hell is empty;

and all the devils are here in the city of angels federico di angelo. 34. arms dealer & security guard

[federicodiangelo-blog]

atlasarrington:

Drew mulled over whether or not the stranger could be an associate of Mr.Ada. He appeared far too comfortable to be a fresh-faced newcomer yet too unknown to be considered a regular visitor of the Empire. She had never seen him before, but then again, various types of bizarre personas emerged from the casino all the time that she never would have predicted frequently visited it in their spare time. “Yeah, they can get pretty brutal whenever someone blocks their shot. Before you know it, fists fly and paps are the first to shriek about calling their lawyer. Good thing you’re keeping your distance, though.” She scrutinized the unfamiliar man before her as he sported a Cheshire smirk and found herself wanting to smile out of amusement. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe. Camera shy people normally don’t admit that they are so easily.”

Well, wasn’t she clever. Federico shrugged easily, his voice light. “Ah, maybe you’re right.” Not much of an answer, but it was all she was getting. His eyes flicked again to the scene outside; another limo was pulling in and another wave of excitement was sweeping over the herd. Through the glass, he couldn’t hear the clicking of shudders or individual questions, but he could hear voices raised to shouts, each desperate to be heard first. “Jesus.” His hand moved to the small portable radio all guards carried, ready to call in backup if necessary. Still keeping an eye on the paparazzi, he added, “It’s not usually like this — It’s all because of that fire.”

[federicodiangelo-blog]

thornofarosalie:

Rolling her eyes, she simply crossed one leg over the other and gazed around the room, watching nonchalantly as flashbulbs popped in their direction, capturing her every movement. She could almost even make out “ROSALIE!” through the glass, constant screams that called for her attention and her acknowledgement. Well fuck them all, they were the reason she hadn’t been able to get any sleep. There was one picture of her crying on the night of the fire and of course everyone wanted to know why; or maybe it was from the brief moment she grabbed Miles’ face and planted a rough kiss on his lips. Either way she wasn’t sure and it didn’t matter now. She was endlessly fascinating and she knew it and instead of writing numerous articles glorifying her, the media instead chose to intrude into her personal life and inundate her with interview requests. Well she was done and tired of it all.

“Yeah whatever, that’s what everyone says,” she muttered in response to his declarations of disavowing fame. Leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand, she blinked her eyes wide for a moment, letting the room around her focus as one object followed the other into clarity. “You’re just another Hollywood spring chicken looking for attention to fall into your lap,” she rambled. “Well join the club. I’ve already fucked everyone in it, but I don’t know you yet– remind me again, who are you again…? Do you have a name or would you rather be that creepy dude who lurks in the Empire? Can you grab us a drink?” she asked him, not missing a beat as each question followed the next before she decided to wave down the concierge herself in impatience with a flailing flick of her wrist. “Drinks please– I don’t care how you get them, just get me a bottle of Rosé, now,” she slurred, ignoring the look of disbelief on the young concierge’s face. Turning back to the mystery man, she cocked an eyebrow.

“Tell me whether or you like Rosé or not. It’s a very…important…….question….” 

Almost wincing at the flashing bulbs, Federico drew back to an angle that seemed to block him from the cameras. Distracting him from the edging concern was the woman’s vapid ramblings. If she tried to talk to the press in this state, they were in for a surprise. Not able to get a word in edgewise until she sent the concierge away, he nearly laughed before managing to formulate a response. “I work here. Security.” If she’d missed that fact, it was safe enough to assume she would forget soon enough that an inquiry about his name was slipped into the torrent of questions. Then again, the only obvious indicator of his position was the radio clipped to his belt. He was just an anonymous face among the many that filled the rooms of the Empire.

At her final question, Federico was startled into half a smile. God, this girl. He could suddenly picture her and Miles — while he’d never followed the gossip, it was all too easy to picture the two of them. Almost a shame they’d broken up. “So you see why I can’t have a drink with you right now.” Technically, Rosalie probably shouldn’t have anything to drink right now either, he mused, but years of selling that same madness had quietly euthanized any instinct to stop her. And there wasn’t any harm in at least giving her one straight answer. “Very important? Well then,” he joked. “I’ll go with ‘yes.’”

[federicodiangelo-blog]

jaxandaces:

“Don’t be bitter, Fede. Your dayjob isn’t bad compared to what the rest of us have to deal with.” A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Very few do. He doesn’t trust Federico, but then again, he doesn’t trust anyone in this place, not Miles, not Katerina — at times, not even himself. To be ever vigilant, always critical, never accepting a gift without wrenching the mouth open, staring into that maw of unsurety…a tiring ordeal for another has always been inherent in him. He notices the way the other man’s expression darkens, and chuckling into the edge of his glass, takes another fast, hard gulp. “You two would go well together, you know. If she and Alfonso weren’t a package deal, you might even have room to wriggle in.” A casual question, he doesn’t care about propriety, and he’s buzzed. He doesn’t like being Jasper when he’s buzzed. “Ever tried it?” His voice drops in mock scandal. “A threesome?” 

There was something off-putting about each of the Grays, but Jax, mercurial and arrogant, was the one he was forced to put up with regularly. As easy as it would be to respond with rancor, Federico reminded himself reluctantly that Jax was still more useful — and safer — as something vaguely like an ally. Still, the comment boiled. (Always better at lying to others than to himself, it had taken Federico some work to convince himself that whatever the fuck Alfonso had with Araminta was relatively low on the reasons he disliked the underboss.) “Is there something you wanted?” he asked shortly, ignoring the man’s attempt to get under his skin. “Besides ask about my sex life. I am working, you realize?” 

[federicodiangelo-blog]

atlasarrington:

The Empire was the definition of pandemonium, photographers and reporters alike pouncing on any affluent figure well-known in the media that infiltrated the legendary casino. Called into work earlier that morning amongst the havoc, Drew decided it was high time to take a five minute break from scrubbing the windows of the gaming areas to casually study the warped profiles below. Who knew one party could cause such pure mayhem? It was distributing how far the press were willing to go as a means to find out the sacred details of what had occurred on Hell Night. Not wanting to relive those horrible memories, she was almost thankful when she overheard the man’s murmur. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse than that today. This one idiot nearly broke his neck trying to get a picture of  Mr. Adalfieri, so I’d be careful if I were you,” she warned him with a pointed finger.

The woman who spoke to him was unfamiliar, though that wasn’t surprising — workers came and went from the Empire at an exceptionally high rate. Those who weren’t (directly) on the Angel’s payroll were sent away at a moment’s notice, often with a heftier-than-usual severance package to ensure silence. That was, of course, the best case scenario. Alfonso, and Luca before him, knew how to ensure silence. Whatever pap had tried so hard to get a picture of the underboss would probably come by a broken neck one way or another. (Pettily, it did entertain him a bit to imagine how miserable Alfonso must be with the press hounding his steps.) “Careful of what, getting between them and their targets? Don’t worry, I’m keeping my distance.” Federico smirked. “I’m camera-shy.”

[federicodiangelo-blog]

nathanielives:

“The power is out,” Nate called to an approaching figure as he exited his usual coffee shop sans any sort of caffeine. His head still hurt from the night before, now a fuzzy memory of cheshire cats, psychedelic tea, and hungry orange flames, and smiling was quite the effort without his morning coffee. “So unless you want water, tough luck. That fire, er - Hell Night must’ve knocked down a power line or something. Know any good coffee places around?”

Normally Federico would never bother to go out for coffee when the machine in his apartment worked just fine, but after his absence, he needed to feel the streets of Los Angeles again. Technically he was laying low, telling himself he’d only leave for work and other necessities for the next few days, but there couldn’t be any harm in a short walk to get some coffee. Or try to get some coffee he thought, groaning at the other man’s remark. “No, but you can check any street corner if you’re willing to settle for a chain. The fire’s stopped the presses all over the city,and now it’s taking out coffeeshops.”

[federicodiangelo-blog]

 unyieldingpiper:

     There was a lengthy delay of panic as smoke clouded her vision, and soon enough her lungs gave way and she breathed in. The smoke instantly made it’s presence known, engulfing her airways and coursing through her lungs. That was when her body caved to the inevitable; reflex. Coughing profusely, her eyes watered even more so as the smoke caused irritation. With a hand covering her mouth, her physical overwhelmed her. Piper could barely comprehend the question she’d asked, let alone the answers Federico had given.       Her body decided to survive; Piper wanted to live. 

     The drugs that had taken over her core did not inhibit her from making her escape with Federico, bending over as she ran so as to avoid the thickness of the smoke at her usual height. And with one last glance back at the blazing fire behind her, Piper left behind those memories once more — refusing to bring them back into the world with her.       The coughing faltered to stop as they made their way outside, noting the flurry of several voices and bodies running around her. They were, however, one of the last few left to escape. How long had she been standing there? Was she to thank Federico for.. waking her up?       “What the hell was that?” 

They both made it out before the vast front doors of the Lotus slammed shut and, as far as Federico could tell, neither had sustained any real injuries. So there was something to be thankful for, even as his mind was skipping two, three steps ahead in dread (a fire like this would draw attention — police, reporters; everyone’s eyes on the night of madness).

It took a few moments before he could answer the question, his throat dry and searing from the smoke. More than that, he was trying to reconstruct the moments before the inferno in his mind. The cake, the lithe figures in twisted Wonderland dressing... then hellfire, without a moment’s warning.

“Don’t know,” Federico replied, his voice too hoarse to manage longer sentences. “i couldn’t see, but —” He was stopped again by a spasm of coughing, trying desperately to clear out the remnants of the fumes. Some guests, he noted, had already started some kind of makeshift bar in the garden. There was the kind of initiative he could get behind. “But I’m betting it wasn’t an accident.”

What the hell it was... he couldn’t imagine. An act of revenge? An incitement of war? His head was still pulsing, thoughts swimming fitfully.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he added wryly.

[federicodiangelo-blog]

Have you ever wished you never left your hometown?

“Maybe I have at some point, but I sure as hell don't anymore.”

[federicodiangelo-blog]

thornofarosalie:

Swaying on her feet, Rosalie’s entrance into the foyer was not without a million igniting cameras. Though she tried in artificial modesty to conceal any hint of a smile, one could tell from afar that  though her lips were hidden behind her hand, she enjoyed the attention, the whispers, the vested interest in her. She enjoyed every minute of it. High on the painkillers and anxiety medications that her therapist had prescribed in order to cure the migraines she had constantly complained of since the night from Hell, she had to take a moment to sit down. Plopping down on the couch, she lifted the sunglasses off of her face and turned to the person she found herself sitting squarely beside, her crossed leg nudging theirs ever so slightly.

“Wait until they see you sitting beside me,” she said with a smirk, leaning back as she waited for her head to stop throbbing. A moment passed before she thought better of her own remark and turned her attention to him fully. “I’d apologize in advance, but we’re in Hollywood and who doesn’t want to be famous? You can thank me later.”

It wasn’t so much dread as a sense of weary resignation that Federico felt when the very object of the paparazzi’s attention approached him. He recognized her at once; you couldn’t not in Los Angeles. Rosalie Faulkner. The diva seemed to be considered some kind of dark counterpart to Katerina’s radiant mask — the irony there was tangible. She was obviously high, her gait unsteady and, when she removed her sunglasses, her pupils blown wide in her dark eyes. He moved away from her at once, calculating that even if she registered the action as rudeness, he would be entirely forgotten in no time at all.

“I’ll pass, sweetheart,” he said coolly. “Not everyone’s after the spotlight.” And some people avoided it at all possible cost. If Alfonso had done anything right, it was his enforcement in keeping uninvited press out of the Empire, but that couldn’t fight those who clawed for the limelight as if they needed it to breathe.

[federicodiangelo-blog]

Have you ever wanted to kill someone?

“I have and I do. Or maybe it’s better to say that I’ve wanted people to be killed. I make the guns, don’t pull the trigger. Until I have to.”

[federicodiangelo-blog]

have you ever been told you're hot by a complete stranger?

“It’s happened. By a completely drunk stranger, but still.”

[federicodiangelo-blog]

Have you ever wanted to hurt another Killer Angel?

“I feel like this is a loaded question, coming from my boss.”

[federicodiangelo-blog]

jaxandaces:

              “A good time to be a nobody, isn’t it? It must work out for you.” Jax, who had been leaning against a banister hidden in the shadow of the alcove, doesn’t raise his head when Federico’s steps sound behind him. But he does turn after a moment of observation of the figures down below, a glass of scotch in hand — it was a near constant fixture ever since March Madness. The Empire was fortress for their kind, possibly the only place where a search warrant could go through hell and still prove futile. “Though I heard that Araminta took a fall for your ‘fame’ that night. Literally. Trouble with the cops, yeah? Maybe it’s time for a new hairstyle. Tinted contacts…perpetual sunglasses. You know, the like.” A smile, not quite warm. “I can hook you up with a plastic surgeon if all else fails. Nose job. Botox. Breast implants. Whatever you want.”

“What, not embarrassed to be seen talking to the help?” Of course. It was probably just as well that the full extent of Federico’s involvement with the casino was working there, because his luck was fucking terrible. Sure, Jax had proven not totally useless when the fire broke out, that didn’t mean he didn’t despise the police chief’s son. And it certainly didn’t mean he trusted him. “Yes, everything’s coming up roses and all that shit.” At Jax’s comment about Araminta, the good humor, falsified to begin with, died abruptly.His eyes darkened, the line of his mouth tightening distinctly.  “Don’t you have games to play? If you’re looking for company, I’m sure there are plenty of girls you could pay to laugh at your jokes.” 

[musingmond-blog]

                                               I do not fear DEATH.              To have lived an empty life like there was no point in being born                                          …that is what I fear most.

[federicodiangelo-blog]

Federico had never been so glad there was a separate casino staff entrance at the Empire than he was in the days following “Hell Night.” The main door was swarming with paparazzi, descending like vultures upon any likely-seeming patron. One such guest was entering, igniting a tumult of flashing bulbs and shouted questions audible from his post within the foyer.

“Fucking relentless,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

[federicodiangelo-blog]

hc + family

federico’s never been particularly concerned with finding out the identity of his father. a man he’s never met, who would have no idea he exists, has no real relevance in his life. when he was younger, questions occasionally crossed his mind, but they never weighed on him too heavily.

[federicodiangelo-blog]

hc alleys

as a kid, fede henry loved to explore the alleyways of his neighborhood and beyond, having no one around to stop him. it was a bit of adventure and freedom for a kid without access to anything better. as he got older, alleys became places of business, and he couldn’t understand how he’d ever been so naive to play in them fearlessly.

[federicodiangelo-blog]

hc + selfies

fede has an unerring ability to end up in the background of people's selfies, especially at the Empire. he fucking hates this, but you can't fight fate.