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thickasthievesrpg-hidden · 7 years

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GRAND PRIX DE MONACO

LOCATION: MONTE CARLO, MONACO DATE: MAY 26TH TO MAY 29TH, 2016

At night it glitters like a diamond catching the light, second only, perhaps, to the Casino de Royale-les-Eaux — though the Casino Royale is merely an illusion confined to the pages of Fleming’s novels and the Casino de Monte-Carlo is living, breathing, and solid under the feet of thieves, an endless labyrinth of wealth and power. Somewhere in the centre of the labyrinth, there is a room kept alive by whispers, a reality reserved for the legends told by thieves to their prodigies, a room that appears on no blueprints and all will say does not exist. And in that room, games that end in nothing less than irretrievable loss are played -- the players aren’t quite villains weeping blood over their hands, but they are the world’s most wealthy. Cards with gilded paper edges are lifted by hands bedecked in gold.

Power is not the room’s currency (it is worth nothing without the riches to back it up) but it is traded across the table with conglomerates and jewels far better than any king has to offer. It’s whispered, among naughty newly-initiated thieves, that Francis Villiers was once invited to play a game there. Even just the idea of the room has an indescribable pull for thieves, young and old, a legend of ultimate desire since the days of the Casino’s advent. To pluck the chips and promises from the table as games of roulette are played would be the greatest heist of all.

But that is not what they have come here for.

Seeds of rebellion are sowed among the crews. What point is there in coming to Monte-Carlo if not for the greatest prize of all? But they also know that they are currently being hunted, and this is a quest of distraction; to throw Interpol and their American counterparts off the Society’s trail. They must pull off something big; and this will be nothing if not sensational. And then seeds of a different kind take root. An old aristocratic family, once held hostage, is finally returning to the light in Monte-Carlo, on the eve of the Grand Prix.

The houses empty out to the streets, to the balconies and docks and restaurants and the roofs of hotels, rooms bare and unprotected as the Monégasque watch automobile-racing champions be crowned after a dizzying race and days of preparation and celebration. The Grand Prix de Monaco is the only Prix in the world still held in the streets of a city, the avenues along the water and leading past the villas forming the curves of the track. It is a weekend for the wealthy, wearing their rings and necklaces and designer labels even at the harbour. Temptation.

But little thefts like those, the crews decide, will pale against the miserable and vast fortune of the House of Luque Cabal. Aristocrats descended from courtesans who whispered in the ears of kings and dynasties, made rich by the New World and the remnants of a salt empire of Ghana and jewels of Persia, their children grew up with pockets lined in platinum and spending limits to match the modern era they stumbled into. And like so many of the wealthy targets the crews turn their hungry eyes upon, this family’s hubris was their downfall. One by one, the matriarch, her children, and then their children -- fell into the hands of a con artist who robbed them blind and stole their souls in the process. The Luque Cabals, desperate to recover their dignity and find the devil who ruined them, are converging on Monaco for the Prix. And that devil, when they arrive, will undoubtedly carry their prizes with them. The Society’s inside man carries news of a great fortune coming to Monte Carlo on the day of the Grand Prix, meant to change hands between one criminal and the next.

The Masterminds’ crews are here to steal it all back.

THE GRAND PRIX DE MONACO IS HELD ON 29 APRIL 2016. TAKE YOUR PLACES ON THE ROOFTOPS AND BALCONIES FOR THE VIEW OF A LIFETIME.

IC INFO

This is part of Project Diversion, a series of upcoming heists that are meant to throw both American and European law enforcement agencies off the Society’s backs.

Thieves are staying at the Casino de Monte-Carlo, each masquerading as a different wealthy guest, spoiled scion, event staff, or any other disguise that affords them front-row seating to the Grand Prix and whatever may happen during the day of the race.

An inside man has reported that the con artist who obliterated the House of Luque Cabal’s fortune will be in Monte Carlo on the 29th of April. They plan to meet a buyer during the Grand Prix, and the jewels and priceless artifacts will be changing hands.

The crews arrive three days prior to the Grand Prix, on 26 April, this will afford them time to do surveillance of the Casino, the site of the Grand Prix, and make a preliminary sweep of the guest list. They are under strict orders not to fraternize nor play during this time, though for some it is inevitably part of their faux-identity. These thieves are ordered to gather intel on the Casino floors.

The Grand Prix is described as so: “The Monaco Grand Prix (French: Grand Prix de Monaco) is a Formula One motor race held each year on the Circuit de Monaco. Run since 1929, it is widely considered to be one of the most important and prestigious automobile races in the world and, with the Indianapolis 500 and the 24 Hours of Le Mans, forms the Triple Crown of Motorsport. The circuit has been called "an exceptional location of glamour and prestige". The race is held on a narrow course laid out in the streets of Monaco, with many elevation changes and tight corners as well as a tunnel, making it one of the most demanding tracks in Formula One. It is a dangerous place to race. During the Grand Prix weekend spectators crowd around the Monaco Circuit. There are a number of temporary grandstands built around the circuit, mostly around the harbour area. The rich and famous arrive on their boats and the yachts in the harbour fill with spectators. Balconies around Monaco become viewing areas for the race too. Many hotels and residents cash in on the birds eye views of the race. (Source)

OOC INFO

Roleplaying for the Grand Prix will begin immediately.

26-28 April, the three days preceding the event in which intel and planning will be finalized, will be roleplayed from 1/29 to 2/02.

29 April, the day of the Grand Prix, will be roleplayed from 2/03 to 2/08.

Throughout this time, various updates with additional information on The Target will be released.

Locations include the Casino de Monte-Carlo, the streets of Monaco, and the Beauregard’s private yacht ‘Velours Bleu’, which floats in the Monte Carlo harbour in preparation for the race.

#lsrpg #lsrp #crime rp #crime rpg #bio rp #tatevent #tatheist #heist: grand prix

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thickasthievesrpg-hidden · 7 years

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WELCOME TO THE HEIST, HINA!

YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF ALESSIA CAPECCHI

A note from Admin Risa: Welcome back, Hina! Even when I was writing her bio, I knew that Alessia would be one of those legendary women characters who requires an equally stellar player to adequately portray her – in your app I felt that Alessia truly came alive in a dynamic and powerfully written montage, shifting from her days as a cruel sister to a capable leader to a cold, determined widow. I’m very excited to see you rejoin us! Congratulations on your acceptance! You’ve been to the museums, the banks, the isolated manors with their black dogs and gilded keys. You’ve stolen their necklaces, their jewels, the prized heirlooms in their vaults and their safes. They’ll watch out for you. Please visit the after acceptance page and submit your account within the next 24 hours – we’re excited to have you with us!

I. INTRODUCTION

Name/Alias + Pronouns:

Hina - she/her

Age:

I. BASICS

Desired Role:

Alessia Magdalena Capecchi

Analysis:

sexuality/romantic preference — Alessia identifies as a heterosexual. She is largely attracted to men and forms sexual relations with men, but is not opposed nor denies herself in being with women. If the matter pertains to a raw sexual desire, Alessia would approach either gender in a blunt fashion. If there was something she needed she wouldn’t mind opting for a more strategic, enticing method in seducing an individual. Either way, Alessia largely views her sexuality as a tool to fulfil a game and reach her goals. However, her husband Niccolo has a place that no one has ever or can ever replace. Her preference will be him and always him. She will never be able to completely be with another person because of how much he affected her.

determining a birthdate.

birthplace/hometown — Palermo, Sicily

occupation — As well as maintaining the image as the oldest Capecchi socialite figure in every day society, Alessia is also the proprietor of the Slaughterhouse, otherwise known as the Castello di Vitale. While it is known to some as the hub of pure crime itself, the restored baroque castle is open to all host to dinner parties, social event and galas that the Capecchis may hold.

criminal occupation — Alessia is the caporegime of the Sicilian mafia, she is the highest ranking member of the crime family and heads a crew of soldiers and enforcers who report directly to her and in turn she reports to Alejandro Herraro. While her soldiers aid her in any sort of criminal activity in general, Alessia’s main source of business is the cocaine and heroine made, packaged, sealed and shipped in the Slaughterhouse as well as the Sicilian Mafiosi HQ, Il Cuore, to cities world wide. She has been part of the heist for three years and is the partner in crime and coordinator of the crew. She takes part in coming up with plan of the job, tidying up the rough edges of any formulated plan and aids the Mastermind, her father, with anything that generally needs to be done. Alessia being Alessia can be overbearing in terms of putting her ideas forward. Usually she wants things running on her terms and terms only. Alessia has also been working with Charles Viliers for a long period of time. She provides him with men from her fighting rings for jobs that he requires; they have a good partnership.

Four Characteristics:

+ Strategical - Ever since Alessia could think coherently she has primarily been analysing and strategising the best way she can gain something that she wants or needs as quickly as she possibly can. When she was younger this was fundamentally material things, and while much has changed now she has honed this skill through analysation, perception as well as through the heist. Alessia’s strategical skills have been integral to the heist, father and Tomasso with whom she often pours over and goes through blueprints with. She is also the coordinator of their crew and is depended upon for the planning and sorting out the intricacies of an operation. Naturally all this has stemmed from Alessia’s love for games and experiments. While she can show traits of manipulation and recklessness in her mad games, strategy is implemented first of all, without of which her plans would fail and she wouldn’t be able to have her version of fun.

+ Manipulative - Alessia has learned the art of manipulation from a young age and while this can be represented as a negative trait, her warped sense of mind uses it for the benefit of herself and herself alone. She has learnt the way to mimic other people’s characteristics and behaviour so she is able to almost chameleon-like adopt them when necessary. However, her most effective and most used manipulative device is her physical appearance. Her sweet almost angelic facial features as a child led her to being passed over when something scandalous took place. She used this almost unconscious trust others had in her, even using her body against men and even some women to seduce them into her bidding.

- Unsociable - Alessia has never felt the need to be sociable in any situation she has been in. Of course she finds it necessary, fundamental event to be on good terms with people, especially in regards to her business or with her soldiers, she can’t be a leader when her people hate her. Yet she’s never felt the need to socialise or make any proper friends. Alessia believes that all in all its a waste of time. She doesn’t have the time to maintain a friendship or the effort of sitting down and meeting people just for the sake of it. There has to be something in it for her and when there is she’ll seduce, manipulate and even kill to get it. Because of this viewpoint of hers Alessia has often felt lonely. She is surrounded by people, her soldiers, her family, but now especially with her husband’s death she’s channelling this loneliness and loss in an unhealthy way.

- Reckless - Dealing with the criminal underworld requires a significant amount of risk and ambition, with Alessia however, she can tend to go above and beyond for a job or a task even if it means getting hurt in the process. During the heist she tends to keep a calm, controlled head, but because of her husband’s death she’s been emotionless, heartless, even more terrifying than ever before. At the end of the day she plays her part in the heist for one reason and one reason only, Niccolo Vitale, and she’s prepared to do whatever it takes for him.

- Unhinged - From the death of Niccolo and her obsession with the heist as some sort of memorial to him, Alessia’s mind has slowly been unraveling. While she may appear to be calm and composed during ventures and business deals, her relentless persistent nature for revenge has scarred her. It is possible to see Alessia this way during some instances during the Heist, especially when her dogged persistence is met with refusal or factors of the matter appear more challenging then they are.

Expansion:

Liling Chen - While Liling and Alessia aren’t cut from quite the same cloth, the intelligence and capability of a woman shaping and grasping a man’s world with both hands is something Alessia can respect. While she would definitely engage with the other woman for the sake of business or possibly even financial matters, Alessia views Liling as perpetually loud and brash, with her elegant, sophisticated beauty wasted due to either her inability at using it or a personal distaste. Alessia believes that while she can certainly respect the other woman to some extent, there would be no chance of her being able to last very long in their crew. Liling would not be able to stand the blood-thirsty nature of the Cappecchi crew, and she for one would not like to be told what she had to do and when with that booming voice of hers. I imagine a meeting of theirs to be a battle of wits, both either ending up strongly disliking each other or forming as civil of an exchange as they can muster.

Charles Villiers - Charles has never failed to puzzle her even to this day. She has always respected his business acumen and diligence to get the job done, but there was something about his cold, controlled demeanour that maybe even attracted her to him. However, at first there was always an unconscious comparison between him and Niccolo and when she fell head over heels in love with her now late husband, she was very much prepared to use and discard whatever they had to fulfil her own needs and desires. At the moment, Alessia and Charles are on civil yet slightly tense terms, she’s assuming that he hasn’t forgiven her for using him like that, but Alessia is not too concerned. Working together on the heist has not rekindled a relationship, there never was anything like a relationship with them even at the beginning, however it has stirred up some kind of emotion that she feels is worth to play out. Even if matters don’t work themselves out Alessia isn’t too concerned, she knows that because of their business their almost partnership they’re in it until the end.

Tommaso Capecchi - The relationship between the two of them changed ever since he left. When they were little Alessia could always count on her older brother to have her back. While they still share snide remarks and have a similar sense of dark humour they are not in the same place as they were before. At the moment, Alessia couldn’t care less about Tommaso’s love life, as long as he understood what was correct for the Family it was fine. She didn’t need her big brother anymore, in face she never did.

II. WRITING

Para Sample(s):

Para Sample(s): (tw, death, sex, violence, torture, swearing, blood)

They say that just before you are about to die you see the most important moments of your life flash before your eyes. You see myriads of colour and streams of bright light form into moving pictures behind your eyelids, turning and pinpointing those stages in your life that you love, regret, miss, want to do over, want to forget. So when the large oak doors of the Slaughterhouse were opened with a slam, rattling what she could only describe as the muted panes of coloured glass, and she could see the lifeless corpse of her amore being propped up and carried and placed, a pile of unanimated flesh beneath her feet. Her honey brown eyes drained the monochrome of the thunder and lightening in the distance, until the memories of her past turned into one of those black and white movies she detested.

They say that just before you are about to die you see the most important moments of your life flash before your eyes. And they are right, because her entire life lay dead right before her sight and it seemed to Alessia Vitale, no, Alessia Cappecchi, that each and every moment of her existence had led to them.

Alessia was fifteen years old and bored. She lay on a sun-bed in the large florescent Cappecchi Villa garden, Gucci glasses covering up her ever searching, glistening eyes. She tossed what seemed to be a small, but well made toy pellet gun in one hand before catching it with her well kept ivory nails, repeating the process again and again and again. She had stolen the toy from her brother a couple of days ago, she knew it was his as he had ran off, his stubby little legs chasing and gripping their mother’s skirts as he squealed about how he couldn’t find his favourite toy. She shut her eyes as she could hear bambino Circo’s annoying little voice at the back of her mind persistent and irritating like a little puppy dog that needed just one stomp of her boot to be silenced indefinitely. Alessia sometimes wondered if she kept squeezing and pressing into her little baby brother’s teeny-weeny fat cheeks, whether he would explode into something sickly like a burst of glitter and rainbows. But she would never go through with it, never really though, not when the reaction on Circo’s face after each and every one of her games was so priceless. Hiding mutilated animals in his toy box and removing them by the time he came back with his mamma… her train of thought halted as her mouth widened into a shark-like grin as she sat up from where she was reclining, letting the toy fall to the floor and shatter in small plastic tangerine bits. Alessia had a new game to play and her darling Circo, as always, would be the star of the show.

She could see Circo in the back of the Villa, their papa talking to him uninterestedly about training or a job that needed to be done, it was irrelevant information for now. She knew how she could get her brother over to her and willingly participate in whatever she wanted to by now. With her dark brown locks tucked elegantly behind her ear and her alluring doe eyes and full moon-shaped face full of promise, anticipation in the sense that whoever spent time with the golden, honeyed Cappecchi girl would come out with everything and more. Whether that be her siblings or the beautiful boys that she would kiss and touch and coo over in the Sicilian backstreets until they were in puddles of their own need.

“Circo, mio fratello, vieni qui.” Circo, my brother, come here.

He turned to look at her - their father having left just shortly before - immediate distrust pooling in his eyes. She spoke again, beckoning him to her with caramelised words, mimicking the way her mamma would lull and console him, offering him not a place of safety, but a mock olive branch so that he would gloss over the other past instances where he knew she was to blame.

It didn’t take long to chip away his distrust, one inquisitive step forward was all she needed to reel him in. Alessia threw him a beaming smile that didn’t quite reach up to her eyes until he was standing before her, an irritatingly condescending smug on his ten year old face.

“What’s all this then?” He asked her, nudging the objects laid out in front of her with the point of his shoe. Her mouth almost shrivelled in distaste when the hammer resting on the makeshift wooden boards almost fell from its place, baby Circo trying to appear too big for his designer boots.

“It’s a game, just a fun little game that I want you to play with me.”

“No.” It was as if he could sense it. Maybe her baby brother wasn’t so stupid after all. “I don’t want to play any of your games, Alessia. I’ll tell mamma on you.” Ever the mummy’s boy. He turned to leave.

“We’ll find out who’s the strongest between us, unless you’re too scared you’re going to lose.” Alessia smiled triumphantly as she watched her brother immediately take the seat opposite her. She knew his weakness, he was too proud, had too much of a dogged desire to prove.

Alessia explained the game, making up elaborate rules and intricacies so that his eyes shone with excitement and anticipation. He was finally going to beat his sorella. How cute. They took a hammer each with four planks of wood at varying thickness. The experiment was to see in how many hits it would take for them both to splinter the wood in half. Easy enough. She went first to reassure him of any lingering doubts, taking more than the necessary amount of hits for the wood to splinter. Not because she was letting him win her game, her games always involved a much larger picture. Alessia watched the joint in his wrist moved as he hammered away at the piece of wood before him.

If it took her three sharp hits on a plank of wood, how many would it take to shatter bone?

It was almost as if her hand moved with thinking. She reached for the smooth plastic hilt of tool and before Circo had in any time to react she aimed once, and with the precision of an executioner at their block, brought the hammer down on his wrist bone.

A cry akin to an animal’s howl filled the air, she stared at his face absorbing the reaction painted on his face. She watched as she recognised the feeling of pain at the crinkles in his eyes and the upturned corners of his mouth, she caught the shock, the flash of yet another betrayal in the ambers of his eyes. Alessia grinned as she heard a stifled sob in his voice as he got up as quickly as he was able to, shot her one look of pure loathing cradling his broken wrist in his other arm, before running off, howling to his beloved mamma.

If it took her three sharp hits on a plank of wood, how many would it take to shatter bone? The answer was one. Just one. How weak.

Alessia tidied up what was left of her game, before darting up to the loft above, not wanting the lectures of her mother and sobs of her brother to spoil the remainder of her fun. She had got what she wanted, a result and an array of reactions worthy to be drawn up and hung up in the Louvre. Nevertheless, Alessia knew that her time of antagonising her brother and the rest of siblings would come to an end. Not because she would get caught, never, she was too smart for that. But because she was bored, and she knew she would get better. Better for bigger, greater things.

“Is that enough? Do you think you have received the punishment you have deserved, abominato?” Alessia mock crooned bringing her face closer down as she dug her boot in the deep gash on the upper leg of the writhing mass of the grown man before her. “I’ve asked you a question, ladro,” she said, sending a boot to his stomach, winding him in the process, her tone growing colder and more steely as time ticked by. This man was testing her patience.

He groaned with pain, his body curling, cowering away from her. “Yes, I have please, please, Signorina. Have mercy.”

Alessia paused at his last two spoken words. They rang in her mind.

Have.

Mercy.

In that moment, Alessia Cappecchi couldn’t help herself but burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter.

Vincenzo Gomez; thirty four, married, two children, one of her oldest recruits, diligent, hardworking, worked well alongside her other soldiers, had dinner with her and several other soldiers; was caught selling information to a rivalling family for money. Mercy? Alessia Cappecchi didn’t give mercy. She gave retribution. And she gave it in full.

She suddenly stopped laughing, turning on the balls of her feet, an almost maniacal gleam in her eyes as she began to address the rest of her stoic soldiers.

“Ciascuno, la mia famiglia. Do you know what happens when someone in our family betrays us?”

“Yes, Signorina.” They replied in unison.

“What is the consequence of the person who betrays our family?”

“Death.”

“And have I, Alessia Magdalena Cappecchi been known to give traitors mercy?”

“No.”

She turned back to her betrayer, thoroughly satisfied with her dramatics, when she felt two quivering hands latch onto her ankles. Alessia turned to look at him, how dare he touch her with his filthy hands, her temper increasing rapidly when he spoke.

“Please Signorina, I had to do this, I was compelled to. My family, my wife, my sons, they were threatened, they would have had them killed.”

Alessia looked at him with a mixture of anger, disgust and pity. “Then they should have died,” she said enunciating each word slowly before releasing his hold on her with another swift kick to the chest. “Bring his family in,” she ordered, not needing to turn her head to address her soldiers. “I want a word with them.”

“No, no, no. Signorina. Please not them. I’ll do anything. Please. Kill me,” he begged a sob wracking in his throat each time he spoke. “Please. Kill me instead.”

“If that’s what you wish,” she said her mouth widening, forming a shark-like grin. She took out the pistol she always kept in her garter before pointing it, point blank, at the man’s forehead. She pulled the trigger and with a bang he was gone.

She sheathed her weapon back in her garter before walking apathetically past her soldiers. “Find someone to clean up the mess.”

Alessia turned her walk into a stride, planning on leaving the den to her own room where she could wash off the filth that she could feel that had suddenly accumulated on her body. She rounded a corner when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She stopped, pulling it out of her pocket and placing it against her ear. “What?” she asked in greeting.

It was Luca. “Signorina, Niccolo Vitale is here, he wishes to talk to you.”

Her eyebrows rose. Vitale. It was about time. “Alright. I’ll be over,” she replied, before disconnecting the call and walking to where the men would be.

She knew she was in the right place when she caught sight of Niccolo Vitale’s mouth form into a smirk as soon as he saw her. He was impeccably dressed as always, his hair combed, slicked back, his beard trimmed and newly styled. Two of his own soldiers stood on either side of him, both armed with an assault rifle. Alessia was unconcerned.

“Alessia, tesoro, you look beautiful in red,” he said. She looked down at her black suit trousers catching sight of the droplets of reddish brown that had encrusted on the fabric. He hand curled into a fist at his comment, but she otherwise ignored it, he played this game far too often, and Alessia was not ready to play. Yet.

“Are you ready to accept my deal, Vitale?”

“No, I’m not.”

Alessia felt her anger build. “Then why the fuck are you wasting my time. Do I look like I want to be fucked with?” She said, moving a step closer to him her eyes flashing.

“Fucked by me? Very much so.”

That was not the correct thing to say, as Alessia who had not come down from the adrenaline of shooting Vincenzo, closed the gap between them, extending her furled fist before unfurling it and bringing it down to his cheek in a backhanded slap, the rings sitting on her fingers connecting harshly with flesh. She was sure it would bruise. However, this man was no pushover as with immense force and speed he grabbed the offending hand, turning it behind her back and pushing her against the hard plains of his chest. Niccolo withdrew a knife from his belt placing it on the side of her neck, to find that one was already aimed directly at where his crown jewels hung. Alessia heard the clicks of the safety mechanism of their guns release, they were ready to fire. She turned her head to see the man more clearly, who in turn did the same to see her.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t command my men to kill you right where you stand.” She said.

He smirked, before lowering his tone so she was the only one who could hear him speak. “Because we are far too capable of handling ourselves.”

Alessia slowly nodded in agreement, her lips inadvertently forming a wide shark-like grin at their arrangements. “Fine. I’ll play. Stand down.”

At her words, as her men lowered their weapons, Niccolo simultaneously stepped back, not so that she could get away, but so he had easy access to twirl her around, bring the same hand up to his pink lips and kiss the back of her hand all while his eyes bored right back into hers.

They lay next to each other, side by side on a plush Queen sized bed in the second penthouse suite of The Gritti Palace Hotel. They lay next to each other, side by side, not touching except for the tip of their shoulders to the end of their upper arms. Alessia did not cuddle after sex - not yet she didn’t - but dioit was scintillating. She didn’t know if it was because just a couple of hours ago, while the gala was going on at full swing, the man next to her had a blonde, busty, flat-arsed puttana on his arm, that she would have dragged off by her hair and sliced with the machete that was tucked into her garter. Alessia knew she would get her soon enough, but she could swear that she told herself that when she saw him again tonight she was going to end things. She was going to have him. Alessia Cappecchi was prepared to throw away her pride over Niccolo fucking Vitale because every time they danced around each other, whether they ended up yelling, and arguing, and fighting each other so that they would have each other marks over their bodies or their voices would ring in each other’s heads for days, she knew they were both left with the same want, need, desire for each other that never sated but grew like a fucking ticking sexually frustrated time bomb that was ready to blow. He had paid for it tonight though, for testing her, when she gripped his hair too tight and bit too hard into his neck and scratched his back fierce enough that it drew blood. The bastard probably enjoyed it.

Alessia turned her head to where he lay to find him watching her, a sly sated smirk on his mouth, his arm extended half-way en route to rest on her bare stomach. She raised an eyebrow, but turned to the side, her fingers running up to tangle themselves in his tugged dark brown locks. He was irresistible goddammit. “What?” she asked.

He shook his head lightly before replying. “I’m thinking.”

She smirked. “About me?”

He returned it. “About prettier things.” She pulled at his hair in response. It was as if he could sense her becoming rigid and so wrenched her closer to his form.

“You know I’m joking, mio amore,” He brought his mouth closer to her ear as if he was going to impart with her the closest of secrets. “Diamonds and catacombs and emeralds, tesoro. Beautiful works of art and scriptures just lying in crypts and cellars and unfurnished bedroom walls. What if we could own all of that? Take it all for ourselves.”

Alessia let out a laugh at his words. His head was in the clouds, eyes starstruck from the stories of glittering gems and ancient texts. To have all would be to rule and while she knew that she would happily rule beside him, the Queen to his King, she had seen her family, Charles, become completely lost to the heist. Because that’s what he was describing, the power, the adrenaline rush before entering the victim’s lair. It was intoxicating. She wasn’t going to lose him. Not after she had just got him. “You’re dreaming, amore, forget about it,” she said pushing her breasts towards his face.

Niccolò let out a deep laugh. “If I was dreaming tosoro then I would be putting the Hope diamond on a chain around your neck. Dio, what wouldn’t I do to see Signora Niccolo Vitale,” she tugged his hair at that, he let out another laugh. “What wouldn’t I do to see you, Signora Alessia Magdalena Cappecchi Vitale, in nothing but the Hope diamond strung up between your perfect breasts,” he said with a groan before moving on top of her and burying his face in her neck.

Alessia’s eyes flew open her mouth thrown open breathing heavily as though she was struggling to take in air. She brushed her cheeks for any signs of tears. There weren’t any. She looked down, crouching running her fingers through her lover’s matted hair, his bruised face, his blood stained shirt. She could feel the red coppery liquid stain her fingers, she pressed harder as if trying to rub the stain out with her fingertips as if erasing the evidence of his hurt. Her movements got more and more frantic.

All she could feel was rage.

All she could see was red.

Alessia swiftly rose up, her knife drawn in an instance as she turned sharply on the ball of her heels to where the person behind her was standing. All of a sudden her knife was at their throat, their adam’s apple bobbing up and down up and down up and down, otherwise unprotesting, unyielding at he advances. She pressed her weapon harder into their neck, watching small beads of blood form around their jugular. Her eyes gleamed maniacally.

She was going to kill.

She was going to kill everyone.

Alessia’s eyes darted up to the person’s face as they exhaled. Her eyes widened a mixture of rage, confusion and relief flittering over her face as she recognised the man standing before her.

Luca.

She removed the knife from his neck sheathing it back in its place, before grabbing him by the collar and smashing her lips to his, pushing her tongue into his bewildered mouth. Before he was given any time to make a reaction she wrenched him back, but still held onto his shirt keeping him close proximity.

“Find them.”

Starter Example:

Alessia was torn, left in a horrid rut of a medial disposition where she was both unsatisfied and satisfied with the result that the had reached. She was almost at a crossroads with herself, her mind working at a mile per minute as her blood boiled with rage and cooled, a seemingly never ending cycle that had her on edge. Her business deal has gone sour, after all this was why she was seated in Ciro’s little whorehouse, a glass of red in one hand and a cigarette in the other, because she wanted, no needed, to drink until she reached a sense of oblivion, until she found clarity; shutting herself down to switch herself back on. Alessia would drink and smoke and sin tonight until she rose back up again full of satisfaction and pride and power.

It was at her third glass of wine she caught sight of a familiar face, their eyes met and she couldn’t resist an offhanded eye roll. Taking a puff of her cigarette, she exhaled deeply, slowly, white smoke mingling with the nightclub’s smell of sin. Alessia finally turned her head away. “Oh vaffanculo.”

III. FREESTYLE/EXTRA

Shortly after her husband’s death, Alessia strung up his and her wedding rings on a silver chain and wears them around her neck as a necklace. She’s waiting until the day she can do the same with the Hope diamond.

Niccolo’s words about him wanting to put the Hope diamond around her neck struck Alessia even before his death due to the amount of times he would voice his opinions about the heist to her. She knows that when she does get her hands on the diamond, wearing it and keeping it for herself is a very attractive prospect even for her.

Alessia is a Scorpio. They are described to have an icy interior and being of passionate nature. This describes her to some extent being extremely forward and wanting her own way of things. She can also be described as uncaring and selfish all of this forming her brutal and cold skeleton.

While some may bite their nails or twirl a strand of their hair when bored or nervous, when Alessia is displeased with someone or if someone has betrayed her she begins to grin quite viscously as an intimidation tactic and to hint as the fact that there’s more to come.

Despite Alessia being the owner of a large drug business, she is neither a drug addict nor is she a large consumer of any sort of drug. Yes she has dabbled, but mainly to try the strength and quality of the product, sometimes when planning a large, intricate heist she takes a bit of cocaine to help her think. She knows the risks of doing too much especially since she’s such a crucial part in the heist, but I can expect this changing soon in the future as she becomes more worked up and reckless.

She hates her name being shortened, even calling her by her surname displeases her at times. She is not just another Capecchi like she imagines Ciro to fully embrace, she is Alessia, a name that has been feared above all else. She always corrects those who warp it, from her lovers to sometimes even her father.

She sharpens her trusted machete almost religiously ever week. During the week of Niccolo’s death, she almost sliced her hand open while doing so.

#accepted

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