#ftwstarter

[emiliaking-archived]

&&who: open &&where: hospital  &&when: post plot drop

The last Emilia had seen of her mother was in the town square, walking arm in arm during the festival. Everything had felt so normal, as if the confusion the past few months had sowed slowly dissipated into little more than a background thought. For a few hours, the ugly been replaced with laughs and smiles. I’ll see you at home, be safe. The words left Milena King’s lips, the final thing Emilia heard her say before they parted ways- there was no need for goodbyes when dinner plans were already made.

The phone call came unexpectedly, with Emilia at a local coffee shop following the rift at the festival. God knew these things had been happening more often, and the only solace from the chaos was getting ushered to a different location. The stranger on the line, careful and as apologetic as he could, set fire to her world with the news.  Legs buckled towards the ground, all and any air struck from her lungs. No. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t… The cold glare of hospital lights burned into her vision, too bright, too invasive.  Autopilot had taken over the moment she stepped through the doors. Staff led Emilia through the metal doors, down a long hallway until a picture of her mother’s lifeless body was ingrained into her head. The blood, the pale skin, the bullet hole that had ended it all.

She fell into a chair outside of the morgue, minutes turning into an hour as time passed. What was there to do now? Emilia could recall an earlier conversation, excitedly talking about graduation with her mother as the date came closer and closer. The Kings were set on throwing a dinner to celebrate the achievement, all friends and family invited following a long four years at McGill. Though a party was the furthest thing from her mind now, with a funeral needing to be arranged. She barely noticed the gentle hand on her shoulder, another person taking a seat beside her. Her eyes remained trained on nothing, grief and shock threatening to split her in half.  It wasn’t possible.

[julianpistris-archive]

&&who: open (vittori) &&where: Pistris Penthouse  &&when: post-murder

Julian hadn’t been this strung out since... he couldn’t remember. But did it matter? Music blasted through his apartment- Alexa play King’s Dead- at a volume that was almost offensive. Though considering he owned the building he couldn’t care less. This was it, the move they’d all been waiting for. Careful planning led to one of the biggest plays in their game: the execution of Milena King.

 If he closed his eyes, he could see it now. He’d emerged from the shadows like death itself, the gun that had been on him the entirety of the festival finally seeing daylight. The metal was smooth and cold, sitting comfortably as fingers traced the trigger. Was it sane to find beauty in murder? No- though Julian Pistris had long fallen off the normal mental spectrum. Lips curved into a horrible smile, watching as the realization of a life cut short flashed across Milena King’s features. A woman who had so much red in her ledger must’ve considered the possibility of an ugly death. Bravely staring down the barrel, Julian quickly turned her from an intangible powerhouse to a crumpled body. 

It seemed the Titans of the world were falling all around them: Vincent, Milena, his own brother. Surely there was something poetic about the powerful being taken out by the forgotten, those who had their life born anew from ash. Like a goddamn Santa Claus, Julian had brought a happy Christmas to the Vittori- gifts included. And currently? It was snowing in his apartment, coke lined up nicely on each countertop. Julian eyes flickered to his television, the security camera alerting him of another presence entering the space. He was an unsuspecting Most Wanted for the Ivory... his act of violence couldn’t be traced back to him, for now. It didn’t hurt to be careful, just in case. Julian walked to his door, unlocking it at as he took in his fellow Vittori. The neck of a bottle was clenched in his hand, dark irises consuming most of the color in his eyes as he grinned. “Tell me what song this is.” 

[nicpclltier]

“Get your god damn hands off me.” The vicious edge of her tone nothing compared to the icy glare and open ended swipe of her hand as she brushed off the lingering hand at her shoulder as they’d tried to steer her somewhere else within the hotel. The brash blanket that she’d been handed to warm herself up with long forgotten as she’d all but huddled in the corner; much more inept to completely avoiding anyone she might have known here. “Touch me again and I’m not against biting.” Far be it from her to so openly admit to the switchblade tucked into the back pocket of her jeans, especially in a building she had no doubt would find bigger and meaner in. Stock standard in her opinion; everyone always had something to prove, and she’d been no less cliche in that as she crossed her arms over her chest glaring down the woman in retreat from her dire need to help. The cold chilled her through her clothing, the coat she’d worn near pointless considering she wore so little beneath it, Nic having been working a late shift when the emergency had been announced. “A whole fucking building to occupy and nobody can seem to keep their hands to themselves.”

[emiliaking-archived]

&&who: open &&where: hospital cafe &&when: 10am | day after the accident

It’s only one more day, that was what her mother had told her, fingers brushing back a strand of her hair before she left for her usual meetings. When they’d found Emilia, her clothes were a mosaic of car shrapnel and blood, the world fading to black before she came to in the hospital. In the confusion was her mother’s panicking face, strained voice yelling at the doctors. And a hazy picture of her uncle, though it all felt so strange she half wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing. What followed was a series of needles, tests, and pain until her chart had the words rib fracture and stage three hypovolemic shock inscribed on it. A lucky diagnosis considering what had happened... though Emilia’s head was a mess she’d kept to herself, nightmares circling around every time she closed her eyes.

In the flurry that was the past forty-eight hours, she didn’t have much of an appetite, the feeling replaced with a strange anxiety regarding what the world held next. For a moment, she was certain she was going to wake up from a bad dream, but reality sunk in as her eyes opened to a hospital room. The gunshots were real, the head on crash? Real. Where’s Sera- it was the only question she could manage to her mother before a panic attack came on, spurred at the thought of it all.

Montreal sunlight shone in through her window as shaky legs stood up. She’d finally gotten a semi-clear, enough to move around... which was a much-needed thing. Another minute alone with her thoughts and any grain of sanity would quickly turn over. One more day. The hospital cafeteria was relatively empty, fluorescent lights and white walls lacking any sense of comfort though it was better than being confined to a bed. Brown hues stared at her food absentmindedly, barely noticing the chair across from her scraping against the floor to announce a visitor.  She jumped at the sound, closing her eyes and rubbing her face before she looked over at the person. “Hey- sorry...”

[emiliaking-archived]

&&who: open &&where: the luxure &&when: 11pm

The luxure wasn’t a place Emilia thought she would ever find herself in again. Let alone while it was operating. But as it was, she sat in one of the booths, doing her best to politely listen to a stranger go on about their day. Flashing lights threw a haze over the dancers, music reverberating throughout the space. A grand opening... and her first night really out since the death of Milena King. Details continued to surface, with Emilia doing her best to keep her head above water. As far as she was aware, she could guess that the luxure fell under the rule of the Ivory kingdom. One of the legitimate businesses contributing to her bloody inheritance. While it didn’t ease the chasm that split her mind in half, she couldn’t argue with supporting Alex. Especially since the list of people she cared about or trust somehow dwindled day by day.

Brown hues watched as her counterpart finally got up, saying something about a smoke break and being right back- though a part of her really hoped he got lost instead. The moment he disappeared from vision, Emilia made a beeline for the bar. Maybe a drink could help aid the out-of-place feeling that sat in her head? It was perpetrated only further by the occasional shock stares to see Milena and Marco’s princess out and about in their world. Finding a place on the countertop, she waited until the bartender turned his eyes on her. “Hey- gin and tonic, thanks.”