The Illusions I Create, The Tales I Spin [entries|friends|calendar] Joseph Tropiano [ userinfo | greatestjournal userinfo ] [ calendar | greatestjournal calendar ]

One Last Time [26 Oct 2006|03:23am] [ mood | sad ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Joseph had lit cigarette after cigarette and none of them had been enough, there wasn’t enough cancer in the world to make him feel better. He was sure that if he died, they could open up his chest and see nothing but the black of nicotine and tar and maybe a little of what people referred to as his soul. He’d sat at the airport, watching plane after plane take off and land and he hadn’t moved towards the gate that would take him away from Vegas and away from her. Joseph didn’t have it in him to be early, to get there on time to secure his seat; he just didn’t. Maybe it seemed too final, too much that last goodbye he’d never been able to say. So instead he opened up his phone and called the only person he wanted to. It clicked over to voicemail so he just talked. “Hey Rhi, it’s me. I’m at the airport and I’m just sitting here watching the planes and thinking about how much all of this fucking sucks.” He gave a soft laugh void of any and all humour. “I guess I’m calling because I didn’t get a chance to say all that I wanted to say the other day. Maybe this is wrong, me leaving a message on your voicemail expecting you to listen but I love you Rhiannon and I can’t leave without saying these things to you.” Joseph just rubbed a hand through his hair, “I want you to know that when it’s done and I’ve finished all of this, I’ll find you. I swear on my mother’s grave, I’ll find you. I don’t care how long it takes, how far I have to go, I will find you.” His voice had never sounded so serious in his whole life. “I’m not asking you to wait for me, I’m just saying that when I’m done, I’m going to find you and maybe you’ll have a great guy by then but damn if I’m not a selfish sonofabitch when it comes to you.” Joseph gave a sad smile, “I love you, Rhiannon. Don’t forget that and don’t forget me because I meant what I said, you’re my cuore.” He then glanced up when the announcement that gate 3B was now boarding and he exhaled a ragged breath. “That’s my gate so I’d better go or else I’m never going to go.” He leaned down, picked up his bags and started towards the gate. “You look after yourself and never forget I’m always one phone call away if you ever need me. This isn’t goodbye, Rhiannon. Not by a long shot. It’s just an ‘I’ll see you later’.” Joseph gave his ticket over and then paused to mutter, “sempre il vostro,” before he hung up the line and started the walk towards the plane. Living on the edge of life

Things To Do [23 Oct 2006|12:38pm] [ mood | stressed ] ( Voicemail For Rhiannon ) Living on the edge of life

Blood [22 Oct 2006|07:24pm] [ mood | crushed ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ The apartment was silent – silent except for the short ragged breathing and the harsh desperate pulls on the end of cigarettes. Glass littered the ground, splinters of wood clung to the golden brown skin of Joseph’s hands and blood littered his injured knuckles. Tears lined his cheeks and bile had left a sour tang in the back of his throat, he’d lost track of time; hadn’t been aware of much anything beyond the pain in his heart and the stab in his gut. Smoke escaped from the corners of his lips and his hand shook every time he brought the filter end of the cigarette to inhale one more choking breath. It had been hours since he’d gotten the news and he still hadn’t accepted it. He’d even gone as far as to call her but the phone had just rang off until the sound was like an echo in his mind and it ached, god, it ached. Joseph had already lost his father to this and now he’d lost his mother and he was a mangled mess of emotions. There was anger; there was pain, there was so much grief, and far too much frustration. He’d worked so hard to keep her safe but now she was gone and he knew who was responsible for it and he knew what needed to be done. One more exhalation of smoke and slow push of his fingers through his hair had Joseph trying to pull himself together. He rocked back, skull connected with the wall with a single dull thud and entire body shook with a broken sounding cry. One single flick of his tongue across his lip and Joseph’s eyes were closing and his mouth was parting into a soft whisper of a prayer; sent to the heavens above, for his mother and for what needed to be done after the proper arrangements had been made. Blood was thicker than water. Living on the edge of life

Sin [18 Sep 2006|11:47pm] [ mood | weird ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ “Forgive me father for I have sinned,” Joseph muttered softly within the confines of the confession box. There was a pause from the other side of the screen, “How long has it been since your last confession?” “Too many years,” Joseph murmured as gloved hands seemed to ease a silencer of sorts onto his gun which he had clasped in his hand. “I have done things, terrible things.” He continued as the safety was clicked off and the rounded tip of the silencer was pressed to the screen. “I don’t think God will hold any forgiveness in his heart for me.” There was an admonishing sound from the priest, “God will forgive if you repent your sins.” Joseph just cocked an eyebrow, “I doubt that, father.” His finger squeezed the trigger and with a silenced and muffled sound, the bullet ripped through the screen and lodged in the cranium of the priest who gasped and simply slumped against the side of the box. “Like I said, I don’t think God will forgive me for this.” Joseph remarked, the gun sliding past the leather of his jacket and being held within the holster around his shoulders. He inhaled a calming breath and pushed the lengths of his fingers through his hair and slowly wound a brown band around the tendrils to hold them away from his face. A roll of his neck had a resonating crack echoing off the wooden walls and a slow movement had his body slipping out of his compartment and into the next where the priest sat, still wide eyed and disbelieving in the face of his own death. “Sorry father, nothing personal. Just business.” Joseph eased the door shut and retrieved a flask of sorts which he placed to the bleeding wound and he then twisted his wrist and watched the tick of the hands on his watch. When the blood had collected, Joseph closed the flask and then gently brushed the tips of his fingers over the priest’s eyes to close the lids, respectful in the light of such disrespect. Joseph slid the flask away and then let himself out of the compartment to shut the door after him before a few short crisp strides had his boots echoing off the glistening floors and it wasn’t long until the larger doors creaked open. He flipped open his phone, dialled a number and lit up a cigarette as he braced phone between ear and shoulder. “Yeah I got it, now arrange me a meeting.” A few muffled words had Joseph nodding his head, “I’ll be there.” He then closed his phone and flicked a couple flecks of ash to the side before simply losing himself in the crush of Vegas life. Living on the edge of life

Rites [12 Sep 2006|09:48pm] [ mood | uncomfortable ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Joseph’s feet were dragging, slow, one trudge at a time as he moved across black tarmac and he trailed after the long stream of people exiting the airplane. He was back in Vegas but his shoulders were three times heavier than they had been when he’d left. So much for vacations. His eyes were shaded by thick dark panes of glass and his hair was pulled back and tied loosely with a brown band. His shoulder was wrapped with a bandage and his mood was sombre, there was work to be done after all. Joseph paused beside the metal detector and shed his rings like a snake shed its skin and handed his bag over to be checked. He then exhaled a breath as he stepped through and the machine was silent and when his bag finally came through on the other side; he slung it over his shoulder and continued on through easing his rings back on. Rotating belt offered up his suitcase and Joseph merely collected and spared little to no glance around himself. The automatic doors slid open and Joseph instantly lit up a cigarette and let the burning embers soothe his troubled thoughts and his weary soul, if all else failed, he could always smoke himself to death. A shrill ringing interrupted his thoughts and Joseph pulled his phone from his pocket and he muttered. “Yeah I’m home and yeah I’m on my way there, I’ll call you when I’ve talked to him. See where things stand.” The next sequences of the conversation were all in thick deep throated Italian, the kind of words that grated over Joseph’s vocal chords. Eventually the conversation ebbed and Joseph blew out a stream of smoke then flicked the butt end of his cigarette away as he circled his car and opened up the trunk. His luggage was tossed inside and the bag slung into the depths until searched for another packet of cigarettes. Fingers secured the packet, hand closed the trunk and lighter had the tip burning red against the black of the deserted airport parking lot. He sniffed, inhaled the smoke and then with long confident strides slid in behind the wheel to start the engine and twist the radio on. Joseph paused, contemplated his phone for a long moment until opening it and dialling a number. The long dial tones were torture on Earth and he wasn’t sure what was worse, an actual response or the answering machine. “Rhi, it’s Joseph. I just got back into town and I was ringing to check if you got home okay and to say that I miss you and I love you, so call me back, I’ll be around.” With message left, Joseph tossed the phone onto the nearby passenger seat and pulled the car away from the lot. He had somewhere he needed to be. Living on the edge of life

Closed Door [02 Sep 2006|10:37pm] [ mood | blank ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ In this world it’s as if the rest of society no longer exists. The door’s closed and that’s it, there’s no more right and wrong. All there is is the justice that the family decides is right. It doesn’t matter if it’s illegal or just plain crazy. What matters is that it works and that it works well. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be wrapped up in that insanity. The kicker is that to them, the offshoot of fathers and brothers all within the same family is that all of this is normal. Normal is discussing plans to kill another human being; normal is pushing drugs, running guns and laughing at every cheesy Mafia movie except for the Godfather movies. Most of the men agree that they're a good series and well worth the watch. Joseph never thought he’d be right back where he started but he is and he’s been accepted back in with open welcoming arms. This is what happens when someone asks a favour and contacts your mother knowing that family’s always come first. His father’s brother needed him and who was he to say no to his uncle? With all the welcomes aside and the history of his absence covered he knows it’s time to buckle down and ask the question he’s been dying to ask since his mother told him. “What do you want me to do?” Living on the edge of life

Black Days [27 Aug 2006|03:09pm] [ mood | uncomfortable ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Joseph was alone, in Venice and if he’d known that this would be the outcome then he never would have taken Rhiannon to meet his mother. Even if things had turned out the way that they had he wasn’t sorry. Rhiannon was a part of his life; it was as simple as that. Venice certainly didn’t seem as warm as it had only a day or so ago, funny how that happened. He had regrets, wished that things had gone better and hoped Rhiannon had made it home safely. Joseph had gone through about six packets of cigarettes and was steadily working on his seventh. In only a few hours time he’d been seeing his father’s brother, talking about business he thought long left behind. The past was never far away even if you thought you’d outrun it and left it behind. He inhaled a breath, dragged smoke into his lungs and tapped dying flecks of grey into the nearby glass tray. His eyes turned back to the empty bed, untouched since Rhiannon had left and he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Get it together, Joseph.” He muttered quietly as the cigarette hung loosely from the corner of his mouth and he stepped away from the window. Soft treading footsteps carried him into the living room and a shift on the balls of his feet had the table moving before Joseph reached for a loose floorboard. He eased it away and reached into the dark recesses and out from the shadows he pulled a heavy case which he rested against the wooden floor. “Long time no see,” He muttered, ash dropping from the end of his cigarette and scattering across the ground but Joseph didn’t even seem to care. A sequence of numbers was slid around, rotated until the lock clicked and the lid parted slightly. Joseph took a drag then crushed the cigarette out, the heat burning a circular mark into the ground. It was strange, how opening this case seemed like a big deal. Maybe because he hadn’t looked at the contents since he’d left New York and practically fled all things that reminded him of the family. His hands shook, his entire frame trembled and he just swallowed past the lump in the back of his throat as he reached for the customised desert eagle. Living on the edge of life

Mothers [21 Aug 2006|12:12am] [ mood | awake ] [Thread Locked To Rhiannon] Joseph was an observer to the rising of the sun and watcher of the slight ripple of the current across the water. It was truly beautiful. He turned his head, brown eyes now watching the slight movement beneath his sheets before he rose to his feet. He sighed as his phone rang, shrill and loud, completely ruining the quiet atmosphere. “Three guesses who that is but I’ll only need one,” He muttered as he strayed through his apartment. Jeans dragging on the ground behind him and narrow hipbones peeked out above thick band of black of cotton boxer shorts. His ringed fingers snatched up the phone, pressed it to his ear and he began speaking in Italian before even asking who it was. Sure enough, it was his mother. Being nosey and asking if she was ever going to meet this woman of Joseph’s. He placated her by assuring her that she would and it was only a matter of visiting her, it worked more or less and she started on another topic. Now and only now did Joseph’s voice slip back into English, “Who visited you?” She repeated the name and Joseph’s eyebrows drew together, “What did he want?” Shaking his head, he pushed his fingers into his hair and expelled a breath. “I’ll sort it when I get back, don’t worry, momma.” He let his voice return to the warm sensual tones of the language that came to him like a second nature and smiled as he muttered his goodbye and turned to glance towards the bedroom. Joseph strayed through, sat down slow, lifted a hand and gently stroked away dark strands of hair from Rhiannon’s face. “Wake up, baby,” He whispered softly Living on the edge of life

Customer Service [02 Jun 2006|04:55am] [ mood | irritated ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ “So that’s two tickets to Venice?” The woman behind the desk seemed to ask despite Joseph having told her already that yes that was correct, two tickets to Venice. Taking a breath he responded with, “Yes that’s correct.” He bit back on the urge to say: “For the umpteenth trillion time,” because that would get him nowhere and he really didn’t want to stay for any longer than was completely necessary. She gave him one of those smiles, the kind he knew that she’d been taught in a ‘how to provide good customer service’ tutorial or some such like that. Hell even her eye contact was good, this girl must have been at the top of her class. “And you’ll be wanting to sit together I presume?” She looked up at Joseph, expecting a response. “Yes,” He replied tersely. No, he was just in here to buy two plane tickets for two different ends of the plane. She hummed under her breath, went back to typing at her keyboard. “I trust you have accommodation and transport arranged already?” Dear lord it was like facing the Spanish inquisition, Joseph kept his thoughts to himself and gave a patient nod of his head. “All arranged.” “Ah good,” She remarked a moment later before back to her computer she went, tap tap tappity tap tap and then finally, “And that is all sorted.” Joseph gave a smile, probably his first genuine one since setting foot in this travel agent’s. “Wonderful.” Now to get the hell out of this place before he went insane or something equally as horrific. 1 Experience ~ Living on the edge of life

Calling My Name [10 May 2006|12:04am] [ mood | mellow ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ The yawn upon exiting the plane was barely restrained, Joseph hadn’t slept much during the trip home but his main objective to honour, cherish and respect his father’s memory had been achieved so he felt accomplished in spite of being exhausted. Scratching behind one ear Joseph took the steps one slow stride at a time and shifted the bag he had slung over one shoulder. Shades kept the sun out of his eyes which they appreciated and so did he. His head didn’t hurt so much if he wasn’t looking at anything bright. Following after the long line of people Joseph inhaled the scent of Vegas; every city had a different scent and a different nature. New York might have been home but Vegas, this is where his heart resided and where his soul came to sing. Passing through the airport he paused briefly to collect his bag and then continued onwards and outwards. He released a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding the moment his boots settled on that concrete and his eyes soaked in the view. The tattoo now inked across the back of one shoulder was aggravated when Joseph shifted his bag and he resisted the urge to scratch. A memento from his trip away, just a simple string of words scrawled across skin to remember and honour. It had seemed fitting at the time. Jiggling his keys he began towards his car that he had put into parking before leaving for New York, it would be good to get behind the wheel of his car. Rental cars were great for getting around but nothing beat the feeling of driving your own car. He slung his bags into the trunk of his car and slammed it shut before opening up a door and sliding inside. The leather wrapped him like a second skin and Joseph just tipped his head back to draw one breath in and let another out. This was the first time he had actually stopped in the last week or so. Starting the engine and turning on the radio he pulled his phone and flipped it open. “Hey, it’s me. I just got back into town. How about I grab some takeout and swing by your place? It’s been too long. I’ll get Chinese, hope to be seeing you soon. Love you.” Joseph discarded his phone, ignoring the missed calls and the text messages flooding the box that could hold a hundred or more. The car pulled out of the parking slot and began the trip through Vegas, the roads easily navigated as Joseph was a lot like a fish being reintroduced to its tank. Living on the edge of life

Drinking Games [01 May 2006|11:06pm] [ mood | okay ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ “So Joe, what in God’s name have you been up to these last couple years?” Teddy, a kid that had lived on Joseph’s block years and years ago asked as he knocked his elbow into Joseph’s side. Joseph slid a set of brown eyes towards the blonde haired brute of a man, he’d figured Teddy would have done something with his life given his upbringing but he was just another pawn in the game called life. “You know, the usuals,” He answered evasively as he didn’t want to share the more personal details of his life with Teddy. Teddy blinked his eyes and then gave Joseph a discerning look. “That doesn’t tell me much.” Joseph shot a smirk back, “That was kind of the point Teddy.” The other man regarded Joseph thoughtfully before breaking out into a laugh and clasping Joseph on the back. “You always were a joker!” He exclaimed before swallowing back several mouthfuls of beer. Joseph grimaced faintly as he was knocked forward, why Teddy felt the need to express himself in that manner was beyond him. “Yeah...” He simply uttered before moving a hand to his phone that was currently ringing. “Give me a couple minutes,” He took his leave of the gathered group and slipped outside. Once outside and away from the racket inside Joseph flipped his phone opened and pressed it to his ear. It was a voicemail and one that made his lips curl. Pulling the phone away he selected the option to answer and then spoke when the beep was heard. “Hey babe it’s me. Still in New York, I ran into some old friends and they insisted on taking me out and reminiscing about the old days.” He now rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. “It’s good to here that you guys got through but I thought you would. I miss you and I love you, it’s nice being out of Vegas but it isn’t the same if you’re not with me.” Glancing around himself he stepped away from the bar as the doors opened and people spilled out onto the sidewalk. “We’ll go to Venice, I’ve got a place there and it’s a beautiful city and if you’re feeling brave you could meet my mother.” Pause given for dramatic effect, “Seriously though she’s been dying to meet you.” “Joe! You coming back in or what?” A male voice seemed to shout in the background. Grimacing faintly Joseph covered the mouthpiece and shouted back, “In a minute!” Sam now vanished back into the bar and the loud music was muffled as the wooden door fell back into place, Joseph quickly turned his attention back to the message he was leaving. “I’d better go before Teddy steals my beer. I’ll be back soon. Love you.” Joseph hung up the phone and wandered back into the bar, a couple more drinks and then back to Bobby’s. Living on the edge of life

Paying Respect [28 Apr 2006|02:27am] [ mood | melancholy ] “It’s kind of sad when you have to bring two guns to your dad’s grave...” Joseph remarked quietly as he gazed down upon the letters etched into granite. Shrugging his leather clad shoulders he now smirked, “But I guess it fits considering how you lived your life and how I live mine.” Taking a breath he used it to steady himself as he crouched and the grass crunched beneath the treads on his boots. “Momma isn’t here but she’s thinking of you. I got her out of the mess, I got her home and she’s happy.” Joseph commented quietly as he laced his fingers together until silver touched silver. “You always wanted her to be happy.” A shaky smile passed across Joseph’s face as he worked hard to maintain composure. “I remember that more than anything else. The way you were with her and with me.” Dropping his head, wayward strands of hair obscured vision from behind dark glasses, “You always did what you thought was best for us.” Pausing for a moment Joseph turned his head ever so slightly as he was certain he had heard something. Paranoia, the things it did to a normally relaxed person. Shaking aside his doubts he turned back to his father’s headstone. “Life was never simple, you didn’t have a nine to five job but you were a good father and I respected you. I still do, even though you’re not here with me now.” Joseph reached out and traced the letters engraved into the stone, “One thing I wish is that you hadn’t gone the way that you did. I always imagined that you and momma would grow old together but I was five when I came up with that idea.” Laughing slightly Joseph shook his head and he managed a rueful smile, “Funny how my perspective has changed.” ( GodFather ) Emilio nodded his head, “Good because you’ve been in Vegas a while now, thought it might have changed you.” “Never,” Joseph remarked as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and extended the choice to Emilio. Shaking his head Emilio answered the question that he knew would be asked, “I quit a year ago. Doc said it was bad for my health, imagine that?” “Doctors,” Joseph snorted as he lit the cigarette and simply gazed back at his father’s grave. “I miss him,” He shared quietly. Offering a sympathetic smile Emilio reached out and wrapped his arm around Joseph’s shoulders, “We all do Joseph, we all do.” Neither man said anything more, they simply stood together and grieved silently for the man that they had both known, loved and lost. Living on the edge of life

Wake Up Call [26 Apr 2006|12:28am] [ mood | confused ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ “Get off me,” Joseph mumbled groggily as something heavy had just landed on his legs and was it his imagination or was that something drooling? Giving a small exclamation of disgust Joseph rolled over onto his back and forced the Bullmastiff off his lap and onto the ground. Blinking a set of bleary eyes Joseph let the dog’s face swim into focus, “You’re new.” A statement followed by a great whooping bark from the pooch in question. Groaning faintly, Joseph caught the corner of his blanket and dragged it over his head as he turned to try and shy away maybe catch another couple hours of sleep. Unfortunately the dog had other ideas; it wasn’t long until Joseph’s half naked body was exposed to the startling cold of Bobby and Shelly’s apartment. Cursing faintly and turning to narrow eyes he found himself confronted with the same slobbering mass of fur with teeth as before. “What’s your problem?” A relatively dumb question considering the animal was incapable of speech but one that just needed to be said, if for nothing else but to make Joseph feel better. The dog blinked, stared, blinked some more and then barked just like it had done before. “Fine, I’ll get up.” Joseph grunted as he tossed aside the blanket and pulled denim clad legs out from beneath the covering and he touched bare feet to the ground. A yawn split his mouth open and bore white teeth to the early morning sunshine. Grimacing faintly, he reached back to tug the curtain closed and he then spent a few moments arranging the necklaces around his neck. The dog continued to stare. Joseph chose to ignore it and simply raked fingers through unruly hair until it was tamed with a brown band. Dragging himself to his feet, the waistband of his jeans slipped and exposed the narrowing of bone that disappeared beneath black material. Standing there for a moment he stretched his neck and followed suit with his arms until leather surrounded his forearm but settled back into place when fingertips went searching for his cigarettes. If there was one thing a compulsive smoker needed when they awoke to a fresh day it was a nice crispy cigarette. Finally he had his drug of choice inserted between lips and with just one flick of his thumb a flame had engulfed the tip and started him down the path of addiction once more. Making sure to linger close to a window, Joseph cast a gaze out at a neighbourhood he hadn’t seen since he had uprooted himself. Shaking aside memory and ignoring emotions, Joseph flipped his phone open and cast a look over the missed call list along with the text messages gathering dust. Clients, needy as ever. Dialling a number he spoke into an answering machine, “Hey Rhi, it’s me again. Just letting you know I arrived safely and well I should be back in a couple days, maybe a week. Hope you’re okay. Love you.” With that done, he slid the phone away and simply rested his wiry build in the arch of the door as he watched the sun rise and he shaved one more year off his life with every breath that was taken. Eventually it would be time to venture out into the wilderness. Living on the edge of life

Past Meets Present [21 Apr 2006|08:16pm] [ mood | thankful ] “So Joseph, how come you gotta come to me to get yourself armed for this little brief encounter with New York?” A dark man questioned, his tone was curious and the expression on his face one of mild amusement. The response given was the smallest lift of an eyebrow as the left hand slid a clip full of bullets into the gun that the right hand was holding. “Carry a gun on a plane?” He said with a disbelieving smile just as his thumb knocked safety off and his sight had the muzzle aiming right for Bobby’s forehead. “Even I’m not that cocky,” Joseph shared as he pulled the gun back and dropped it to his side to slip safety back on. “Jesus fucking Christ, Joseph! You gotta point that thing in my face like that?” Bobby said angrily. Sweat had already begun to form in hollow cheeks and stood out on his skin like rainwater. Joseph rolled his eyes and hostled the automatic, “Since when did you get touchy?” Bobby snorted and stuck what appeared to be a badly rolled cigarette into his mouth, “Since I got a wife, a house and a mortgage.” Joseph picked up the remaining gun and went about securing the clip and checking the sight. “How is Shelly?” “Pregnant,” Bobby shared with a grin that looked set to split his face apart. ( Surreal ) A low whistle sounded as Bobby stepped back and shook his head, “That serious huh?” Joseph simply nodded his head, yes, it was that serious. “But anyways, I’d better get going. I need to get myself a motel room...” Before he had a chance to finish that thought Bobby spoke up and seemed to object, “There’s no fucking way you’re staying in a motel, you can stay at mine. Shelly won’t mind, she always liked you.” Joseph would’ve declined if Bobby hadn’t fixed him with that look and he knew better to argue. Instead, he smiled and nodded his appreciation, “Thanks Bobby.” “Don’t mention it, gotta look after our own.” Bobby simply said as he shook his head and walked around to close shop for the evening. Living on the edge of life

Going Home [19 Apr 2006|09:30pm] [ mood | uncomfortable ] ( Voicemail For Rhiannon ) Joseph took one last and final drag before flicking the cigarette aside and expelling the smoke. He had a plane to catch and then places to go, best he got an early start. Opening up the driver's side, he slid in behind the wheel and then started the engine to direct his car back into the mainstream of traffic. New York awaited and all he could do was hope that the jackals left him alone for long enough to mourn his father's passing but if they didn't he always had his contingency plan. Bobby would take care of him; he always had in the past. Living on the edge of life

Time Of The Year [17 Apr 2006|02:30am] [ mood | sad ] It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone’s blood on my hands but unlike the many times before, this was for a good cause. I don’t think the man in the chair would be inclined to agree but it’s hard to speak when you’re missing a couple teeth and those were only the beginning. If there’s one thing the Mafia teaches you, it’s the ability to torture a person to breaking point yet still manage to leave them with enough strength to gasp out all the answers you’ve wanted to know. Papa would be so proud and Mama, she’d probably be cringing if she could read this but she’s pretty much accepted that I live my life the way that I want. The blood’s managed to seek out the alcoves of my nails and it’s dried, I’ve tried scrubbing and it just isn’t budging. Don’t get me wrong, there isn’t a hint of remorse in me. The guy’s a total dirt bag and deserved all that he got and more. He’ll get eaten alive in prison and Devon; he’s just one step closer. The man isn’t giving up easy. When I was a kid I always imagined I’d be saving lives or something noble but you know what? When you’re a child you’re innocent and this world is a big beautiful place. You start seeing the flaws the older you get and the more things that happen to you. I am who I am and honestly I like me, I don’t treat women like shit and I might have a different set of moral code and ethics but I’m still a decent human being. My mama did a good job with me and my father, his sense of honour and loyalty rubbed off on me. You protect those close to you no matter the cost and no matter the stakes. It’s getting to that time of the year, might travel back to New York and pay my respects and maybe tell him all that he’s missed. Something to think about, I still miss him you know? Like he took a part of me when he died. I’ll call mama and talk with her, she doesn’t need a calendar to know and the last thing I need is for my mother to be upset especially when she’s so far away. That was the point, to get her as far away from the old life as possible but still it would be nice to have her close. Been a long time since I felt like this, think maybe I need a whole lot of drink and a couple smokes. Living on the edge of life

High Stakes [11 Apr 2006|02:35pm] [ mood | lazy ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ The name of the game is to beat the guy in front, to take whatever’s he trying to get and drain him dry. Joseph’s well versed in the game; he’s played it and won it on many occasions. The movement of fingers split the deck and the quick agile turn of silver ringed thumbs have it shuffled and then another quick shift of fingers have the cards turning until every card is mixed. Wayward strand of hair slips free as Joseph inclines his weight forward upon its perch to dish out the cards that will seal everyone’s fate. His own is placed in front of him and observed with a blank unaffected expression. This game is all about wrong impressions and Joseph’s really good at what he does. Chips are placed upon the pile and finally the game begins. Looks are exchanged, pulses beat quickly and drinks are swallowed back. Stakes continue to rise until it’s a fool’s game that they’re playing and Joseph’s leading the way but he’s no fool, he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Momentary pause leads to another cancer inducing stick being lit and slid between the set of expressive lips. Remaining opponent’s strength is waning; Joseph can tell it by the slump in the previously upright shoulders and the sweat mottling his brow. Slow roll of tongue has his bottom lip moistened and placement of filter end has yet another coaxing of smoke pulled inwards and then expelled outwards through nasal passages. Finally movement has the ante rising and it’s playing out just the way that he had hoped it would. He calls and wins, the other man’s face falls and it’s almost heartbreaking to watch the way his eyes dim as his chips vanish from his side of the table to Joseph’s. The woman in black, the same one that plays these tables and reaps in the chips every other night joins the game. Her interest resides with Joseph, he’s got the biggest pile of chips and he’s the most adept player. Challenge and contest, it’s the Vegas way. He knows her patterns, charm her way around her bluff and distract with the assets clearly accentuated by the dress of her choice. It’s tight and quite revealing. The other men have fallen folly but Joseph leans back and orders himself a drink and then exhales another breath of smoke. The game continues, she raises the stakes and the other fall in the last stretch but Joseph keeps up, every new card presents him with a strong offensive for war. The drink arrives and is enjoyed sip by sip and turn by turn until eventually it’s just him and the woman in black, her pale complexion seems flushed as she contemplates the cards she holds in her hands. She makes a play, Joseph follows suit and soon it’s just a battle of wits occasionally interrupted by the swallow of whiskey or the exhalation of smoke, the woman’s addiction of choice seems to be Bloody Marys. The game ends with Joseph as the victor much to the chagrin of his opponents, all except for the woman in black. She’s smiling like she knows something no-one else knows and that kind of smile tends to make Joseph nervous, it’s unnerving. He ducks his head, settles his eyes on the glass of brown and white and then angles his head as a hand touches and ghosts along his shoulder. The look in his eyes questions her approach and she answers it with a smile and a presentation of a small white card, “If you ever get tired of playing in the kiddie pool, give this number a call.” Her red lips part, reveal sharpened teeth not blessed upon her by birth but rather cursed upon her by her untimely death at the age of twenty five. Lips purse, mimic a kiss before she steps away and her lithe form loses itself in the chaos of the casino. Joseph glances over his shoulder and arches a thoughtful eyebrow before he turns his attention back to the card she’s left with him. It’s turned through long fingers and then the information is soaked up by a keen set of brown eyes. The card’s slipped away and hands gather chips and then crush out cigarette life and he steps away, time to collect on what he’s owed and then check in with a few people he knows. You met someone new every night and that was something Joseph loved about Las Vegas, the city of Sin. Living on the edge of life

Communication [31 Mar 2006|12:31am] [ mood | calm ] ( Voicemail For Rhiannon ) ( Voicemail For Devon ) Living on the edge of life

Johnny Be Good [24 Mar 2006|09:56pm] [ mood | working ] ------ Non Journal Entry ------ Every sleazy bar and every run down motel had been sought inch by inch and corner to corner. Joseph was nothing if not meticulous. His search had brought him upon motel room 106, according to all that he had spoken to a man that went by the name of Johnny happened to residing within the yellowing walls. His co-workers referred to him as ‘creepy’, ‘dysfunctional’ and ‘anti-social’. None of those things made him a killer but they sure as hell singled him out as having issues. Joseph glanced around himself and discarded the cigarette butt dangling from the corner of his lips. The press of a dark sole had the fading light ground out until the cigarette was nothing more than a smear of grey. “So Johnny, let’s see what kind of man you are.” He muttered as he dropped his weight onto one knee and worked metal in the gaps of the lock. A skilled touch had the lock opening. With the door now open Joseph rose to his feet and slipped a pair of dark leather gloves on over his hands before he stepped into the room and shut the door after himself. Breaths had been quietened before a finger moved to flick the light on and it was then that Joseph was presented with a messy room. Photographs strewn left, right and centre, folders upon folders stacked in one corner and bed sheets in disarray. Joseph inclined his head and directed his eyes toward the ceiling which appeared to be littered with …holes? “I don’t even want to know,” He muttered as he moved through the room and began picking through the photographs. Girl after girl passed through his vision. Joseph could tell that the photographs hadn’t been staged and had been taken from a fair distance away. The girls hadn’t been aware of the lens which made Joseph wonder about the photographer’s motivation. He placed the photographs back where he had found them before he turned his attention to the folders. It was those that had piqued his initial interest. One was turned open and his brow furrowed as his eyes came to rest on mug shots and what appeared to be a criminal record. “What the…” He muttered as he placed the first folder down and moved onto the next. The exact same thing but as he looked through the information he noted the places that the man frequented and sure enough various strip clubs were listed. Joseph discarded the folder and moved towards the bed. His hand pulled open the drawer of the bedside table and his fingers began to sort through what was held within it. The amount of condoms was astonishing and judging by Johnny’s choice in clothing and living conditions, the man wasn’t exactly a Romeo. “Either this guy is an eternal optimist or there’s more to him than meets the eye.” Joseph mused to himself after placing everything back into the drawer and closing it again. Joseph decided that it was time to leave before he was caught being in a place he shouldn’t be. He had a motel, a room number a name to go with its occupant and his gut told him that he was onto the right guy. He was the information gatherer not the one to take action, that ball was very much in Devon’s court. Once outside of the room, Joseph lit another cigarette and began away from the room in the direction of his car. Living on the edge of life

Request [17 Mar 2006|05:18pm] [ mood | predatory ] “So what you have is a cold blooded killer that appears to have targeted the girls that provide fun and pleasure for most of the male population of Vegas, am I right?” The thick drawl made husky by the smoke that was currently curling out the corners of the mouth that spoke the words. The only reaction was a twitch of an eyebrow and an inexplicable look across two green eyes. Well that was helpful. Joseph exhaled a breath, flicked the filter end of the cigarette and watched the ash scatter. “Trust me Devon, I know how you feel. You want to find this motherfucker and make him pay for each and every girl he’s hurt.” Devon inclined his weight forward and tipped his head until he could find Joseph in his line of sight. “That’s exactly it, only I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know this city well enough to know where a guy like that can be found but you, you know the city.” Joseph inched the corners of his lips into a slight smile. “That I do but what happens if I find this guy? You going to take your justice and let the cops deal with him or are you going to finish the job?” There appeared to be a struggle of emotion and it played across Devon’s face until finally his expression cleared and he returned, “Let the cops deal with him.” That was if he could, if seeing the guy didn’t push Devon over the thin line of control and composure that he had walked so sturdily before. “I won’t judge you either way. This guy? Sounds like he could do with some old fashioned kind of justice, the kind where he gets exactly what’s coming to him and doesn’t get off because the physical evidence isn’t enough.” There was a disgusted tone to the words that Joseph spoke. Too many guys had gotten off for crimes that they had committed because the evidence just wasn’t enough. A rape case a couple weeks back had sickened him to his core. The girl was broken up and now her rapist was walking free to terrorist another poor hapless girl that saw sense and said no to him. Devon said nothing, merely observed the liquid sitting in his glass and the bowl of nuts located to the right of him. The smoky atmosphere in the bar hadn’t even bothered him, that was how focused he was on what he thought needed to be done. “So will you help me?” Joseph nodded his head, “I’ll help you.” He inhaled another lung damaging breath of smoke and then turned to face the Werewolf. “What you need to do is start thinking like the killer, I need to know when he hits and who he hits. I won’t be able to find him unless I know him.” “He hits during the late hours, around midnight and one. That’s when the girls disappear.” Devon muttered quietly as he folded his arms across the top of the bar. “He usually chooses the girls that are new, naïve enough to go with him. The last one, she had only been working in the club a couple of months.” Joseph didn’t appear to be making notes but all was to the contrary, his mind was taking in the information and filing it away into the very back of it. “So, he picks the girls that are easy marks. Not much of a challenge but maybe that’s not what he’s looking for.” Eyes slid toward the Italian and lingered there as Joseph continued to think out loud. “If you really want to catch this guy?” Joseph asked, even though he already knew the answer. “It might mean setting a trap and baiting it.” He crushed the cigarette out into the glass depths of the ashtray. “You know any women that can take care of themselves but at the same play it naïve and provocative.” “A few,” Devon answered before pausing as he gave the women he knew some thought. Shaking his head he dispelled his thoughts. “I hadn’t wanted to get anyone else involved.” Joseph nodded his head, “It’s understandable but if I can’t find him the regular way we might have to resort to more drastic measures.” Before Devon had a chance to challenge the use of ‘we’ in that sentence, he went on to say. “You asked for my help and you’re getting it and it’s coming the only way I know how so best not to argue with me.” Devon managed a wry smile and simply said, “Thank you.” Living on the edge of life

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