The Loose Cannon

Alessandro Vitelli - 30 - Vampire

[alessandroxvitelli]

HEY, i think i just saw ALESSANDRO VITELLI walking down the strip. stop by to catch up and you’ll learn the THIRTY ONE YEAR OLD is working as the DON OF THE VITELLI FAMILY and lives in THE VITELLI FAMILY ESTATE. given they are CHARISMATIC but IMPULSIVE, it’s likely that they ARE a vampire. on the flipside, rumor has it that DURING ONE OF HIS MOMENTS OF ACTING OUT FOR ATTENTION FROM THE SNAKE CHARMER TOOK ONE OF THE FAMILY CARS FOR A NIGHT ON THE STRIP AND THEN WHILE SPEEDING, HIT A FAMILY’S CAR KILLING THEM ALL and it keeps them looking over their shoulder. i bet you can find them tearing up the dance floor to RAZZLE DAZZLE BY RICHARD GERE and you’ll know why they’re called THE LOOSE CANNON.  ☾ .⭒˚nicholas galitzine. cismale, he/him/his. homosexual + aries. (Devin, 27, He/Him/His, EST )

BASICS.

name — Alessandro Vitelli 

nick names — Sandro, Alesso 

titles & alias’ — Don of the Vitelli Family, Membre of the Vitelli Charity Board, Underboss (Former), Capo (Former), Bartender (Former)

gender — Cis Man

pronouns — He/Him/His 

romantic & sexual orientation — Homoromantic & Homosexual 

birthday — March 27th, 1966

age — 31

place of birth — 

current residence — Las Vegas, Nevada, USA

PERSONALITY.

positive traits — charismatic, brave, bold, athletic, & loyal

negative traits —  impulsive, hot headed, vain, arrogant, & indulgent

likes  —  money, cars, suits, compliments, power, authority, & showing off his status

dislikes  — manual labor, objectification, being ignored, being forgotten, & being disrespected

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

eye color — Hazel

hair color — Brunette (Naturally) Currently Blonde (Dyed)

hair style — wore in multiple different styles but usually, in a classic men’s style 

complexion — Pale

build — Muscular

height — 6’0

clothing — suits. 

accessories & jewelry — owns multiple watches, and rings. has one ear pierced. 

faceclaim — Nicholas Galitzine

BACKSTORY: tw: Mentions of drug use, alcohol, murder, & prostitution

Alessandro was adopted when he was about 6 months old. The Vitellis are the only family he has ever known. He has made no efforts and has no interests in finding out about his birth family. 

Growing up practically no one told him the words no, ever. He became accustomed to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. Something that would later come to cause Alessandro to be a pain to the rest of the family. 

He was a charismatic child; he was very good at smiling, even better at charming people. It was easy for him to wrap people around his fingers and get them to do what he wanted. 

As he got older, Augustu gave Alessandro more and more responsibility within the family. When he was promoted to Underboss when he was 27, it was arranged that he would become a Vampire. A gift, so that he could contribute more to the family, he saw it as a way to stay younger, longer. 

He was the clear heir, until people began to ask whether he was really fit for leadership. 

Others began to realize Alessandro’s many flaws behind the dazzling smile. He was impulsive, quick to anger, his work could be sloppy, and worst of all, he was egotistical and vain and thought far too highly of himself. 

Augustu was willing to overlook the clubbing, the drinking, and the indulging in drugs; he gave Alessandro chance after chance, until the things Alessandro was doing became too big to overlook. 

First was him losing a considerable amount of product that cost a lot of profit, next was when he killed the wrong target, and the mess was almost too bad for the cleaners, then he made headlines streaking down the Vegas Strip with Vitelli Prince written on his chest, and finally, came one of the biggest fuck ups. 

While on one of his drunken and high binges on the Vegas Strip, driving one of the Vitelli cars far too fast and far too recklessly, he t-boned another car. Alessandro was fine, but the other car was filled with a family of 6, and none of them made it. It took a lot of favors and a lot of pull, but Augustu managed to get Alessandro out of it. 

It was the final gift. The final favor. The final thing Alessandro would get from him. He was stripped of his title of Underboss and made a Capo in name only. He’d have no pull, no say, and almost no place in business decisions. His allowance was cut by more than half.

Since being cut out of the Family affairs, Alessandro has found work as a Bartender at Cupid’s Arrow Drag Queen Club. He thinks the manual labor is demeaning, he hates having to serve others, and he hates how he has to work shirtless, finding being objectified as he has done to so many others humiliating. Still, it pays well enough, and he makes decent tips. Maybe if he can prove to his father that he can work such a menial, hands-on job, he’ll be invited back into his good graces.

Efforts of getting into Augustu's good graces failed, and after a chaotic night during a very potent full moon at a farm, his adopted father had had enough. He fully cut Alessandro off from the family. Alessandro ended up losing his penthouse, and the luxury cars in his collection ended up being reposesed on Augustu's orders.

Moving into the trailer park, money became tight, and Alessandro through someone he met at the bar turned to selling his body for cash. He hated it, he was a Prince reduced to a prostitute. By the end of the month, he desperately went crawling back to his father, begging for forgiveness.

While he would not be welcomed back with open arms right away, Augustu told him, that if he agreed to go to an out of state rehabilitation and wellness center, and he made serious efforts to not be in Augustu's words, "such a fuck up" then he would be willing to look into a place fro Alessandro with the family again.

For around the [ast 2 months, Alessandro has gone through a highly intensive program, where the only person he has been allowed to speak with is Augustu. His father has deemed him ready to come back into the fold.

Appointing Alessandro to the Vitelli Family Charity Board to help with his image, Alessandro is not allowed to touch alcohol, cigarettes, or drugs. He is expected to remain celibate, and fully clothed in public. To ensure this Augustu is only allowing Alessandro to live in the family estate where his room and be monitored and searched, and is having him shadowed whenever he leaves the family estate.

In an effort to display some control over his life, Alessandro is currently dying his hair blonde. However, the image consultant they hired to advise for him said it makes him seem more approachable.

STATS:

guile. ●●●●○ 4/5

intellect. ●●●○○ 3/5

hand-to-hand combat. ●●●●○ 4/5

precision and accuracy. ●●●○○ 3/5

scare meter. ●●●○○ 3/5

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro did not know how he ended up helping in the hog-catching contest. Well, actually, he did. It was a dare he had gotten from Boris, something about showing off the physical prowess of the new Don. Alessandro would never back down from a dare or miss the chance to show off, and so naturally, this felt like the perfect thing to do, despite hating getting dirty and farm animals. He watched as a team member got the lasso around the hog, and then immediately said something about what something was.

Clearly, they must have been distracted by whatever it was because they let go of the rope, and the hog, now free, decided that it was going to take out its annoyance on Alessandro. Feeling as the hog rammed into his body, Alessandro tripped over the ropes that they had out to lasso the animal, and fell face-first into the mud, growling as he tried to push himself up, the muck covering his hands. Why did this always happen to him when he was anywhere near farm animals? He felt someone kneel close by and ask if he was ok, nodding his head, he went to sit up and suddenly felt...weightless?? How fucking strong was this person? And then he saw that actually both he, and this fucking hog were flying up into a beam?? "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the fuck!! HEY GUYS!! Get me the FUCK down from here??" He was panicked and worried, and didn't know what the hell was going on, but he had no intentions of finding out what was happening.

[ofdesertroses]

he must be really fucking high. like not regular high, but that kind of cheech and chong high. the one where they're driving in the car and they can barely see out the window type. if he's not high, then why is he seeing two things he never thought he see in his life.

what he believes to be a ufo and a damn fucking flying pig. does this mean the world is about to end??? jesus h christ. if he wasn't too high, dakota would actually try to think logically about what he was seeing. but any type of logic was out the door; especially now that he was flying in the air. somehow he had gotten entangled with the pig and the other man. a man who he knows as the new don of the vitellis, alessandro. how can anyone miss him after having to stare at his billboard each time they go anywhere it vegas. that was besides the point. no the situation at hand. he can worry about the other's ego after both their feet are on the ground.

while alessandro is screaming to be helped down from the rope, from the ufo beam taking them up from the ground, dakota is enjoying him. "weeee!" he starts to screech as they get further off the ground. "dude you gotta chill, man. this is actually lot of fun!!" he shouts, laughing the whole time as he does so. he's quite enjoying himself and one can tell as he throws his head back in laughter. "don't help us! we're fine, guys! just let us enjoy the ride, dudes!!" he shouts down at the others, turning his head to look towards them. he does get a tad dizzy doing so, but he collects himself and goes back to holding onto the rope.

any sane, logical, man would probably let go of the rope. but dakota??? well shit. he's not logical in this moment, nor does he want to be. he's having fun flying up in the air towards the ufo. he's literally screaming in excitement as they get higher and higher off the ground. deep down he knew he should've let go of the rope. however, he made his choice. there's no going back now.

"shit i agree with that woman in that alien movie." he tells alessandro. "i hope they bring back elvis!"

yeah. this will probably end well. hopefully.

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro has no clue what the other person is talking about or exactly where he had come from. So he was making the executive decision to ignore both him and the hog. If the other wanted to go up into the ship with Porky the Pig, then let it be on him. The only intention Alessandro had? Getting back down onto the ground. So, watching as the two others floated higher up, the man, accepting this fate for some reason, and the poor hog, while helpless, Alessandro did not want to risk the extra weight of the pig making it harder to escape this. So there was Alessandro, who was wiggling and fighting to get back down to the ground, and eventually that was what happened.

It seemed as if the ground was once again so much closer, stretching his arms out to grab at anything he could. And then he realized, he wasn't going down. He had just managed to flip himself upside down. Growling a little, he waved his arms now that they were closer to the people still on the ground.

"Come on! Grab me, please! Get me outta this!" He really did not want to find out more about these aliens or this UFO. "Get me outta this, and I'll cut a check. Ten..... no fuck it, twenty thousand dollars. Cash even! Just get me the fuck outta this. Whatever the fuck it is."

[outlcws]

with: @alessandroxvitelli where: outside glitter gulch lounge when: anytime during the event

Boris couldn't shake the feeling that he was pissing his time away when he could be doing something better. Namely, getting wasted in a bar that wasn't celebrating this rodeo shit somewhere else along the Strip. When he'd first been called to come along, he had presumed it would be to talk about the changing of the guard for the second time in a few short months.

Truth be told, the capo had respected Francisco more than Alessandro, and the man was the one to approach him with the prospect of jumping over several titles from dirty citizen to a high rank. He recognized the achievements laid out in his past, and of course, the pyrotechnics expert had his ulterior motives for accepting the position. Briar needed a good cover, once he had found out what she was really up to. It pissed him off, but he had to make do.

Now, it looked like it was a sham field dressed for the fucking cowboy cosplay. If the spectacle of two grown men with their dicks out ( Edward and Alessandro, to be exact ) wasn't embarrassing enough, then playing the role of a stand-in bodyguard for the night was virtually demeaning to the promotion he'd been avowed. By now, the capo had busied himself with picking dirt from underneath his fingernails with the blade of a knife, and an idea hatched itself, borne from the aforementioned contest.

"People will be wanting to know that the new don is formidable, going from councilman to charity board chair," and he was, of course, referring to Francisco's place with City Hall, before he took a bullet between the eyes, "Roping in farm animals that weigh more than you is a good show of that? You will seem..." He paused, searching for a word that was foreign to him. "Person of the people." That wasn't precise, but close enough. "You should sign up, yes?"

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro's arms were folded, forearms and chest on display because of the short sleeves, and the shirt being undone, though what was in the shirt was barely hidden with just how tight Alessandro had gone with. He scoffed a little when Boris implied that somehow Francisco had been more imposing than him.

"Boris, love, darling.....politicians are mostly known for being corrupt, and old. Charity is known for helping people. That and I have also been helping out with a youth soccer team, and then obviously I have my bill boards. People know I am fit, and hot, and have good musculature." Better than Franco, that was for sure. After all, Alessandro had, shockingly, not been the one to take a bullet; may his brother rest in peace. Still, when Boris mentioned the idea of wrangling the animal, he nodded. It would be a way to show off that these guns were not just for show.

"Could be fun, yeah. Wrangling the boar. But Boris, I hope you don't think I am going to entertain your ideas for free." Grinning. "You're fun for someone your age, you wanna make a bet of it? Really have a good time, gambling at the rodeo with your boss?"

[edward-weiss]

If they’re defining the parameters of rudeness, he’d like to suggest touching people without permission should be on the list, but he’d have to relocate the ability to speak first. Edward could kill Alessandro for this; while it isn’t a new sentiment - rarely does a day pass where the thought doesn’t surface idly - having his chin tipped up and forced into eye contact only strengthens his resolve. It’s a boundary anyone else would lose their hands for crossing, and he can feel the spike of fury in his chest, the ice settling in his veins, the way his initially flustered expression hardens into a glare. Yes, he thinks, as his eyes furiously search Alessandro’s, close enough to count each eyelash. It would be easy to kill you.

He should write him off. Should dismiss him as a nuisance who will be dead before the bodies of his father and brother have even fully turned cold. Should suggest that someone ought to be expanding the Vitelli burial plot as they speak to accommodate the size of his ego.

What he shouldn’t do is spit at him.

He’s not proud of it - fine, maybe a little bit proud - when he does precisely that, barely deliberating before gathering up the saliva and directing it at Alessandro’s unbearably smug face. It’s disgusting, but unlike Alessandro, it’s far from a calculated provocation; merely an attempt to cause enough shock, enough outrage, to fracture the moment and hopefully buy himself a chance to slip free of his grip. Also, it’s very easy to be vile; whatever reinventions he’s worn throughout his time in Las Vegas - scrappy newcomer to divisive public figure - he’s still, at his core, a graceless child of poverty and war. A man who knows exactly how to get down in the dirt with people because it’s where he started. He grew up spitting at men in pubs he was too young to even be in, brawling with anyone twice his size just to prove he could. That same temper still exists - he acts like he’s mastered it, but some things are automatic. 

Spitting is automatic. The bitter laugh that follows is automatic. The cruel words his brain drags up are automatic.

“And it’s fucking rude to exist when nobody wants you, yet here you are. That’s what your life is, isn’t it? Fuck-up after endless fuck-up. Unwanted everywhere you go.” My life has gotten so much better since he was put down there. Edward wants to pull that thread, wants to ask what the fuck it could possibly mean, but it’s easier to treat Vitelli’s as one-dimensional, unfeeling creatures - if he considers that they grieve the same way anyone grieves, that they’re messy and complicated, it humanises them. Which makes it harder to kill them - and he won’t allow it. Point-blank refuses to feel anything but satisfaction when they drop dead.

Incredulous at the notion of them working together, he laughs again - breathless, stunned, genuinely fucking perplexed that a Vitelli would even suggest it. “Bury other things? You think we should stop fighting?” It has to be a fever dream, or perhaps Alessandro has somehow managed to slip beneath the bar Edward held for his intelligence, which would be a remarkable feat considering the bar was on the ground. Working together. Christ. The jokes really do write themselves. He’s clawed his way to the top, crossed lines he knows he cannot uncross, forfeited humanity for the sake of his empire - an empire he refuses to share with Alessandro Vitelli, or lose to Alessandro Vitelli. The sting of defeat would’ve been different with his predecessors, because at least there would be a faint thread of respect, some brutal honour in dying at their hands. He doesn’t have that respect for Alessandro.

“Do you really think I’d believe any of that coming from a Vitelli? As if you wouldn’t just wait for me to agree, kill me, and take fucking everything. Or maybe it’s self-preservation. You’re looking for peace now because you’re in charge - which is fucking hysterical, by the way, that anyone would put you in charge of anything - and you know you’ll be the next one in the ground. So you’re scrambling around trying to save yourself.”

He’s noticed the billboard - considered vandalising it, too. Hearing it mentioned again earns a roll of his eyes; he knows this war will be about publicity and perception, a battle in the media just as much as a battle in the streets. Edward’s going to have to dig deep to try and convince people he has even an iota of charisma - that Alessandro doesn’t fucking eclipse him with charm, but he’ll play nicer to the press than he has in his entire fucking life if it keeps the boat from sinking.

“Some of us don’t need billboards to convince ourselves we matter. Success tends to speak for itself.”  He doesn’t know how to say that, if his face ended up on a billboard, people would assume Halloween had arrived early. Alessandro charms people. Edward inspires a sense of dread.  “Beyond billboards, what have you actually achieved?”

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro was expecting to be verbally put down, threatened, or even punched. He did not expect Edward Weiss to spit in his face. Yet, that was exactly what had happened. The older man had spat squarely in his face. Feeling the saliva slide down his face, Alessandro felt a heat in his stomach; he felt himself getting angry, and then he forced a smile on his face. That was what Edward wanted; he wanted Alessandro to get angry, act insane, to make a scene, to fail. He had heard it all his life, and he wasn't going to give them that; he wasn't going to give Edward that. Smiling, he used his middle finger to swipe where the spit was on his face, flipping off Edward in the process, and then, casually and without pause, slid the finger into his mouth, sucking the spit off of it. It was disgusting, Alessandro knew that it was. But it would throw off Edward, and if he kept him off balance, he kept the upper hand in this conversation.

Listening as the other began telling him how he was a fuck up that no one wanted around. That some people's success spoke for itself. That they didn't need billboards. He chuckled at the idea of what he had actually achieved. As if Edward would understand what he had accomplished.

"Well, I made it to fucking Don of the Vitelli Family, you know, the family people actually care about. And what makes that a success is that I clawed back from nothing. Being disowned, cut off, and abandoned by my own family. Here I am. I'm a fucking survivor, Eddie boy. I'm willing to do what it takes to get what I want. I'm a fucking tiger."

[alessandroxvitelli]

for: @ofdesertroses where: Glitter Gulch Lounge when: May 30th, 1997

Alessandro was at the Glitter Gulch Lounge. He had been eying up a few of the guys when all of a sudden, who should he spot? Spencer Vitelli, his big brother. A grin growing on his face, he made his way over to him and threw an arm around his shoulder, feeling him jump a little.

"Spencer, what the hell are you doing here? You should have said you were going out, I would have come with." As they had gotten older, they saw each other less and less. Now that Alessandro was running things, hr wanted to change that. He wanted to see him more, actually build a brotherly bond, even if they were both older now.

"You try the mechanical bull yet? Or are you planning on jumping in on the hog lassing contest?" Raising a finger as if he had made a realization, he lifted Spencer's arm so that he was flexing it. "Oh no, with these things, you're for sure planning on jumping into the mud wrestling I saw going on out there."

[thesw0rd]

Where: Glittering Gulch With: OPEN When: May 30, 1997

The loss of the territory didn't keep Dominic out of the club. Though the recent peace treaty left his old hangout back open without consequence. Even if it hadn't, he was unlikely to catch anyone's attention tonight.

Dim lights highlighted sweat-slick skin, smoke sticking to those places on contact, shoes sticking to the split liquor on the floor as it dried. He liked grittier places. Something about well put-together people caused an irrational irritation to rumble behind his ears. Nothing quite felt like home the way blood and stale smoke did. Even tonight, with the stupid country theme draping every dancer and drunk girl on the bull, it was more comfortable than most places.

Dom wouldn't be caught dead playing dress up, not that his lack of costume made him stick out. Faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt blended in anywhere.

"I bet the next round your dumb ass can't last two minutes on that fucking thing." He was drunk already, eyes beginning to glaze as he tried to escape the shit show that was his job here lately. He was starting to worry he wouldn't have one soon. At the rate the Vitelli's were going, he'd be out of employees.

With the gesture of his hand, he called over the bartender. It would take her probably another ten minutes to get to him, but that wasn't her fault, and he wasn't about to make his empty glass her problem.

"Shit, a shot just to see you try."

[alessandroxvitelli]

While he was at the Glitter Gulch, Alessandro's eyes landed on Dominic, who was probably one of the biggest guys on the Vitelli payroll. Now that he was Don, well, he wanted to make sure all the people under him liked him and trusted him as their leader. What better way to do that than socialize with them while they were drunk? Alessandro had not even gotten to say hello to him when he was being told that his dumb ass wouldn't last two minutes on the bull. Eyeing up the machine and then looking back at Dominic, he grinned, ready to take the challenge. He let out a small tuting sound at the offer of a shot just to see him try.

"Afraid the new Don doesn't drink, Dom. You'll have to offer me a different incentive to get me up on the bull. Other than my ego, and please not money.....I have more than enough of that. Come on..." Grinning, "Let's get creative. How will you get Alessandro Vitelli onto a mechanical bull?"

[somethignnclever]

Sophia quirks up an eyebrow, allowing him to get his laughter out. She isn't quite sure what she said that was so funny. Truthfully, she's started making assessments before he'd even began talking. Though, she tried to not let perception fool her, it was clear there was some facade he was putting up. For now, she puts it all aside and gets comfortable as he actually starts to speak.

She nods along, a soft smile on her face as he rambles out a few thoughts, downplaying his own misery though she's sure there's something to say for the worried well, that wasn't ever a term she prescribed to. "It depends. Typically, yes," She reassures with a nod of the head. "Everything you tell me is confidential. The only time it's not, and I would have to report, is if you were actively thinking or in the midst of harming yourself or someone else. So... Let's say you call me and you're standing on the ledge of a building, or we're in session and you admit to currently having thoughts and a plan to hurt yourself," She explains further. "Then I would be obligated to call 911." She hopes this explanation puts him at ease and allows him to remain transparent with her, but she understands, as well as anyone, the hesitation.

"Other than that, yes, whatever you say it's between you, me, and these walls." Sophia studies him for a moment, mouth twisting off to the side. "Are you having any delusions? Voices? Anything I should be aware of before we really get into why you're feeling the need to downplay your problems?"

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro sat there, listening to her, taking a drag from the cigarette before putting it out into a fancy glass ashtray he had on the desk. Shockingly, for someone who smoked as much as he did, it was very clean. As if it were rarely used, Alessandro, however, was simply obsessed with keeping things looking clean in his office. Even if he were moving out of this one soon. A soft chuckle leaving his lips at the idea of possibly hurting himself. "Well, you won't have to worry about that then. I have absolutely no plans of hurting myself, Boy Scouts honor." He held up two fingers in a mock salute. "I think I am the only person who wouldn't hurt me running around Las Vegas right now." When he was asking if he was having any delusions, voices or anything like that. He shook his head. "No, no, no voices, other than you know, that little voice everyone has, what do they call it? Your internal monologue? If you think I won't audibly shut up, you should see that thing, it just goes, and goes, and goes. Mostly about fucking good I look, but you know sometimes I do think about other things." Chuckling a little, Alessandro cracked his knuckles and leaned back into his seat.

"I have been surrounded by death lately, my father, my brother....I guess that has been taking a toll on me, somewhat. Neither one of them liked me, I think, I don't know, the men in my family were fucked at showing affection for people. If you can believe it, I am soooo much more adjusted than the two of them ever were."

[sxllout]

It wasn't every day that the rodeo was in town, and tensions had been high at the museum given all the goings-on around the city. So it only made sense to Graham to take the entire crew out for some workplace bonding. He had honestly forgotten who had suggested the bar crawl, but now that he was several beers in, it hardly mattered.

The night had been a blast so far, bouncing around the various bars in Vegas, and now they found themselves at the Glitter Gulch. Someone had bought Graham a shot, which he had surprised even himself by taking, and now he was lined up in pigsty with three others and a lasso in his hand. The next moments were a blur, but an airhorn sounded and he was swinging the lasso through the air. Within moments, and to a huge roar from the crowd, he had hooked a pig and it was in the process of trying to pull away from him. Hand over hand, he pulled the pig closer and closer in, a huge smile on his face even as mud trekked its way up his jeans.

But then a flash appeared overhead, and Graham knew - he knew in his soul - what it was. Suddenly he was three years back, in the desert with old friends... and it was terrifying. His sight went pure white as a beam of light drew his attention up. His jaw and hands went slack. The rope flew from his hands as the hog he had lassoed escaped forward with a squeal, and he slowly raised a hand to point at the sky.

"Uh," he stammered. "What -- what is that?!"

[flytrcps]

To be clear, Ivy was far from a country gal — actually, they'd never been around a farm animal their entire fucking life until today and had taken a crash course in how to play helper for the lasso contest. Their therapist suggested getting out of their comfort zone when they expressed boredom with their monotonous routine, but that it felt unsafe to break the loop of when they went to work and came home. There was the ever lurking possibility that they would encounter the very last person on the planet that they coveted to attract.

Unsurprisingly, mistakes were made. So concentrated as they were on listening for their cue, the blurted query had them stricken with surprise — what the fuck? The round, glowing spacecraft had to be fucking fake, this was some kind of... cowboys and aliens joke, right? As skeptical as they were about the hovercraft, they tore their eyes away. The impact of a hog running right into one of the contestants took precedence over a hillbilly prank.

Jumping the fence, they ran across to the side of Alessandro Vitelli, frowning as they tried to disentangle him from the mess of rope that had wrapped around when the hog had gone flying. The beast was grunting and panting up against Alessandro, and honestly, Ivy felt worse for it than the guy. Pink, permed curls spooled around their shoulder as they knelt down, asking, "Hey, are you okay?"

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro did not know how he ended up helping in the hog-catching contest. Well, actually, he did. It was a dare he had gotten from Boris, something about showing off the physical prowess of the new Don. Alessandro would never back down from a dare or miss the chance to show off, and so naturally, this felt like the perfect thing to do, despite hating getting dirty and farm animals. He watched as a team member got the lasso around the hog, and then immediately said something about what something was.

Clearly, they must have been distracted by whatever it was because they let go of the rope, and the hog, now free, decided that it was going to take out its annoyance on Alessandro. Feeling as the hog rammed into his body, Alessandro tripped over the ropes that they had out to lasso the animal, and fell face-first into the mud, growling as he tried to push himself up, the muck covering his hands. Why did this always happen to him when he was anywhere near farm animals? He felt someone kneel close by and ask if he was ok, nodding his head, he went to sit up and suddenly felt...weightless?? How fucking strong was this person? And then he saw that actually both he, and this fucking hog were flying up into a beam?? "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the fuck!! HEY GUYS!! Get me the FUCK down from here??" He was panicked and worried, and didn't know what the hell was going on, but he had no intentions of finding out what was happening.

[edward-weiss]

Death would be preferable to this. An unusual sentiment for someone usually so determined to live; irritatingly determined, his enemies would attest, after watching him drag himself out of every bespoke grave they’ve tried to push him into, too stubborn to die on anyone's terms but his own. But right now? Edward would happily throw himself back into one of those graves and pull the dirt over his own head. Because Alessandro is telling him not to be afraid of pleasure, telling him the things married men will do with or without their wives knowing, smirking at him - and he's so flustered that his brain - that beautiful, terrible brain - feels like it's malfunctioning.

"If you're trying to get a reaction out of me, it's not going to work. I don't give a fuck what men, married or otherwise, are doing to you." But his face is burning, even as he tries to keep his gaze fixed on the ground as though it’s suddenly the most interesting thing he's ever seen, refusing to look at Alessandro. Is this really how young people talk about relationships? It's so blunt. Back in his day - and fuck, that makes him sound ancient - people wrote love letters. Timidly asked each other out in dance halls. Nobody he knew ever spoke like this.

It occurs to him that beyond, well, the occasional maiming and the minor detail of being a literal crime boss, parts of his life in Sin City are almost strangely virtuous. He barely drinks - associates it with watching his own blood soak into the carpet of his childhood home, his father’s eyes turning glassy as he slipped from tipsy joviality into the sudden conviction that everyone, especially his son, was looking at him the wrong way. He has no exciting social life to speak of beyond the handful of people he tolerates; everyone else is sorted into categories of useful or useless. He doesn't sleep around, isn't one for clubs, rarely gambles. Cigarettes are the only consistent vice - and opening his mouth when he shouldn't. Speaking of which:

“I'm old enough to be your father - is that what this is? You’re looking for a replacement because yours is rotting in the ground?" The suggestion of taking a photo makes him snort - unceremonious and involuntary, as if he wouldn’t sooner sip poison. “Absolutely not. I doubt your ego would even fit in a photograph; they’d have to take the picture from the fucking moon.”

[alessandroxvitelli]

"Am I trying to get a reaction out of you? I mean, Eddie, it's a conversation, I would hope to get something out of you, or else it'll be pretty dull, no?" He smiled more, gums showing. He noticed that Edward wouldn't look at him, gears turning in his head. Was it disgust? Annoyance? Hatred? Boldly, he moved a finger out to reach under his chin and push his face up so that Edward's gaze would meet his. He imagined how many of their men, no doubt all around them, were getting ready to shoot, and how many of his own in response. "It's rude, Edward, to not look at someone when you're talking to them." Pulling his hand away from his face, "But usually the reaction I get from the men, married or otherwise, that I talk to is that they try to hit me in the face with either their fist or their lips. Something, something, I am very good at pulling out the fighter or the lover in someone."

He chuckles when he tries to throw Augustu's death in his face, if that would get a reaction from him. The idea of Edward replacing the father figure role in his life, made Alessandro recoil internally. Not because he hated him, frankly, Alessandro thought that the blood feud between the Vitelli and the Weiss Family should die with Augustu and Franco. They were fighting over something so.....minuscule in the grand scheme of things, working together, they could have...so much more. That, and he thought Edward Weiss was one of the most attractive men he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Exactly. By all means, keep listing things that I like about you. You're right about one thing, though: my father is in the ground. As much as I loved him, fuck, my life has gotten so much better since he was put down there. We should bury other things, along with him, the fighting and the bickering, it's draining resources from us, from you. Las Vegas, sure, it's growing, but....we're not even cracking the five largest cities on the West Coast. Don't you want more? I know the fuck I do." When he hears the snort from Edward, he smiles, not a grin, not arrogant, at just how....nice the sound sounds coming from him. As if it were not followed by insults. "You're probably right. That's why they're putting me up on billboards now. I could talk to the people at Klein, get you one too. Little competition, whose ad gets more people to stop and gawk."

[edward-weiss]

LOCATION: Outside The Glitter Gulch Lounge. WITH: Alessandro Vitelli @alessandroxvitelli

The optics of feuding with someone young enough to be your son are not the vibe; in fact, it’s so embarrassing it genuinely almost seems preferable to lay the entire vendetta to rest rather than feel like an old, bitter man in this equation. Unfortunately, that would require conceding defeat and Edward, in typical Weiss fashion, simply will not.

At least Augustu didn’t flirt - beyond flirting with the idea of whether he’d rather shoot, stab, or poison Edward on any given day, all equally tempting options. But Alessandro Vitelli is flirting. Properly flirting. And he’s so pissed off, so thrown off by the absurdity of the development, that it renders him briefly, uncharacteristically speechless. If it’s a power play, it’s working. There are a million things he wants to say, namely fuck and off in that exact order, but all that ends up coming out is:

“I’m married.”

As if that’s the problem, as if he’s not a Vitelli, as if a wedding ring is the sole barrier keeping these particular star-crossed lovers apart. “And you’re standing way too fucking close to me.”

[alessandroxvitelli]

It was his first major public event since becoming Don, and Alessandro wanted to make a show of it. He wanted to be on theme too, and so wearing cowboy boots, jeans that were just a little too tight, and a short-sleeved button-up flannel, with quite a few buttons undone to show off his chest, and topped with a Stetson. He was the perfect image of a cowboy. His night had started at Cupid's Arrow, having to check in at his old place of employment, where he made sure to buy a round for everyone, unfortunate for the person at the dunk tank. His second stop had been The Doll House, where he tried the two-step, and finally. ending at the Glitter Gulch Lounge, where shockingly, he spotted his....well, now he guessed his rival, Edward Weiss.

Naturally, Alessandro decided to do what everyone would tell him not to and approached. Edward was his wonderfully dull self. Alessandro decided rather than meet him where he was, to try and introduce some of his own charm into the conversation by shamelessly beginning to flirt with Edward. He chuckled when the other retorted that he was married, "So have been half the men I've been with. And half of them, their wives knew that their husbands were going down on me. It's Las Vegas, Eddie boy, Sin City.....don't be afraid of a little sin, a little fun, a little pleasure." Smirking, he looked the other over again, "Am I? I hardly noticed....come on, we should take a picture together for the paper. They'd love it."

[somethignnclever]

Normally, she doesn't do house calls, especially not for male clients. It's not safe, in fact, it's one of the reasons she was so eager to get out of case management. If anything went wrong, which it had in the past, she had no recourse. However, she'd been told he was pretty high priority, and she assumed it meant it was simply house bound despite his current report. Sophia decided it wouldn't hurt to oblige this once, and now she sits across from him in an uncomfortable leather chair.

She offers a smile, a lift of the shoulder. "There are a couple of ways we can start. Uhm, we can start with you giving me your perspective on what led you to therapy, or if you have any questions, first we can start there." She offered two options, broad enough to lead but specific enough to keep them on track. "I tend to try and let my clients lead the way since it's your health, not mine, but if you need a bit more guidance, I can throw out some questions to start us off."

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro nodded his head a little, a smirk on his face. Clearly, she was used to.....types that exhibited his boldness. He laughed when she said that they could start with why he believed that he ended up here in therapy. He laughed so hard he actually needed to wipe at his eye. Did she know anything about the Vitellis? He was curious now, just how much she knew about him before she had even stepped in here, and any preconceived ideas she had about Alessandro.... "Oh, please, Doc, if I rattled off why I thought why I ended up here in therapy....dealing with this....." Waving his hand again, "Stuff, well, we'd never wrap. I was adopted by my father when I was a few months old, and sure, he started out great I guess.....but....fuck....he was a shitty dad." Taking another drag, he grinned...."I know, I know....the rich, pretty boy has daddy issues, and water is wet, and there are twenty-four hours in a day." Raising an eyebrow, "The stuff I tell you.....you can't go running to the cops with it, right?"

[alessandroxvitelli]

Closed Starter: @somethignnclever Where: Alessandro's Office, The Vitelli Manor When: Early May 1997

He took a long drag from the cigerette he was currently smoking, eyeing up the woman sitting across from him. Mental health, really any of his health, had always seemed so...distant and abstract and unimportant. He was clean; he'd been clean for a bit of time now. Yet, still he needed check-ins, he guessed, someone to talk to about all of this....and that was how he ended up opposite.....well fuck if Alessandro remembered her name.....

"Soooo Doc, do I just..." Waving the hand holding the cigarette in a circle, "Tell you what's bothering me, and you listen? Or do you want me to do like breathing exercises? And before you ask, no, I won't piss in a cup for you, I am over having to do that kind of shit."

[mcdesties]

where: the vitelli estate when: march 28th, 1997 who: @alessandroxvitelli

"I'VE ASKED JIMMY TO HANDLE ANY SORT OF STATEMENTS made to press, so at least that is one task taken care of that we don't need to concern ourselves with. I believe he knows exactly how to say a lot without giving out too many details, one skill most attorneys have, no?" It was her attempt at humor, though it managed to fall a bit flat when the current circumstances made nothing feel as if it were a laughing matter. If she thought the large mansion that the Vitelli family held in their own name felt emptier when their stepfather passed away, Franco's absence was even more noticeable from within in the long hallways. If anything, it made her feel her decision to move out before all the drama that had occurred in the last year to be the right one, even if it was partially made out making it easier to keep her relationship with Romi from being picked up on. Now the family home didn't feel the same when so many of the family were missing. "How have you been holding up yourself? I presume I don't have to tell you to make sure you're taking care of yourself while all this is going on, but I hope you are." The last thing Meera wanted was for her stepbrother to feel as an afterthought or abandoned, especially when the past had already been far to littered with such feelings. Huddling closer together had recently proven to be what the family should have been doing all along, over being at each other's throats in the name of who would lead best.

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro chuckled a little. How funny it seemed, a few weeks ago, his brother and sister were fighting for control of the family. Alessandro was entirely sidelined, not even given a chance to make his case on why he should lead. Now, Franco was shot in the head, busy growing a matching pair of fangs. Ironic, they didn't ask him to turn his little brother, which made him curious who the vampire was trusted with that task.

"I could have easily made a statement on it. Talking to the press is second nature for me. Why do you think they love me so much? Funny, they stuck you with me to.....well, we can't exactly say lead as we all know the little brat is coming back. But you'd think they'd at least let you pretend to be Don solo, since you were the favorite to take over." Raising an eyebrow, "Did he take out the hit on the councilman's father before he got blasted? It'd be pretty stupid if he did." Alessandro had been worried about his brother, but after they had been informed of what was going on, his worry had all but gone. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if Franco planned this; he never could settle being less than, and the fact that Alessandro was a vampire and he wasn't probably tortured him.

"Why wouldn't I be taking care of myself? For my birthday yesterday, thank you for wishing me a happy birthday, by the way. I did a photoshoot. I am going to be the regional face of Calvin Klein. Not that any of you probably care." Bringing the glass of water to his lips that he had been drinking, he took a long sip.

"I also bet on the Weiss winning the gang war; they have a pool going over at the Flamingo."

[devxlmaycare]

Raphael couldn’t be sure of what was setting him off. Some combination of the water, the anticipation, the constant denial… or perhaps it was the sight of Alessandro, naked and ready, that drove him wild. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. The command hit Raph’s ears and and his body responded.

A dangerous twinkle sprung to his eyes, and his head tilted down to mask a wolfish grin. What a gift, to be shed of human dignity. A growl started, low in his chest. Something animalistic, something carnal. He stalked forward, leaving his personhood behind. He pressed his nose into Sandro’s chest, his tongue lancing out. He dragged it greedily across the other’s side, pressing the sound directly into his rib cage. A short ruff popped out, only enough to open Raph’s jaw and allow him to nip at the skin. A deeper growl rumbled forth as he dragged his face up under Sandro’s arm, looking for any purchase his teeth could find. He circled behind him, all the while snuffling and humming. Any time his teeth met skin, a deeper, louder bark echoed out. Raphael's fingers clawed out, and he scraped his nails across Sandro's back, ribs, chest as he bit down into the back of his shoulder. His hips rocked forward as he tilted his head back and yowled - a long, loud coyote that echoed through the (presumably) empty showers.

Raphael pressed his body against Sandro's, slipping again under his other arm to press his mouth against his chest, leaving small bite marks on his side along the way. His fingernails clawed down Sandro's back, and the urge to speak was overwhelmed by the need to lick water from his body. Raphael's sounds retreated back to a hungry growl before simmering down to a dogish whimper.

[alessandroxvitelli]

When Alessandro asked for him to bark, he was expecting something quick and hushed, almost ashamed. Instead, Raph put on a whole display and felt brave enough to cover him in licks, bites, and scratches. Each action drawing whimpers and moans. He wasn't quite expecting Raphael to mark him up without explicit permission, but here he was. Fortune, Alessandro supposed, favored the bold. After Raphael got to lick, and bite, and scratch to his body and was finally whimpering against his body again, Alessandro smiled, running his fingers through the shorter man's wet hair. Water was still spraying on the two of them.

"Good boy, such a good boy, Raphael." Gently, he patted his cheek, looking over the other's hairy chest, hands moving down to cup his pecs, squeezing. "Good boys deserve a reward....but you did bite me. Good boys don't bite their owners, though, right? Unless given permission. You didn't ask for that permission, Raphy." Hands moving down his pecs, and tracing his stomach, before one of them wrapped around his hard length, stroking.

"My big boy. My good, big boy. Since you didn't ask for permission to bite me, I won't be getting on my knees and putting this in my mouth." Still stroking him as he spoke, he moved his hand away, flicking the water from Raph's length into his face. "But you still deserve a reward." Taking the older man's wrist into his hand, he guided it around his body and placed it on his ass.

"You can press me against that wall, and fuck me. I'll even let you come inside me. And then you get out of this shower......and walk out of this locker room with nothing but the small towel I have in the side of my gym bag. It should be large enough to cover your cock. And you go home with nothing but that towel on you. I'll know if you don't listen....and I won't be happy if you don't." As he spoke, his hands had moved back to exploring Raphael's body. "Now, are you ready to fuck me?"

[alessandroxvitelli]

With: @boneyardstarters Where: Vegas Strip When: March 24th, 1997

Sunglasses on his face, Alessandro was currently finishing a post-lunch cigarette. Taking a final drag, he threw it on the ground, stepping on it, and then exhaling the smoke. He was currently looking up at a billboard that was being set up near the MGM Grand, grinning. Sure, his brother had just been shot, but... Alessandro had information the public was not privy to, a little bit of plastic surgery, and he'd be fine. He was helping Meera run things, but she had a good head on her shoulders, realistically better than Alessandro's. Leading the family was a temporary position anyway. This billboard, though, that was going to be his. Just his.

Apparently, one of the pictures in the newspaper of him at his father's funeral caught the eye of a few designers, who wanted to use him as a model....one of the faces of the 1997 Calvin Klein Spring Collection, that billboard was going to be him doing just that. When he heard someone speak to him, he snapped out of it, turning to face them, nodding his head.

"Can you believe it? That whole billboard up there is just going to be me? I mean, I've always been told I've had a big head, but now I really am." Still smiling, he paused for a few seconds, realizing this person probably did not approach him about that. "I imagine you probably care more about the other reasons the Vitellis have been in the news, to which I cannot comment on that, at all. So don't even bother. Although I will say this, everyone is fine. We're all good, pinky promise."

[alessandroxvitelli]

Weddings would hardly seem like the best place for work, but....well, if they were both there, why not take a break from watching William Weiss get embarrassed to talk a little charity? Someone had reached out to the Vitelli charity board for a research grant. When Alessandro got back to them, it had turned out they would both be attending the wedding, and so Alessandro suggested they have a pre-meeting there. Smiling as he finally spotted the other, he plopped down into a seat at their table, not really caring if the spot was taken or not.

"Dr. Burke! So good to finally make your acquaintance in person." Leaning forward, he clasped his shoulder, squeezing it. "Alessandro Vitelli, but you were probably more than capable of piecing that together. Don't worry, nothing formal is happening here, just wanted to get a feeler out, put a face to the name, see how much fun you can be."

@bloodyglcry

[hearts-and-hugs]

location: riviera casino & hotel

date: march 25, 1997

@boneyardstarters

The last few days had been quite the whirlwind in the city of Las Vegas. After the assassination at City Hall, it seemed that the Vitelli family had been scrambling to get control of the situation and even though others might think of the PR nightmare it was causing, Celeste couldn't help but feel for the Vitelli family. After all, she knew what it was like to lose someone that you loved. It was horrible and sad and her heart went out to the family. No matter what kind of mess business they were caught up in, they were still people at the end of the day. Everyone had feelings.

Business had seemingly continued as usual at the Casino and even though the staff hadn't been told much about it at all, it was all over the news and it seemed to be all anyone could talk about. "It really is so sad," Celeste said, frowning for a moment as she thought about Franco's demise. "I just hope that the family can mourn in peace. There's so much talk about what will happen next but they just need a moment, ya' know?" Suddenly, she spotted one of her tables from across the dining room and a look of surprise crossed her features. "Oh, shoot! I forgot to put their order in!" She disappeared momentarily as she ran to the bar and apologized for the hundredth time about forgetting to give the drink orders to the bartender. She of course came back to her conversation, though, which was much more pressing to her than her actual job. "Oops," she giggled. "I have got to stop doin' that," she smiled.

[alessandroxvitelli]

Alessandro had decided to get a feel for people's thoughts. What were they thinking? Little Franky getting shot, his big brother and one of their sisters having to step in, all so suddenly after the demise of their father. If the sharks didn't smell blood before, they did now. So he was wearing a rather large pair of sunglasses, along with a much larger Stetson. Bringing the cigarette he was smoking to his lips, he inhaled as Celeste spoke, nodding when she said that she had to go put in another table's order, he grinned a little.

"Yeah....I would reckon that the bosses wouldn't be oh too pleased if you kept forgetting to be putting in there those orders, now." Alessandro was trying to speak with an accent that sounded like it was coming from Texas, but he was so shit at it, he wasn't even believing it. "Real shame about that guy....they said his name was Francis or something. These uhhh Vitellis that are all over yer local news stations.....they are the family that owns all these er casinos. I heard that the real good-looking one, Alexander or something like that, took over now."