. He then had to sit and wait patiently and on guard for his flight back to the eastern United States.
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Bell’uomo walked into the meeting room of executives on the top floor, he was expected and had an extra chair out for him. He proceeded to his seat and sat the briefcase on the table. The executives eyed him warily as he just sat in the meeting and listened. The man giving the presentation kept glancing at his eyes. Bell’uomo just leaned on the table, a single hand on his cheek with the knuckles placed against his flesh. He just smiled and listened on knowing that their top dog was going to let him speak up next. He just patiently waited for the end of the questions at the end of the company’s lead Film Pitcher before he looked to the head of Universal Studios. He was given a wave to stand before the company and explain his presence.
He raised from his seat and strode to the front of the room with confidence. He turned and stood before the company and peered back at the charts and graphs behind him. He smirked and looked back at his targets, the sheep before him. He could tell by their quivering looks, they knew they were not as demanding as presence as he was. He took a deep breath and spoke in a commanding voice, “I am sure you are wondering why this stranger standing before you was invited to come speak. Your questions will be answered shortly as I tell you all why I have been offered to share my insight.” He walked over to the graph the film pitcher had been pointing at. He pointed at it and said, “This is highly ineffective.”
“What do you mean?” The man stood, slamming his hands on the table.
“You interrupted,” Bell’uomo’s eyes narrowed on the company’s employee, glaring as he returned to sitting. Bell’uomo pointed at it again and said, “You are wasting your company’s money on paper, which can be put to much better use. Also, the plot of your movie is as dry as a bone that’s been gnawed on for eight years. People want something different and something updated. You are a large and powerful company and yet you are locked in the stone age.” He walked to another’s chart and pointed at it and said, “Demographics for the year, hmn? The chart looks a bit upside-down to me.” A man at the table stood but was pulled down by the head of the company. Bell’uomo chuckled then spoke without amusement, “From what it seems, the idea well is getting dried up and these profits you are predicting? They will plummet.” He shrugged. “Sure people love remakes but what makes them spicy?” Then he pointed at another chart gauging the success predicted from the Fast and Furious franchise. “That is accurate. But again, paper, highly ineffective.” He stood back in the center and said, “I am here to convince your beloved company owner that I could, in fact, do it one step better. I believe I have proven that if I am placed in, your advancements would be phenomenal. I am willing to offer ten million for the entire company and give the previous executive a continuing forty percent cut of the profits.” He stared right back at the company owner, “What do you say?”
The owner of Universal Studios thought for a moment and said, “Impressive. No deal.”
Bell’uomo smirked and said, “That’s fine. I need to head next door anyways.”
“To Comcast?” One of the men spoke up.
“Yes,” Bell’uomo smirked and eyed up the one willing to strike up. “I have a greater offer for them and I know they won’t refuse.”
The men began to chatter, they knew they had to pay Comcast just to keep their name on their own parks. They felt that this man before them was willing to get money from them one way or another. The owner crunched his fist and said, “And what will you be offering them?”
“Full ownership, to keep running as they are and I take fifty percent of the profit,” Bell’uomo folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, and a say on what goes on but what is secret ownership without showing some support.”
The company owner grunted a bit then caved. “If you give us that offer, we will gladly go under your ownership.”
Bell’uomo smirked and walked back to where he had sat, opening his briefcase and taking out the money he had promised before and a contract. He pointed where to sign and once the etching of the pen was done, he placed the contract into his case and nodded his head. “Thank you for the reconsideration. I hope you all have a pleasant day.” He walked out and noted that the limo was still there. He smirked and climbed into the back, “To the hotel, I will get the other company tomorrow.”
The driver took him to the hotel, Bell’uomo getting out and taking his briefcase with him. When he got to the room, he saw his wolf had already gotten room service for itself and eaten. Bell’uomo smirked and pet him on the head. “How did you manage that one?” The response he got was a lick on the face. This made him smile and he placed the briefcase into the safe in the room. He ordered room service for himself, deciding to stay in. He got onto the bed and instantly his furry companion got up and laid himself on his owner’s lap. This only made him smile to be trapped under his only true friend.