Log: Welcome to the Family Who: Helena Bertinelli NPCs: Paolo "The Brains" Santiago, various Mafioso family heads Where: Sullivan's - Midtown When: March 2 - Evening What: Helena asserts herself as head of Gotham's newest Mafioso Rating PG-13 - Violence
Paolo "The Brains" Santiago was a man of many words and even more promises. When Gotham fell, he had promised the Accorsi's a territory worth fighting for. He had promised the De Luca's guns. He had promised the Nasato's food. Now he had come to promise the Sullivan's a way out. Could he deliver? Of course not, but by the time they figured it out they would be too busy killing one another to care. This was his plan and his plans never failed.
The man stepped into the abandoned restaurant that the Sullivan's had used as a front for all their schemes. Though it was no longer operable, the place still held a certain charm. Most of the tables were still in place, though the chairs were scattered and the table clothes were gone. Black and white pictures lined the walls in cracked and shattered frames, the smiling faces indistinguishable. What a shit hole.
"Hello?" he called as he scouted the place. It wasn't like Donald to keep a man waiting. Especially not when the fate of his family was resting on it. "It's Paolo! We gonna deal or not?"
The unhinged door to the kitchen toppled over and the shadow of a large man stood in the doorway. Paolo would recognize that form anywhere. "Hey, Donnie, what's with the act? We're all friends here."
Donald Sullivan walked through the door, but he was not along. Tommy Accorsi followed behind, with Alfred De Luco and Vito Nasato in tow. Paola felt the color drain from his face as they surrounded him, each looking more and more grim.
"Didn't realize this was the meeting of families," he managed to choke out. "What brings you all here?"
"A 'who' actually." Paolo failed to realize that the men had been followed out by one tall, dark-haired woman. Her blue eyes were shining like a predator about to feast and there was a smirk on her lips that stopped his heart. In that moment, Paolo Santiago knew he was going to die.
"And who are you?" he asked, voice cracking.
"Helena Bertinelli. I suggest you sit down before each of these men finds a limb to break."
Paolo did not argue. He dropped onto the nearest table and perched upon it. His eyes wavered between the four men who were closing in around him.
Helena plucked a battered chair from the floor and set it upright, seating herself before Paolo. Though he now towered over her, she still held the power. "Paolo, the promises that you made these men...can you keep them?"
"W-What?" the man stuttered, his eyes locking on her's. "Yes, yes! Of course I can!"
A flash of silver caught his eye, but it took him a moment for his brain to process the pain of the dagger in his upper thigh. He shouted out a slew of curses and then bit his tongue.
"Don't lie to me, Paolo. Can you get these men what you promised them?"
Paolo looked up, face red and his temper flaring. He wanted to shout at her, curse her name, but her had was going for the firmly embedded blade and he quickly ceased all his rebellious thoughts. "Some of them," he whimpered. "And not all the way I promised. But I can get you a cache of weapons. I can get food. Water!" Helena's hand wrapped around the blade and she gave it a small wiggle. The man choked on a sound of pain, "Some food, mostly water!" he corrected.
The blade was slipped from the fleshy pocket of his leg and disappeared beneath the woman's dark jacket. "Good boy," she said, rising to add a humiliating slap to his cheek. "You bring me that, and we'll sew you up. Until then," she reached for his tie, stained with dirt and grim and started to loosen it, "you can use this to stop the bleeding." She forced the silken bundle into his hand before she walked away. "You have two days, Paolo. Don't disappoint me."
Paolo made a hasty attempt to tie the thin strip of cloth around his leg, no longer concerned with the other men in the room. He tipped forward, the table losing balance and sending him to the ground. Pain shot through him with alarming force and he was surprised to find he did not collapse.
"Oh, and Paolo?" Helena turned, the model of grace and sadism, "Welcome to the Family."