setting: december 23rd, montague territory, in cristian’s car likely on their way to his apartment complex present: brielle king ( @czarnichego )
In the words of the red lady from Game of Thrones, the night was indeed dark and full of terrors.
The many who thought that the gunshots near the streets of Teatro Nuovo signaled the end of an era would be right. It was the end of the old gods of Verona. How unworthy were they to have sat and judged from their pedestals only to be felled by a mere mortal. And that is exactly what Damiano was—vicious and cunning, more so that the witches three. It was by his machinations that their necks snapped like twigs under his foot.
Cristian knew exactly what to make of it—the ire, the rancour, the discontent. So, it was with a smile that the De Luca man invited the new age of chaos. But still, he had a part to play.
He’d received word that some of their soldiers were scattered across Verona, some fleeing for their secret hideouts, others still drifting from alley to alley. The latter were likely to get shot if they hadn’t been already. Brielle King had been one of them.
His mission was simple: recover all missing personnel. And Brielle all but strode into his car as he made his rounds.
He handed her an unopened bottle of water without so much as a glance.
“Tell me, what would you have done if I hadn’t come by? I presume you have an idea.”