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Yo, Fallen - got something of a reply for you up on the Google Doc. Lemme know what you think.
Six months ago
Behind him lingered the copper-tinged scent of blood, the faint groans and pleas of mercy of what little remained of the men who’d survived his onslaught. For a moment, Jackie heard the scuttling of a tiny creature with oily black skin and a gremlin-like appearance and disinterestedly glanced away as it gnawed on the finger of a dead man. Death walked in the halls of House Franchetti today. He should’ve known - he was death, but something far worse lingered deep inside of him; a terrible force with an age that extended past the universe itself. It too sensed the death around it and revelled in the chaos, its cold disembodied voice letting out the closest thing it ever had ever known to laughter. Drawing past the door, a familiar voice with a stereotypical mobster-type accent that made Jackie want to pulverise a thousand faces called out from above, heavy footsteps clanking against the grating spiral that was the lighthouse stairwell.
“You think you made a difference here, Estacado? Nothing’s changed, you fuckin’ piker!”
His fingers tightened around the grip of the remaining pistol he still owned, the faint smell of half a dozen magazines dispensed into a dozen bodies still lingering close to the barrel. He kept on climbing, following the footsteps. Again, the voice called out.
“You brought this on yourself Jackie, I didn’t do shit that you didn’t do yourself!”
Clambering his way up a ladder, he felt the footsteps growing nearer - yet evermore frantic. Fear was in the air. He smelled it. The Darkness smelled it, and it was simple telling how it was excited to be present as its host claimed one final soul. Reaching the top, he could hear that mobster-voice screaming down to him again.
“The problem with you is, you never learned to listen! You always wanted to be me, but it doesn’t work that way, Jackie!”
The door was still ajar, leading out onto another set of steps which led to the final point atop the lighthouse. Outside, the sky was a pitch black; the only source of light being the faint rim of sun which had been eclipsed by the moon. Convenient timing, perhaps? Or maybe the Darkness had some hand in an ancient prophecy. It didn’t matter, soon he’d reach the end of his journey. Drawing back the door to the lantern room, he heard that same frantic voice scream out a final threat. “You’re a dead man, you hear me?! A dead man!” Gunshots followed and Jackie felt specks of blood seep down his coat from where one of the rounds had slammed into his shoulder, but it didn’t bother him; instead he fired off another two rounds and left the middle aged crime boss sprawled across the floor, grunting in pain as he clutched at his stomach. That same disembodied voice that was the Darkness spoke out to him yet again, yearning for the kill more than it ever had before.
”Finish him...”
Jackie took several steps towards his Uncle Paulie, remaining silent and monotone as he observed Don Paulie Franchetti - once a powerful man, feared by half of New York City and begrudgingly respected by the other - beg for his life. “Listen, Jackie. I been thinkin’, I know this worked out bad for the both of us but there’s no need to be rash here...” The last word sounded like a half-restrained sob. “Why don’t you fuckin’ listen to me, you piece of shit!”
”Take his life...”
The Darkness wanted this one so badly. He could feel it inside him, that urge to unleash a black hell and tear Uncle Paulie asunder, that hunger which yearned to taste the man’s oily heart. But Jackie wasn’t killing for the family, or for the business, or for the darkness. This one was for himself. For Jenny. “Jackie, I-” Wordlessly, he unloaded what remained of his pistol clip into Uncle Paulie, yet even that allowed the man to spit a few final words as he choked through layers of blood, phleghm and whatever else the bastard had inside of him. “Estacado, you... fuckin’ piece of shit... I hope you rot in hell forever..”
‘I already am’, Jackie thought.
And that was the end of the line.
"I've news for you, Jackie."
A familiar, gravelly voice stirred him from the memory, prompting Jackie to glance up towards its source. Standing before him was a stocky man with huge, barrel-like arms with a bushy black beard, lacking a single hair across the dome of his head. Butcher Joyce, known best for being a veteran cleaner who never took sides. Despite this however, the man had seen fit to provide Jackie with vital snippets of information on the late Paulie Franchetti's operation and had been a good friend to him, all the same. Stood beside him was a much older man aged into his mid-late sixties, wearing a neat business seat with a bowl hat atop his wrinkly old head - Jimmy the Grape, one of the few made men among the families to have respect for the 'old ways'. The man had also been a close friend and associate of Jackie's before, and had known his dear old Aunt Sarah for years. Speaking up, he spoke with a thick Brooklyn accent.
"That's right kid, you've shown the guys time and time again that you've got balls, brains and respect - and we've been saying that someone like you, who honours the old ways, that's who we need right now. So we had a little word with our old friends in Chicago and they've agreed that we all want you to come in and take over the family, just for a little while."
Jackie glanced up towards both men, still unsure on how to answer. Of course, maybe once upon a time he might've dreamed of becoming the Head of the Family. Being the Don. But everything that he'd been through, all the pain and loss he'd endured, the loss of her - was it worth it? Before he could ponder on it anymore, Jimmy spoke up once again.
"C'mon, kid. Everybody's got your back here, and we need someone to bring order to the chaos with all these wannabe wiseguys trying to muscle in on each others' territory. You're the guy who can do that, and you've proven that already - you topped that rat bastard motherfuckin' Paulie Franchetti and that fucking lap dog of his, Eddie Shrote. You protected those who needed protecting, like when they sent hitmen to your Aunt Sarah's place - you were there when everything else went to shit. We all know you won't fuck things up, you won't go around kicking down some poor kid's doors just cos' he looked at you wrong or bomb a fucking orphanage to make a point. You'll change things for the better kid."
The mention of the orphanage was a painful reminder of what he'd brought upon himself when he took a stand against Uncle Paulie. All those kids had died because Paulie wanted to hurt him, and so had Jenny when they'd taken her there. So much blood on his hands, and doubtless there'd be more if he stepped in as the new Don - but who's? Dwelling on the thought, Jackie made a decision.
"Sure... as long as it doesn't interfere with my day job."
Yo, I've not forgotten about the thread; I've been away since Wednesday but I'll be back tomorrow, will try to get a post up around then.
Independent Comics Universe RPG Character Sheet
Player Name: Zombiedude101
Character: Jackie Estacado AKA The Current Host of the Darkness
Powers and abilities:
First and foremost, Jackie is the current host of the Darkness, an ancient, evil entity which is capable of granting its user great powers beyond those of mortal limitations. With his darkness powers, Jackie can construct nearly anything out of the Darkness’ essence, ranging from a chitinous armour, to wings that allow him to fly, to magically infused firearms. With the Darkness, he can summon an army of minions known as ‘Darklings’ (Which tend to have their own little personalities and so) to use at his disposal and can also summon a number of snake-like ‘tentacles’ which protrude from his back. He also possesses a highly accelerated healing factor, superhuman strength, superhuman agility and a general resistance to injury or pain, whilst the Darkness will slowly reconstruct his body if he suffers a fatal injury. During this experience, Jackie will find himself in the ‘Otherworld’, a dream-like reality created by the Darkness to keep him distracted whilst it repairs his body. The Otherworld has many forms, ranging from a nightmarish version of a trench frontline during the First World War to a strangely quiet mental asylum. It often varies.
However, he possesses a single major weakness; light. As one would expect from an entity known as the Darkness, Jackie’s powers will not function when exposed to light. His dark constructs and minions will crumble into dust upon making contact with it, whilst his dark essence will recede until it has dissipated. In short, his powers will weaken when in contact with light until they no longer function, forcing Jackie to use creative means (Such as shooting out lights or specifically staying in the shadows) in order to continue using them. Powers aside, Jackie is a very competent man in terms of handling weaponry and particularly excels in the use of pistols, two of which he often carries in his concealed holsters and dual wields as his signature weapons. He also possesses some skill in hand-to-hand combat, specifically martial arts.
Alignment Jackie's alignment is something of a difficult topic; he's been known for both kind and terrible acts and he's well aware that by this point if there's any shred of soul remaining inside of him, he's headed straight to hell if the Darkness ever lets him go. Chaotic Neutral.
Character Notes
Chief of Police Eddie Shrote is dead - having been assassinated in a church bombing six months prior
Don Paulie ‘Kill the Children Too’ Franchetti is dead - having been found executed on the grounds of his offshore mansion
The Franchetti Crime Family - once a highly influential and overall powerful organisation - is now in disarray due to the lack of an established head and the fact that a large number of its enforcers and lieutenants have been killed off
The NYPD is currently undergoing reform after it’s revealed that the late Chief of Police Eddie Shrote had close ties to Paulie Franchetti and was said to have been under his payroll alongside numerous other officers, and was also linked to the bombing of an orphanage
Butcher Joyce is a ‘cleaner’ working in New York, often known for not taking sides against or for the families
Origin and backstory (as you see it):
Born somewhere in New York City to an absent father and a mother who died very shortly after childbirth, Jackie Estacado spent much of his early childhood growing up in St. Mary's Orphanage alongside his long-time childhood friend and sweetheart, Jenny Romano. However, from a very young age he quickly involved in the seedy underworld of New York after the head of the Franchetti Crime Family, his 'Uncle' Paulie "Kill the Children too" Franchetti opted to adopt him to raise in the mob after being passed whispers from a mysterious individual that Jackie’s influence would bring him to great power over the other families. Believing this to be partially related to the fact that Jackie's late father Danny Estacado had a reputation for being particularly vicious, Paulie seized the opportunity to groom his 'Nephew' into a Hitman for the family. As the years progressed, Jackie gradually took to the mafia lifestyle, becoming more and more addicted to it as he matured, losing his virginity at the age of fourteen to a female police officer during an interrogation and committing his first hit at sixteen years old. True to the 'prophecy' that Franchetti had been foretold of, Jackie's actions within the mob led to his 'Uncle' becoming the most powerful Don in the city and it was for this reason that the crime boss initially kept him close. The only good thing he could claim for himself was his relationship with Jenny, who by this point he'd started a relationship with.
However, things changed forever on the night of Jackie's twenty first birthday, when he discovered that he was host to something known only as the 'Darkness', an ancient entity that granted him the use of great, terrible dark powers. Using these powers to great effect to further himself in his criminal lifestyle, Jackie initially revelled in the additional violence and carnage but soon came to realise the price it came with. The Darkness indeed had a mind of its own and would impose its will on Jackie on a whim, whilst other times it would simply taunt him over and over with a searing voice which only he could hear. At the same time, his 'Uncle' Paulie had grown paranoid of Jackie seeking to topple him from his control over the family and attempted to have him killed, to no avail. In response, Jackie fought back against Paulie and significantly damaged several of his operations, prompting him to bomb the same orphanage which Jackie had grown up in and kidnap Jenny. Coming to her rescue, Jackie found the Darkness imposing its will upon him once again and despite his attempts to break free, he was ultimately forced to watch Paulie execute her before his own eyes.
Distraught by grief and unable to continue living without his beloved, Jackie was able to resist the will of the Darkness just enough to break free and end his own life with the same pistol which had been used to murder Jenny. However, it would not be Jackie’s end; instead, he awoke in a hellish place known only to him as the ‘Otherworld’, a realm constructed by the Darkness to hold him whilst it repaired his body. In this instance, the Otherworld resembled a nightmarish version of the First World War’s trenches filled with patchwork Axis soldiers, and as Jackie made his way across, he soon came across a distant yet somehow familiar face; Anthony Estacado, his great grandfather who had fought during the war.
With Anthony’s help, Jackie was able to fight his way through the Otherworld until he finally reached the Heart of the Darkness. Unfortunately, Anthony died during the breach of the Heart yet was able to offer a few final words of advice before the Darkness finally claimed him, and it was with this that Jackie was able to face down the Darkness. Ultimately he surrendered himself to the Darkness as opposed to fighting as it expected, and it was through this that he was able to seize back control of himself from the entity (Partially due to the fact that the Darkness knew he would embark on a killing spree in which it could revel), yet it offered him a few final words of warning before everything blacked out.
Jackie awoke in the mortal world once more, and again with nothing to lose and vengeance being the only thing that persisted within his mind, Jackie relentlessly fought to get to Paulie once again, killing a large number of important figureheads and associates in the Franchetti Crime Family in the process including corrupt Chief of Police Eddie Shrote, all whilst the Darkness revelled in the chaos it had created. Eventually, Jackie made a final siege on Paulie's offshore mansion in the midst of an eclipse and massacred the entirety of the Franchetti household with his Darkness powers, leaving not a soul alive. Paulie cowered in the lighthouse before Jackie eventually made his way up, before executing his 'Uncle' who cursed him to the grave. He'd taken his revenge and had toppled New York City's most powerful crime family in the process, leaving a power vacuum for the other families to squabble over.
Since then, few have heard of his whereabouts in the six months which have passed, though rumours still continue to circulate that shortly before his dissapearance Estacado was offered a chance to seize the reigns of the family by the Chicago committee.
Why have you chosen this character?: It's the one I have the most experience/knowledge with. I've played through both of the video game adaptations for the Darkness (The first was better, IMO) and I've done my research into the comics (And I've read a few issues), so I figured it'd be something I could work with best.
Provide a sample post as the character you wish to portray, three paragraphs or more and with at least one line of dialogue:
((https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVwhNpiFkoc appropriate music))
Six months ago
Behind him lingered the copper-tinged scent of blood, the faint groans and pleas of mercy of what little remained of the men who’d survived his onslaught. For a moment, Jackie heard the scuttling of a tiny creature with oily black skin and a gremlin-like appearance and disinterestedly glanced away as it gnawed on the finger of a dead man. Death walked in the halls of House Franchetti today. He should’ve known - he was death, but something far worse lingered deep inside of him; a terrible force with an age that extended past the universe itself. It too sensed the death around it and revelled in the chaos, its cold disembodied voice letting out the closest thing it ever had ever known to laughter. Drawing past the door, a familiar voice with a stereotypical mobster-type accent that made Jackie want to pulverise a thousand faces called out from above, heavy footsteps clanking against the grating spiral that was the lighthouse stairwell.
“You think you made a difference here, Estacado? Nothing’s changed, you fuckin’ piker!”
His fingers tightened around the grip of the remaining pistol he still owned, the faint smell of half a dozen magazines dispensed into a dozen bodies still lingering close to the barrel. He kept on climbing, following the footsteps. Again, the voice called out.
“You brought this on yourself Jackie, I didn’t do shit that you didn’t do yourself!”
Clambering his way up a ladder, he felt the footsteps growing nearer - yet evermore frantic. Fear was in the air. He smelled it. The Darkness smelled it, and it was simple telling how it was excited to be present as its host claimed one final soul. Reaching the top, he could hear that mobster-voice screaming down to him again.
“The problem with you is, you never learned to listen! You always wanted to be me, but it doesn’t work that way, Jackie!”
The door was still ajar, leading out onto another set of steps which led to the final point atop the lighthouse. Outside, the sky was a pitch black; the only source of light being the faint rim of sun which had been eclipsed by the moon. Convenient timing, perhaps? Or maybe the Darkness had some hand in an ancient prophecy. It didn’t matter, soon he’d reach the end of his journey. Drawing back the door to the lantern room, he heard that same frantic voice scream out a final threat. “You’re a dead man, you hear me?! A dead man!” Gunshots followed and Jackie felt specks of blood seep down his coat from where one of the rounds had slammed into his shoulder, but it didn’t bother him; instead he fired off another two rounds and left the middle aged crime boss sprawled across the floor, grunting in pain as he clutched at his stomach. That same disembodied voice that was the Darkness spoke out to him yet again, yearning for the kill more than it ever had before.
”Finish him...”
Jackie took several steps towards his Uncle Paulie, remaining silent and monotone as he observed Don Paulie Franchetti - once a powerful man, feared by half of New York City and begrudgingly respected by the other - beg for his life. “Listen, Jackie. I been thinkin’, I know this worked out bad for the both of us but there’s no need to be rash here...” The last word sounded like a half-restrained sob. “Why don’t you fuckin’ listen to me, you piece of shit!”
”Take his life...”
The Darkness wanted this one so badly. He could feel it inside him, that urge to unleash a black hell and tear Uncle Paulie asunder, that hunger which yearned to taste the man’s oily heart. But Jackie wasn’t killing for the family, or for the business, or for the darkness. This one was for himself. For Jenny. “Jackie, I-” Wordlessly, he unloaded what remained of his pistol clip into Uncle Paulie, yet even that allowed the man to spit a few final words as he choked through layers of blood, phleghm and whatever else the bastard had inside of him. “Estacado, you... fuckin’ piece of shit... I hope you rot in hell forever..”
‘I already am’, Jackie thought.
And that was the end of the line.
Player Name: Zombiedude101
Character: Jackie Estacado AKA The Current Host of the Darkness
Powers and abilities:
First and foremost, Jackie is the current host of the Darkness, an ancient, evil entity which is capable of granting its user great powers beyond those of mortal limitations. With his darkness powers, Jackie can construct nearly anything out of the Darkness’ essence, ranging from a chitinous armour, to wings that allow him to fly, to magically infused firearms. With the Darkness, he can summon an army of minions known as ‘Darklings’ (Which tend to have their own little personalities and so) to use at his disposal and can also summon a number of snake-like ‘tentacles’ which protrude from his back. He also possesses a highly accelerated healing factor, superhuman strength, superhuman agility and a general resistance to injury or pain, whilst the Darkness will slowly reconstruct his body if he suffers a fatal injury. During this experience, Jackie will find himself in the ‘Otherworld’, a dream-like reality created by the Darkness to keep him distracted whilst it repairs his body. The Otherworld has many forms, ranging from a nightmarish version of a trench frontline during the First World War to a strangely quiet mental asylum. It often varies.
However, he possesses a single major weakness; light. As one would expect from an entity known as the Darkness, Jackie’s powers will not function when exposed to light. His dark constructs and minions will crumble into dust upon making contact with it, whilst his dark essence will recede until it has dissipated. In short, his powers will weaken when in contact with light until they no longer function, forcing Jackie to use creative means (Such as shooting out lights or specifically staying in the shadows) in order to continue using them. Powers aside, Jackie is a very competent man in terms of handling weaponry and particularly excels in the use of pistols, two of which he often carries in his concealed holsters and dual wields as his signature weapons. He also possesses some skill in hand-to-hand combat, specifically martial arts.
Alignment Jackie's alignment is something of a difficult topic; he's been known for both kind and terrible acts and he's well aware that by this point if there's any shred of soul remaining inside of him, he's headed straight to hell if the Darkness ever lets him go. Chaotic Neutral.
Character Notes
Chief of Police Eddie Shrote is dead - having been assassinated in a church bombing six months prior
Don Paulie ‘Kill the Children Too’ Franchetti is dead - having been found executed on the grounds of his offshore mansion
The Franchetti Crime Family - once a highly influential and overall powerful organisation - is now in disarray due to the lack of an established head and the fact that a large number of its enforcers and lieutenants have been killed off
The NYPD is currently undergoing reform after it’s revealed that the late Chief of Police Eddie Shrote had close ties to Paulie Franchetti and was said to have been under his payroll alongside numerous other officers, and was also linked to the bombing of an orphanage
Butcher Joyce is a ‘cleaner’ working in New York, often known for not taking sides against or for the families
Origin and backstory (as you see it):
Born somewhere in New York City to an absent father and a mother who died very shortly after childbirth, Jackie Estacado spent much of his early childhood growing up in St. Mary's Orphanage alongside his long-time childhood friend and sweetheart, Jenny Romano. However, from a very young age he quickly involved in the seedy underworld of New York after the head of the Franchetti Crime Family, his 'Uncle' Paulie "Kill the Children too" Franchetti opted to adopt him to raise in the mob after being passed whispers from a mysterious individual that Jackie’s influence would bring him to great power over the other families. Believing this to be partially related to the fact that Jackie's late father Danny Estacado had a reputation for being particularly vicious, Paulie seized the opportunity to groom his 'Nephew' into a Hitman for the family. As the years progressed, Jackie gradually took to the mafia lifestyle, becoming more and more addicted to it as he matured, losing his virginity at the age of fourteen to a female police officer during an interrogation and committing his first hit at sixteen years old. True to the 'prophecy' that Franchetti had been foretold of, Jackie's actions within the mob led to his 'Uncle' becoming the most powerful Don in the city and it was for this reason that the crime boss initially kept him close. The only good thing he could claim for himself was his relationship with Jenny, who by this point he'd started a relationship with.
However, things changed forever on the night of Jackie's twenty first birthday, when he discovered that he was host to something known only as the 'Darkness', an ancient entity that granted him the use of great, terrible dark powers. Using these powers to great effect to further himself in his criminal lifestyle, Jackie initially revelled in the additional violence and carnage but soon came to realise the price it came with. The Darkness indeed had a mind of its own and would impose its will on Jackie on a whim, whilst other times it would simply taunt him over and over with a searing voice which only he could hear. At the same time, his 'Uncle' Paulie had grown paranoid of Jackie seeking to topple him from his control over the family and attempted to have him killed, to no avail. In response, Jackie fought back against Paulie and significantly damaged several of his operations, prompting him to bomb the same orphanage which Jackie had grown up in and kidnap Jenny. Coming to her rescue, Jackie found the Darkness imposing its will upon him once again and despite his attempts to break free, he was ultimately forced to watch Paulie execute her before his own eyes.
Distraught by grief and unable to continue living without his beloved, Jackie was able to resist the will of the Darkness just enough to break free and end his own life with the same pistol which had been used to murder Jenny. However, it would not be Jackie’s end; instead, he awoke in a hellish place known only to him as the ‘Otherworld’, a realm constructed by the Darkness to hold him whilst it repaired his body. In this instance, the Otherworld resembled a nightmarish version of the First World War’s trenches filled with patchwork Axis soldiers, and as Jackie made his way across, he soon came across a distant yet somehow familiar face; Anthony Estacado, his great grandfather who had fought during the war.
With Anthony’s help, Jackie was able to fight his way through the Otherworld until he finally reached the Heart of the Darkness. Unfortunately, Anthony died during the breach of the Heart yet was able to offer a few final words of advice before the Darkness finally claimed him, and it was with this that Jackie was able to face down the Darkness. Ultimately he surrendered himself to the Darkness as opposed to fighting as it expected, and it was through this that he was able to seize back control of himself from the entity (Partially due to the fact that the Darkness knew he would embark on a killing spree in which it could revel), yet it offered him a few final words of warning before everything blacked out.
Jackie awoke in the mortal world once more, and again with nothing to lose and vengeance being the only thing that persisted within his mind, Jackie relentlessly fought to get to Paulie once again, killing a large number of important figureheads and associates in the Franchetti Crime Family in the process including corrupt Chief of Police Eddie Shrote, all whilst the Darkness revelled in the chaos it had created. Eventually, Jackie made a final siege on Paulie's offshore mansion in the midst of an eclipse and massacred the entirety of the Franchetti household with his Darkness powers, leaving not a soul alive. Paulie cowered in the lighthouse before Jackie eventually made his way up, before executing his 'Uncle' who cursed him to the grave. He'd taken his revenge and had toppled New York City's most powerful crime family in the process, leaving a power vacuum for the other families to squabble over.
Since then, few have heard of his whereabouts in the six months which have passed, though rumours still continue to circulate that shortly before his dissapearance Estacado was offered a chance to seize the reigns of the family by the Chicago committee.
Why have you chosen this character?: It's the one I have the most experience/knowledge with. I've played through both of the video game adaptations for the Darkness (The first was better, IMO) and I've done my research into the comics (And I've read a few issues), so I figured it'd be something I could work with best.
Provide a sample post as the character you wish to portray, three paragraphs or more and with at least one line of dialogue:
((https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVwhNpiFkoc appropriate music))
Six months ago
Behind him lingered the copper-tinged scent of blood, the faint groans and pleas of mercy of what little remained of the men who’d survived his onslaught. For a moment, Jackie heard the scuttling of a tiny creature with oily black skin and a gremlin-like appearance and disinterestedly glanced away as it gnawed on the finger of a dead man. Death walked in the halls of House Franchetti today. He should’ve known - he was death, but something far worse lingered deep inside of him; a terrible force with an age that extended past the universe itself. It too sensed the death around it and revelled in the chaos, its cold disembodied voice letting out the closest thing it ever had ever known to laughter. Drawing past the door, a familiar voice with a stereotypical mobster-type accent that made Jackie want to pulverise a thousand faces called out from above, heavy footsteps clanking against the grating spiral that was the lighthouse stairwell.
“You think you made a difference here, Estacado? Nothing’s changed, you fuckin’ piker!”
His fingers tightened around the grip of the remaining pistol he still owned, the faint smell of half a dozen magazines dispensed into a dozen bodies still lingering close to the barrel. He kept on climbing, following the footsteps. Again, the voice called out.
“You brought this on yourself Jackie, I didn’t do shit that you didn’t do yourself!”
Clambering his way up a ladder, he felt the footsteps growing nearer - yet evermore frantic. Fear was in the air. He smelled it. The Darkness smelled it, and it was simple telling how it was excited to be present as its host claimed one final soul. Reaching the top, he could hear that mobster-voice screaming down to him again.
“The problem with you is, you never learned to listen! You always wanted to be me, but it doesn’t work that way, Jackie!”
The door was still ajar, leading out onto another set of steps which led to the final point atop the lighthouse. Outside, the sky was a pitch black; the only source of light being the faint rim of sun which had been eclipsed by the moon. Convenient timing, perhaps? Or maybe the Darkness had some hand in an ancient prophecy. It didn’t matter, soon he’d reach the end of his journey. Drawing back the door to the lantern room, he heard that same frantic voice scream out a final threat. “You’re a dead man, you hear me?! A dead man!” Gunshots followed and Jackie felt specks of blood seep down his coat from where one of the rounds had slammed into his shoulder, but it didn’t bother him; instead he fired off another two rounds and left the middle aged crime boss sprawled across the floor, grunting in pain as he clutched at his stomach. That same disembodied voice that was the Darkness spoke out to him yet again, yearning for the kill more than it ever had before.
”Finish him...”
Jackie took several steps towards his Uncle Paulie, remaining silent and monotone as he observed Don Paulie Franchetti - once a powerful man, feared by half of New York City and begrudgingly respected by the other - beg for his life. “Listen, Jackie. I been thinkin’, I know this worked out bad for the both of us but there’s no need to be rash here...” The last word sounded like a half-restrained sob. “Why don’t you fuckin’ listen to me, you piece of shit!”
”Take his life...”
The Darkness wanted this one so badly. He could feel it inside him, that urge to unleash a black hell and tear Uncle Paulie asunder, that hunger which yearned to taste the man’s oily heart. But Jackie wasn’t killing for the family, or for the business, or for the darkness. This one was for himself. For Jenny. “Jackie, I-” Wordlessly, he unloaded what remained of his pistol clip into Uncle Paulie, yet even that allowed the man to spit a few final words as he choked through layers of blood, phleghm and whatever else the bastard had inside of him. “Estacado, you... fuckin’ piece of shit... I hope you rot in hell forever..”
‘I already am’, Jackie thought.
And that was the end of the line.
I'm back, anyway. Gimme a heads-up on anything that needs doing.
Sorry, been away a couple days; I'm still working on Estacado's app but our favourite mobster-turned-host will be coming back soon.
Yeah, I'm heading off till Saturday but if I can I'll try and check up on the docs in the meantime up until I get back. Sorry.
I'm interested. Expect another post within the next couple days.
Today’s events had practically topped off those of the past few days, outdoing the general civil unrest and curfews which had recently frequented Chico. Even from well behind the borders of the haven, Coltrane was able to make out the sudden appearance of a military helicopter in the far distance and had been on his way join the watching crowd near the scene if only out of curiosity for what was going on. Unfortunately, by the time he’d actual reached the crowd the helicopter had landed and the people onboard were trickling into the haven. “Damn,” he muttered. “Guess Bruce was right about those choppers.”
Six well armoured figures collected around the helicopter with accessorized rifles hung off the front of each of their tactical vests. Dominant hands hovering over the grips of their weapons, the figures scanned the crowd through dark lensed goggles. The seventh figure, feminine despite the armour, disembarked beside two far less prepared men. Of the men, one was bandaged and smirking.
The seventh soldier let out a grunt and raised a hand. Immediately, the soldiers raised their goggles. Only then did their leader raise hers and pay any attention to the crowd. She turned to the two non-combatants and pointed to the gawking crowd. While the posturing all seemed rigid, her words to them looked softer, almost human. Like that the two offered awkward salutes and limped into the crowd. Of them, the bearded one seemed to eye Coltrane. The leader glanced over the crowd once again, slow as if memorizing each face, before giving a small grin and calling out, “Begin!”
In a snap the pilot joined the seven. Four groups formed and, without another word, disappeared into the crowd.
Frowning, Coltrane swore that there was something odd about the bearded man - even though this whole situation itself was out of the ordinary. Hell, it’d been a long time since he’d seen any sign of the military which hadn’t been reduced to a mass of skeletal, limping corpses that wanted to tear him apart, and even then the soldiers he’d seen had either disappeared on some lost cause to save the old world or struck out on their own in this unforgiving new land. Shifting his focus back towards their leader, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something unusual about her or the intentions of the little crew she had there.
Pressing on through the dwindling crowd, Coltrane squinted yet against as he watched the group descend from the makeshift helipad and his eyes darted towards the bearded man yet again, still trying to figure out why the man struck him as a familiar face when it occurred to him that he’d definitely seen the man before - specifically when he’d run into the convoy comprised of Daryl, Abbie and the others back on the road and hooked up with them. The bearded man had definitely been one of them, for sure, but he couldn’t recall the man’s name for some reason, though that was probably because they’d never really spoken at the time.
Still, Coltrane clamoured for a familiar - and presumably friendly - face who’d be more likely to greet him in a mutual manner, and if anything the man looked like he also probably wanted to talk with someone who he already knew, vaguely or otherwise. Weaving in and out between the remaining onlookers whose interests were still piqued by the sudden appearance of a military helicopter and its crew at the haven, Coltrane slow zeroed in towards the bearded individual and his bandaged friend until he’d finally caught up next to them, before placing a hand on the former’s shoulder to grab his attention. “Hey man, I don’t know if you recognised me from the highway or not,” he began, a little unsure on how to start the conversation “At any rate, it’s Coltrane - I don’t think I caught your name.”
At the edge of the crowd, the three stood in quiet for a moment. Simon recognized the man, but had to glance about before saying a word. When his head stilled his vision kept spinning. His stomach churned and his head again felt light. He staggered toward Coltrane, catching himself on the bewildered man’s shoulder.
“I-Food. Please,” he stammered, willing himself conscious. Suddenly his body felt heavy.
Crowds formed throughout the streets. Every group told a different story of the helicopter, but just trying to stand, Simon forgot the details of each with the next. Coltrane quickly pointed towards a two-story house with a ragtag sign worn across the front. The name read Zed’s Bite-n-Run in big, lovingly painted red letters. Before he could protest or leave, Simon found himself sitting at a table in the mix of natural and candle light. Half a dozen people sat at the bar. Their faces were just blurs.
A minute later, Coltrane set a plate in front of Simon and took a seat between him and Remmy. Leaning in, he pointed to the modest portion and slowly instructed, “Take it steady man, don’t wanna be throwing it up.” Frowning, he looked the two up and down and speaking up once again. “So... who are you two?”
“Simon. That’s Remmy.”
Six well armoured figures collected around the helicopter with accessorized rifles hung off the front of each of their tactical vests. Dominant hands hovering over the grips of their weapons, the figures scanned the crowd through dark lensed goggles. The seventh figure, feminine despite the armour, disembarked beside two far less prepared men. Of the men, one was bandaged and smirking.
The seventh soldier let out a grunt and raised a hand. Immediately, the soldiers raised their goggles. Only then did their leader raise hers and pay any attention to the crowd. She turned to the two non-combatants and pointed to the gawking crowd. While the posturing all seemed rigid, her words to them looked softer, almost human. Like that the two offered awkward salutes and limped into the crowd. Of them, the bearded one seemed to eye Coltrane. The leader glanced over the crowd once again, slow as if memorizing each face, before giving a small grin and calling out, “Begin!”
In a snap the pilot joined the seven. Four groups formed and, without another word, disappeared into the crowd.
Frowning, Coltrane swore that there was something odd about the bearded man - even though this whole situation itself was out of the ordinary. Hell, it’d been a long time since he’d seen any sign of the military which hadn’t been reduced to a mass of skeletal, limping corpses that wanted to tear him apart, and even then the soldiers he’d seen had either disappeared on some lost cause to save the old world or struck out on their own in this unforgiving new land. Shifting his focus back towards their leader, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something unusual about her or the intentions of the little crew she had there.
Pressing on through the dwindling crowd, Coltrane squinted yet against as he watched the group descend from the makeshift helipad and his eyes darted towards the bearded man yet again, still trying to figure out why the man struck him as a familiar face when it occurred to him that he’d definitely seen the man before - specifically when he’d run into the convoy comprised of Daryl, Abbie and the others back on the road and hooked up with them. The bearded man had definitely been one of them, for sure, but he couldn’t recall the man’s name for some reason, though that was probably because they’d never really spoken at the time.
Still, Coltrane clamoured for a familiar - and presumably friendly - face who’d be more likely to greet him in a mutual manner, and if anything the man looked like he also probably wanted to talk with someone who he already knew, vaguely or otherwise. Weaving in and out between the remaining onlookers whose interests were still piqued by the sudden appearance of a military helicopter and its crew at the haven, Coltrane slow zeroed in towards the bearded individual and his bandaged friend until he’d finally caught up next to them, before placing a hand on the former’s shoulder to grab his attention. “Hey man, I don’t know if you recognised me from the highway or not,” he began, a little unsure on how to start the conversation “At any rate, it’s Coltrane - I don’t think I caught your name.”
At the edge of the crowd, the three stood in quiet for a moment. Simon recognized the man, but had to glance about before saying a word. When his head stilled his vision kept spinning. His stomach churned and his head again felt light. He staggered toward Coltrane, catching himself on the bewildered man’s shoulder.
“I-Food. Please,” he stammered, willing himself conscious. Suddenly his body felt heavy.
Crowds formed throughout the streets. Every group told a different story of the helicopter, but just trying to stand, Simon forgot the details of each with the next. Coltrane quickly pointed towards a two-story house with a ragtag sign worn across the front. The name read Zed’s Bite-n-Run in big, lovingly painted red letters. Before he could protest or leave, Simon found himself sitting at a table in the mix of natural and candle light. Half a dozen people sat at the bar. Their faces were just blurs.
A minute later, Coltrane set a plate in front of Simon and took a seat between him and Remmy. Leaning in, he pointed to the modest portion and slowly instructed, “Take it steady man, don’t wanna be throwing it up.” Frowning, he looked the two up and down and speaking up once again. “So... who are you two?”
“Simon. That’s Remmy.”
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