never be daunted.

m / 19 / mafia | aph america for hetabungou

[windonthehill-blog]

@generaticn

While Feliciano was generally rather aloof and had his head in the clouds, he did pride himself in doing his job, and doing it well. So when he was told to get some general information on what the mafia was up to, there was no doubt in his mind that he’d do an excellent job. After all, spy work was his specialty! 

So here he was, out and about and on the job. He’d been tailing behind a guy he recognized to be part of the mafia for some time now, always far enough away to not be seen, tracking him with a Kite.

At least, that’s what he had been doing until the guy stopped for lunch at a pizza shop. And pizza sounded really good, so Feliciano decided hey, why not stop for a slice as well?

Somehow he ended up directly behind his target in line, but Feliciano wasn’t about to be bothered by that! Instead he grinned and peered over the guy’s shoulder. “Have you been here before? I’m wondering what to get.”

[generaticn-blog]

Alfred truly never felt like himself until he was in Papa Tony’s. The day just went on in a mindless haze until that lovely smell of fresh dough and burning ovens hit the spot. Once, it was enough to get his power activated. Thankfully, he was currently in the aftermath of a burst, and could find tranquillity in the little shop.

While he was momentarily occupied by an intriguing Buzzfeed article about socks, the voice made itself very known, right up his ear. He jumped with a small exclamation, before laughing. “Sorry! Ya scared me.” 

Then came his understanding of the question. “Oh, man. Um-” For research purposes, bright eyes scanned the menu board quickly. “Well, it really just depends on your mood. If you’re feeling low, you can get something super cheesy. I usually get the Works.”

Ah, yes, the Works. Everything that made a pizza great. Peppers, pepperoni, sausage, onion and olives. Sure, each pie was almost a pound, but it didn’t matter.

[generaticn-blog]

xignisavemx:

“No one said anything about being sourpusses.” She rolled her eyes as the cartridge clicked into place. “No, I just happened to know how to reload and aim it in one go.” Truth be told, Lelia had only used a gun once when her father taught her years ago. He was a recreational hunter, so naturally he had a firearm or two in the house.

“Why do you ask? Itching for some friendly competition?” Lelia glanced over her shoulder at him, batting her eyelashes patronizingly before taking aim again, firing a few more practice shots. She had a steady hand, if anything.

“Well, to me, anyone who isn’t carefree, is just a sourpuss.” And experience had proven him right, most of the time. Her limited experience with guns almost surprised him. If she wasn’t the most experienced shooter, her ability truly had to be something wild. Why else would mafia recruit her?

    Some mysteries were better left to be brooded over.  

“Maybe,” he coos. There was truly nothing like competition to get him geared up. And gearing up was what he needed if shooting off plain pistols was going to be remotely entertaining. 

[uberstei-deactivated20201115]

@generaticn asked:

❛ really, you should watch your blood pressure. ❜ 

Gilbert let out a breath. Hot, flushed, and sweating, he stepped back from the punchbag he had been giving quite the beating. behind him, it continued to swing, creaking in relief as it continued to reel from the impact.

“Listen, kid.” He suppressed an urge to roll his eyes, allowing his gaze to instead fall somewhere in the vicinity of Alfred’s chin. “I know I look super intimidating when I’m in fight mode, but I’m not gonna burst a vein.

[generaticn-blog]

Kid. Alfred felt something violent and turbulent deep inside his soul at hearing that word. He paused his music and shrugged. “Just trying to look out for- y’know. The greater public good.” Any time now, the guy looked about ready to pop a vessel. 

The blonde had been to the gym before, even if his visits were infrequent. He’d never seen the  guy before, which was rather odd, considering that no one on the face of the earth looked like that. “Fight mode? Are you like, an android?” It wasn’t even an impertinent question; he really was intrigued.

[generaticn-blog]

xignisavemx:

Lelia was less enthusiastic than Al about training, but at least it let her blow off some steam. She inspected a pistol she had plucked from the table, humming absentmindedly in response to Alfred’s whooping.

“You really should have at least a small degree of caution, you know,” she muttered. “No good to have a gun if you hurt yourself in the process of using it.” She fired a few practice shots of her own, and stopped to reload. “You seem too carefree to be a member of the mafia. No offense.”

The comment didn’t offend him at all, in fact, filled him with a rare kind of determination. “Well, who says that the mafia has to be made of sourpusses?” In fact, he liked to think of himself as mildly revolutionary in that aspect. 

In spite of all, his grip on his gun wasn't as sure as before, and eventually, the rush died. Considering that he had to stay at HQ till five, just to make it a full workday, he was desperate for other things to do. “Have you used a gun before?”

[generaticn-blog]

pcrlas:

     After a job well done, Isabella liked relaxing, so she decided to head home and catch up on her favorite soaps. But as she was practically skipping by a crowded food truck, someone called out and asked for a quarter. The bespectacled man asked the closest person … which happened to be a businessman clutching at his satchel as he hurried by; of course, with the man in a hurry, he didn’t even spare the bespectacled man a glance as he scurried on by.

Isabella, watching the whole ordeal and enjoying her time, approached with a smile and decided to offer some help. Raising her voice and scurrying over to him, she said, “I’ve got some spare change! Here !!”

Upon closer inspection, the man who called out looked familiar; she took the time to examine him a little as she handed more than just one quarter. Unabashed, she pointed at him. “You look familiar.”

There was no word he liked hearing more than the word ‘here’. Except maybe ‘congratulations’. Alfred accepted the change with a rushed ‘thanks!’ and paid off the bill. His heart only found peace once he was holding the wrap in his hands, safe and sound.

  “Thanks for that! What’s your name?” He wasn’t too certain about how he’d repay a quarter but figured that an introduction was in order, at the very least. His initial smile shrank a little into an expression of confusion. Familiar? If she thought she’d seen him before, there was quite a large chance that he’d seen her too. But Alfred would readily admit that faces weren’t his fortè. The more he thought about it-

    Oh, boy. The only place he recalled seeing her was somewhere around HQ, but he couldn’t just go around town asking if people were affiliated with the mafia, right? For the first time in a while, he played it a little safe. “Maybe from ... work?” Ugh, he truly felt like an old man when he mentioned work. 

[generaticn-blog]

pietxst:

@generaticn 

Arthur disliked missions ever since he had become the leader of the mafia he had served for a majority of his life. Not to say that it was always this way, since he was young at one point of his life, and the thrill of a mission had always been enough to get his blood to a pleasant roar. 

But becoming leader meant having ties to his time, and spending that time out and about doing things he could easily assign to another member who needed the experience more than he did was unpleasant, least to say.

The only reason why he was here… Well, Arthur had his eyes on him. 

“This is your first mission, is it not ? At least, one with a real danger tied to it.” Arthur spoke casually, trying to bring a certain levity to the situation. Not that he was any good at doing that, normally, but he had to give it a try for the kid. “Don’t worry, however, since you are surrounded by capable heads. Just try to learn from the others.”

Alfred nodded when asked the question, his heart ready to make a run out of his chest. Calling it a ‘mission’ seemed a little extra, considering the very clear lack of AI watches and combat boots. Nevertheless, they had communication devices and seemed dressed for the part, so complaining seemed childish. 

“So, I’ll do everything you do?” The idea didn’t suit him very much, following someone else. But everyone present knew that Alfred never really meant much of what he said. Of course, he was going to run off and pull some shenanigans. The goal was to make sure that those shenanigans had decent results. 

“Sounds swell.” Even if his voice didn’t border on mighty enthusiasm. Alfred then returned to inspecting his gear, namely the pistol he’d received as his sole means of defence. Not a bad model by any means, just kind of- bleh. “So, who’s ass are we kicking today?”

     Yeah, he’d kind of skimmed over the briefing. 

[generaticn-blog]

@xignisavemx

    Three shots rang through the air, followed immediately by a long howl.

         “And that’s the game, baybee !” Gotta admit, weapons training was really the best side-effect of being a mafia member. All of the gear at HQ was probably stolen, but hey, it worked just fine, and the people who had it weren’t going to use it for saving the world. But the mafia would, probably ! 

   Time to move on to the revolvers. Arthur had warned them that the machine guns wouldn’t be available until the end of the week, which was- disappointing. No amount of single rounds could make up for the pure thrill of letting a piece of metal rip.

[generaticn-blog]

@pcrlas

    “You’re kidding me.”

Alfred wasted twenty whole-ass minutes in this godforsaken line for a food truck, only to find that he had exactly 25 cents less than the cheapest thing on the menu. God was simply dead. The man looked around helplessly, his eyes wide and breath panicked. Work would need him again in fifteen minutes, and it was a fair distance.

     “Excuse me!” he called, at an innocent passerby. “Can you spare a quarter?”

[generaticn-blog]

   starting afresh on all charas ! please like this if you’d like a starter from either alfred or ravi !

[generaticn-blog]

   what’s muse ?? can’t relate. 

[generaticn-blog]

A small Christmas bag was in Alfreds mailbox. Containing two containers of candy cigarettes and a scarf with a stereotypical red and green tartan pattern. A card was included saying "Merry Christmas! -Arlo"

   “Huh.”

Alfred sure as hell didn’t know how to feel. But it wasn’t unhappiness. Hell-

              It was kind of nice.

[generaticn-blog]

lilianzwingli:

“We’re from a more expensive area, I guess, though you wouldn’t be able to tell from my family. There are cheap tourist areas of Europe too. Just… find a place where the exchange rate or cost of living is lower, I mean, if you want to travel cheaply, I suppose.”

She bit her lip a bit in thought, “Oh, well if the goal is large pancakes… rather than buying a premade mix, you should try making the pancakes more like bread. Not just by using yeast, but also in how you mix the batter. They always say not to overmix it anyways - I think it’s so the batter doesn’t become too runny and harder to rise. You should put the wet ingredients in the middle of the dry ones, like bread, and then mix it and wait a little for the yeast to rise before you cook them”

She quickly took stock of the ingredients around her in the baking aisle, “if you’re making a new dessert… have you tried making swiss lemon cakes? I like lemon desserts almost as much as chocolate ones. It’s nice to try something tart if you’re wanting to make a different dessert.”

God, he wanted to say a lot when she’d finished, but actually figured that it would be kind of- demeaning to himself. He was not the man with the strength to sit down and look for the cheapest places to stay across the Atlantic. He couldn’t even find the cheapest place in Port City. 

Alfred certainly wanted to understand what she was instructing him to do, but it was an effect similar to watching Neil deGrasse Tyson talk about space. You were just so amazed that people could actually know this stuff. By the end of it all, he had a vague idea, but knew that he had to look up bread recipes back home too. Maybe even call Mom to ask. 

“Lemon cakes?” An intriguing proposition. He certainly liked lemon pops and lemony cheesecake- so it didn’t sound like an awful creation that God abandoned.

“Christmassy mood, y’know. Wanted to be super traditional and all, but I’m not sure how to get her done. I don’t like plum cake, and I definitely can’t bother roasting a chicken or anything like that. I’m a working guy.”

   His eyebrows furrowed in deep consideration. “What do you think I’ll need for the lemon cakes?”

[generaticn-blog]

lefaux-tiare:

[she looks up from her phone, in surprise that someone is playing as well]

Oui, I still don’t have Tauros, I find everything except Tauros. Oh, and I don’t have Minidraco. I mean, ugh, what is it in English, the long, blue one…

[oh, doesn’t that feel familiar. the last two people on earth, tbh.]

Tauros. Dang. I still gotta find Exeggcute. [chuckles] Nice. Hm? Long blue one- mini dragon, I guess? Wait- Dratini? Is it this one? [shows her the Pokemon on his phone]

[generaticn-blog]

xignisavemx:

[She looks at his hand wearily, but shakes it anyway.] Eulalia. Charmed.

I’m from here. [Lelia knows he’s asking where she’s from from, but she’s going to play dumb for kicks.] Why does it matter to you?

       [Alright, he can sense a little imbalance of enthusiasm over here, but hey.]

  From here? Like born and brought up in Port City? [He’s confused- people from Port City never joined the Mafia. What gives?] Hey, chill out! We’re colleagues now, right? I’ll probably save your life once or twice.

[generaticn-blog]

countfrancula:

“…I do not know who any of those people are, but okay!”

“That’s what they call missing out. What do you listen to anyway?”

[eh-dgy]

And this is Jackass

[generaticn-blog]

eh-dgy:

🅱oneless arm

Matthew winced when Alfred let out that long winded scream.  Giving the other a well deserved confused look at his questions. He was positive that he had seen- no experienced far worse injuries just playing football.

“It’s just how my ability works- I’m sure you’ve seen far worse.” He gave another poke to his arm, pain wringing through out it as it wiggled. “Give it ten minutes and it should be as good as new.”

Alfred appeared not satisfied with that response in the slightest, which would not help in the future to prevent becoming the Jones Family’s personal punching bag. He expected that Alfred would eventually leave him alone, but did not trust if Emily found out about his ability.

“My arm is in great pain, and because it doesn’t abide by what the painting would look like, it will heal rather quickly.” To be honest, he had not tested the limits of the painting and how strictly by the book the ability went. There was not a need to.

die

No, he had most certainly not seen far worse. “People don’t get that fucked up playing football, dude, what are you on about?” In fact, his immediate fear had transformed into something a little closer to interest. 

Regardless of that, Matthew’s explanation for his ability, fragmented at best, so far, was certainly not helped by any of this. “Ten minutes? That’s it? It looked pretty freakin’ rough.” Evil designs were creeping into Alfred’s mind.

“Say, have you ever tested out- how bad it can get?” Not the safest and most appropriate way to put it. But hey, he’d done a bunch of fun shit around Port City that may or may not have destroyed a couple of benches. All completely justified as mafia work for the- betterment of the city. 

“You can’t just think I’m gonna let this slide. We gotta try this out.” Alfred’s plans left minimal room for any form of dissent. Perhaps they should start with car-jumping, or parkour, or anything else that a normal human being could do. “It could be fitness training. Y’know. Extreme.”

[generaticn-blog]

lilianzwingli:

“Ohio…” she repeated aloud, “no, I don’t think I have ever been there. My brother and I mostly traveled around Europe until moving here.”

She blinked at him thinking, cake-pancakes? 

“You do know store-bought cake mix is just flour, sugar, flavoring, and either starch or yeast, right? Adding those ingredients to pancakes would make them huge but… I’m not sure how the yeast would work without baking it. Most pancakes are made with the same things otherwise…” 

“I think you could just add extra starch or flavoring when you make the pancakes, I think… It would be cheaper with the same result.”

“Europe, huh. Never been, because I’ve heard it’s expensive.” More than that, he’d seen the size of the food portions at restaurants. Barbarian. 

He listened rather intently to her advice, his eyes widening with every word.

“Huge pancakes are the idea- I think.” But in the end, she seemed like she knew what she was talking about. Besides, it was hard to banter with a face like that. “Starch or flavouring, huh?” A pause, some feigned thought. “Yeah. Maybe. I’ll try that.”

   “Thanks. Got any other dessert recipes up your sleeve? I’m running out here.” It was only so many time he could try to bake, and the last time, it caused quite the troubles with the eggs. Kinda traumatizing.