Meanwhile at the newly acquired Luciano Family Docks,
A ship slowly pulled into port as a woman stood on the balcony, her gaze locked onto the view.
Her arrival wasn't marked by a grand show; those who glimpsed her on the horizon might spare her a passing glance, but nothing more.
However, to beings who defied the natural order, those attuned to the magical resonance of the world around them, the air thickened, the density of the area abruptly increasing.
Even then, only one person capable of sensing such a dramatic shift remained unaware of the force sailing toward her.
The ship docked and life seemingly continued as usual, but as the luxurious boat anchored, only one woman disembarked.
The moment her foot touched the dock, her presence rippled outward.
Agatha, currently tending to Johnny, had her smile freeze as every inch of her skin formed goosebumps as she immediately felt the disturbance.
Her expression filled with horror, sensing the ominous force that had arrived and only knowing one person capable of this.
Snap
"Lock down the entire coven, DO IT NOW!" Agatha roared, her magic amplifying the command throughout the coven since there was only one person capable of instilling fear in a witch as powerful as her.
"Selene is here!"
Meanwhile at Midtown 20 W 44th Street,
"Thanks for the heads up right before we went into the meeting," Ricky said sarcastically, watching Lucky snicker as the towering luxury apartment came into view.
"Listen, these meetings don't happen when we want them; it's the other way around. Right now, it's most convenient for the High Table," Lucky explained, only for Ricky to suddenly glance out the window from the corner of his eye.
"What's with that look-"
"This place gives me the f*cking creeps," Ricky muttered, though his eyes remained as sharp as the blade at his waist.
Much like Agatha, who possessed the skill of Magic Awareness, Ricky also had the ability, though he wasn't as attuned to magic as Agatha, who had honed it for centuries.
However, his newly acquired skill, Temporal Insight, was screaming at him with an intensity he hadn't felt since his last battle with Dracula.
It made him on edge, positioning his body in the line in which it was blaring and somewhat shielding Lucky if a fight were to occur.
Lucky stayed silent, watching as Ricky gazed out the window until they arrived at the luxury hotel.
Even when they got out of the car, Ricky didn't loosen up until his skill vanished the second he crossed into the boundaries of the continental which caught him off guard.
Lucky continued forward while Ricky stared intently at the door, stepping just outside the boundary and feeling a faint twinge before quickly pulling his foot back, where the sensation vanished.
His skill essentially indicated that no threat would reach him as long as he remained within the confines of the hotel and strangely enough, he understood this perfectly.
'Damn, this skill is specific.' Ricky thought, feeling a little weirded out but going with the flow, turning around to follow Lucky.
He was a few steps behind due to a brief pause, but Ricky, striding along with his usual sleazy smile, suddenly scoffed.
The reason entirely had to do with the stares which were completely evident; Ricky could literally see through his void sight the murderous intent lurking around him at every subtle twitch the surroundings guests gave off.
Usually Ricky wouldn't care in the least, only when they started to outwardly express this murderous intent did he slowly come to a stop at the very heart of the lobby.
Red threads surrounded his eyes, revealing the clear intentions emanating from the people around him, intentions he had never seen before in the trial as these carried real intent to kill as he slowly raised a bloody smile.
Ricky usually followed his own whims and didn't care for hostility directed at him, finding it honestly hilarious when people insulted him with fear laced in their tone.
But when the intentions to kill spiraled all around him, his shamelessness sharpened, as if he couldn't shy away from confrontation.
Lucky didn't notice at first, only realizing Ricky wasn't behind him as he turned around only to see that look he knew too well.
"Slick don't you f*cking dare-"
Whoosh
A heavy weight pressed down on the heads of all the guests, his sovereign will bearing upon their refined psyches, each one hardened by the trials and tribulations of their own unspoken horrors.
Yet, despite all the atrocities they had seen and committed, their heads slowly started to bend under his green aura.
"What kind of dipsh*ts look at me like that but don't have the balls to do anything about it, come on, I insist-" Ricky immediately mouthed off, forgetting the rules for a moment as he was too caught up in retaliating.
"Excuse me, sir?" The receptionist called out to Ricky, noticing that only those who had shown any intent at all had their heads lowered forcefully as he turned to her.
"Violence of any kind is prohibited within continental grounds. I'd like to ask you to please refrain from using your powers on the premises," the receptionist added politely and Ricky immediately halted his use, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, my bad, I kinda forgot," Ricky said, his tone softening as he noticed the receptionist's lack of hostility and the kind smile on his face.
Knowing employees like her always had to put up with other people's sh*t, and seeing her genuine response, Ricky disarmed himself willingly.
"Not a problem, sir. We at the Continental understand your situation and are not bothered by your unfamiliarity with its rules. I thank you for your understanding," the receptionist said, offering a pleased smile as she found Ricky much easier to talk to than most of the people who walked through the doors.
"Now, how may I help you, sirs?" the receptionist asked with a polite smile as Ricky walked up next to Lucky at the front desk.
"I have an appointment under the Luciano family name," Lucky said calmly, pointing to the book as the receptionist smiled, opening the meeting book and patiently scanning through it.
"Luciano, Luciano-ah, here it is," the receptionist said with a calm tone, using her finger to scroll down until she found their name and finally looked up at them with a smile.
"You are here to be certified under the High Table and have your organization recognized as New York's territory, correct?" The receptionist asked as Lucky nodded at the accurate summary, smiling in response.
"They are preparing the review board. Would you be so kind as to wait in the lobby? And do not worry, everything will be complimentary during your stay," the receptionist gestured to the side as Lucky flicked his head, and Ricky followed, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
"Pretty swanky place-ow," Ricky whistled, commenting on everything around him, only to let Lucky smack him in the back of the head since he had literally warned him about the continental grounds beforehand.
"Really Slick, in the building-"
"I forgot-"
"Oh, save it for the chumps. We both know you would've kept going until you got a warning, regardless," Lucky scoffed, annoyed at his shamelessness as he plopped down on a seat with Ricky shrugging as a server approached them shortly after.
"Hello, I'm Holster, and I'll be your waiter for the duration of your stay. Would you care for anything to start?" Holster asked with a practiced smile, spitting out the same line that was seemingly ingrained into his brain as Ricky glanced at the menu briefly.
"Yeah, can I get a bacon, egg, and cheese with a-hmm, I wanna say, sangria?" Ricky mused, really taking the time to think out what alcoholic drink he wanted with his meal as the waiter smiled at the request.
"And for you Mr. Luciano?" Holster turned to Lucky, holding up his pen and paper to the seasoned man.
"Water is fine." Lucky smiled, holding up his hand to Holster who went to fill their order only for Ricky to frown.
"Wait, stop." Ricky suddenly held up his hand, halting Holster movements as he showed a look of concern.
"Did I miss something-"
"It's not that, get him a ham and cheese sandwich." Ricky immediately dissuaded Holster words, promptly ordering a meal for Lucky who scrunched his brows.
"What the hell are you doing, I ain't hungry-"
"Bull. Fcking. Sht." Ricky emphasized each word, scoffing with a laugh trickling in between as he wagged his finger side to side.
"I know what you're doing and it's not happening." Ricky crossed his arms, showing a smug expression as Lucky spread out his hands.
"Am I some sort of communist for ordering a glass of water-"
"No, no, don't you try to play it off and don't give this guy that look of innocence." Ricky laughed, literally stopping Lucky from doing what he always did when he was pissed off by him.
"Holster I'm fine, ignore this wack-"
"Holster, you bring that man a f*cking Ham and cheese sandwich-"
"Slick, I'm good, stop." Lucky raised his voice, stopping Ricky who was wiping his mouth before raising a hand.
"I am confused-"
"Holster, water is fine," Lucky said with a smile, beckoning the poor waiter away as Holster slowly backed up, making sure he wasn't going to be called back before he turned to leave.
Ricky frowned, slumping in his chair, almost as if he was pouting at the stunt Lucky was about to pull.
"Listen up-"
"I know, don't f*ck it up, I got it," Ricky said, holding up his hand, but Lucky met him with a serious expression, his gaze unwavering.
"That's not it, Slick. Listen, I'm officially gonna step down as head of the family," Lucky suddenly said, his words almost forcing Ricky to flinch, the unexpected words catching him off guard.
"Wait, what?"
"Listen, Lucky Legacy Bank is booming, and with everything going on, I barely have time for the family," Lucky explained, gesturing towards Ricky as the weight of balancing both the bank and the family was clear, revealing just how stressful the responsibility had become.
"And when you came back, y'know, with everything you've gone through and ended up doing, I sort of used your time at the trial to see if you were ready." Lucky explained, his words carrying a sincereness that was usually foreign to him.
"I mean, you're not, but beggars can't be choosers. To really be a leader, you have to grow into the role, it's not something you're just born with." Lucky couldn't help but joke, but Ricky, taken aback, sat in silence for a while, pondering the weight of it all.
It had always been clear what Lucky wanted for Ricky, he never hid his intentions for him to eventually take over the family.
But hearing it and having Lucky acknowledge that Ricky was ready were two entirely different matters.
Lucky would never jeopardize the family, and he would never step down unless he truly believed Ricky was prepared.
Even when he tried to brush it off with humor, it was a deeply significant moment, one that Ricky found hard to fully process, the weight of it lingering longer than he expected.
"I know it's gonna be rocky for a while, but I want you to take the reins of the family, and I want you to do it after getting the High Table's approval, by yourself," Lucky said, gesturing towards Ricky, who suddenly realized something.
"Don't tell me-"
"Yeah, kid, you're on your own," Lucky smiled, a hint of cheekiness laced with the warmth of pride as he looked at Ricky and in that moment, he was genuinely proud of him.
There's always that moment, the one only truly defined by a father and son relationship, where the father offers his recognition that his son has truly grown up.
It's rarely straightforward and usually subtle, like sharing a beer or handing over the keys to an old car but for Lucky, it was handing the family over to Ricky.
Ricky had grown used to people in his past life giving up on him, and in a twisted way, he always took pride in it, embracing the role of the irredeemable scumbag.
Ricky's father in his past life was an asshole, the kind who wanted him to commit suicide just to get back at his cheating mother.
It was why that void of a strong father figure had always lingered in him, a gnawing emptiness that made him unable to really grow out of that childish way.
But Lucky, he was his father.
He was the only one who never gave up on him, the only one who stood by him, even though they weren't blood.
When they first met, Ricky was a complete mess, drunk at the ripe old age of ten, yet for some strange reason, Lucky saw something in him that no one else ever had.
People often wondered why Ricky respected Lucky so much, but the answer was simple.
Lucky was the one who taught him how to be a real man, how to take responsibility, like any father should.
"Mr. Luciano, the review will start now." The receptionist said, walking over to Lucky as he gestured for Ricky to follow, still somewhat reeling from the weight of the conversation.
"I know it's sudden, but Slick here is the new head of the family so I think it's only right he shoulders this, right?" Lucky asked, clearly giving him an indirect chance to back down if he wasn't ready but Ricky simply smiled.
There was no need to hesitate, no need to ponder if he was truly ready, it didn't matter, Ricky wanted it.
He wanted the power, the family, and the heights he couldn't have even imagined before.
Ricky already had power, but now, he craved the notoriety that came with it as he was determined to be the man Lucky had raised him to be, the man who could carry the weight of it all.
"That's right, pops, I'm ready," Ricky smirked, standing up as the receptionist watched quietly, then calmly guided him to the side.
Lucky sat still, watching Ricky walk ahead, knowing he had done all he could as he had guided him, protected him, and helped shape him into the man he was now.
But he couldn't hold his hand forever, couldn't always clean up his messes and now, it was Ricky's time to stand on his own.
It was then that his breakfast arrived but instead of walking after Ricky, Lucky gestured for Holster to come over as he was handed the sangria and a bacon, egg, and cheese.
"Kid was right, Sangria was the move."
Click
Click
The sound of dress shoes clicking echoed through the vast hallway as Ricky walked, his eyes scanning the serene surroundings before shifting to the receptionist, who met his gaze with a neutral expression.
"So, how does it work? Do I just kinda sit in a chair and get interviewed or?" Ricky left the latter half of his question open, asking the receptionist who gave him a smile.
"A review is standard for any organization seeking recognition in the eyes of the High Table," the receptionist explained politely, her footsteps echoing as she walked a few paces ahead of him.
"Usually, a harbinger, an emissary of the High Table, is sent out," the receptionist informed him, her voice steady.
"But the Autem Imperator herself has come to review your petition personally. It is a great honor, which is why you were treated with such sincerity." The receptionist explained, arriving at the double doors, gesturing for Ricky to enter.
"I cannot enter through these doors; this is as far as I go." The receptionist notified Ricky as he glanced at the doors before shrugging, then pushed them open with a steady motion, stepping inside.
"So it was you," Ricky unabashedly proclaimed, his voice steady as he felt the same heavy presence from earlier as he gazed up at the figure shrouded in darkness.
There was no immediate response, only the subtle rhythmic tapping of a long black fingernail against the surface, the sound reverberating in the silence before slowly, the figure leaned in and out of the shadows that clung to them.
"It was," the figure hummed, her voice smooth yet chilling while Ricky's pants immediately stiffened as he locked eyes with her, watching as her lips, coated in black lipstick, curled into a slow, calculated smile.
Her beauty was a weapon sharper than any blade, her features carved with an elegance that bordered on the predatory.
Her eyes, deep and dark as the void, seemed to drink in the light around them, only to ignite with a faint red glow when her emotions flared.
Those pupils of hers carried the weight of centuries, a gaze that could pierce through the strongest of resolves and unravel secrets with unnerving ease.
Her brows arched sharply, a natural frame to her penetrating stare, lending her an air of imperious authority.
Beneath them, her nose was straight and refined, a perfect balance of symmetry and subtle dominance.
High cheekbones sculpted her face into something both regal and haunting, casting faint shadows that only enhanced her ethereal beauty.
Her lips, full and inviting, curved with the faintest hint of amusement or cruelty.
When she smiled, it was a masterpiece of control, a gesture that could just as easily ensnare as destroy.
Her jawline was a sculptor's dream, angular and defined, completing a face that was as much a work of art as it was a harbinger of doom.
This was Selene Gallio's visage and she was timeless, a haunting reminder of the power and danger lurking beneath such extravagant beauty.
"Did I scare you?" Selene playfully pondered aloud, puffing her lips as her eyes remained fixed on him, studying his every reaction with a quiet intensity.
"If anything, you've excited me," Ricky said, walking forward with confidence, shamelessly engaging with such a dangerous woman.
"Ricky Luciano," Ricky introduced himself, his smile sleazy and his eyes gleaming with the same audacity, betraying no hint of hesitation.
"Selene Gallio," Selene replied, her voice smooth and measured, observing Ricky's every move.
As he reached for her hand, she lowered it gracefully, allowing him to touch it and Ricky, ever the bold one, pressed his lips to the top of her palm.
DING
[Mission Received: Selene Gallio]
Difficulty: Hell
Character Sheet: SS+
Description: Selene is a woman draped in mystery, a figure who slips through the annals of history like a shadow, present, yet always just out of reach, too elusive to be captured in the grand narrative of time. Her presence stirs intrigue, a quiet force that beckons without revealing all of herself. She is someone who desires power, yet only the kind that doesn't consume or overwhelm her. Her strength is controlled, measured, never tipping over into chaos, as if she is always aware of the delicate balance she must maintain.
Objective: Do it raw with no regrets
Reward: 1,000,000 IP
Main Mission:
Impregnante Once: 10 Legendary Gacha, 30 Epic Gacha, and 100 regular gacha or Selene's Powers
Rewards:
Impregnate Twice:
Rewards: ?????????
Additional Missions:
In your first sexual exchange, stimulate an organism from her first(Incomplete):
Reward: Mythic Coupon
Somehow get Selene to admit her love for you without admitting it first(Incomplete):
Reward: Mythic Level Up
F*ck her out of the realm of control she always abides by(Incomplete):
Reward: 15 Selectable Stat Points
Bonus Missions:
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???????????????????
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???????????????????
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'Is this real? Of course yes, what the f*ck?" Ricky didn't hesitate, but it wasn't until he examined the strange missions and their peculiar specifics that the rewards started to make sense.
"Alright, I gotta know, how is it that someone so breathtaking is standing before me? Like, how did I get so lucky to be in this moment, with you, right now?" Ricky genuinely asked, a small smile forming on Selene's lips as she began tracing her fingers along the desk.
"I think we both know the how and why, but the question really is, whether or not the interest is real or a facade." Selene chuckled, tilting her head and merely observing Ricky.
"Oh, baby, there ain't nothing more real than this connection right here, right now." Ricky spread his arms wide, then quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"But shouldn't we save that for later? I don't want you to think my sincerity is just a way to gain your favor, but a true admiration for the beautiful woman standing before me." Ricky suddenly pulled back, sensing no reaction to his bluntness as his words shifted, almost instinctively, as if adjusting to a rhythm he was all too familiar with.
"So whatever happens, let's put a pin in this and pick it up after dinner, no matter what goes down here. What do you think?" Ricky asked, raising and dropping his eyebrows playfully but Selene, however, simply stared at him, her expression unchanged, as if weighing his words carefully.
"I think it's a proposal, worthy of deeper consideration." Selene gave a response that hinted at its possibility but left enough room for rejection later.
"Then, let's get to the matter at hand, shall we?" Selene slowly raised the folder containing the High Table's dossier on Ricky, her eyes narrowing slightly as she prepared to delve into the details.
"Ricky Luciano, born as Ricky Freeman, was given up for adoption by a nun after he was conceived with the result of his mother dying during childbirth," Selene read aloud, her voice steady and deliberate and yet, the words didn't seem to faze Ricky in the slightest.
"Wait, is my birth mother the nun, or the person who gave me up for adoption, I'm confused?" Ricky asked, hearing the wording of the question but when he thought about it, he didn't really know if his mother was a nun or the person who gave him to the orphanage was the nun.
"From then on, he resided in the Roosevelt orphanage until the age of nine, when he saved Lucky Luciano from near-fatal injuries," Selene continued, her tone deliberate, allowing the weight of the words to hang in the air as Ricky was still confused until the mention of Lucky's rescue, which caught his attention, pulling him back into focus.
"It was then that he was dragged into a scuffle with the Five Points gang, which led to the awakening of his mutant powers. After that, he was adopted by Lucky Luciano and took his name, becoming Ricky Luciano," Selene read, her voice smooth and controlled as Ricky's lips curled into a faint smirk as the story of his life, or at least part of it, unfolded in front of him.
"Years passed, and so did Ricky Luciano's childish and unnerved potential, leading him to incite what was later referred to as 'the Irish Massacre of 1932'," Selene continued, her tone steady as she revealed another dark part of Ricky's life.
"Oh, I remember that-"
"He then took over the operations of Harlem, parts of Manhattan, and received the clubs to operate." Selene skipped over Ricky's interjection, flipping the page of the extensive report and continuing.
"However, it was Jake Lankey who did all the work, which would later lead to his drug problem in the near future," Selene continued, her voice steady, but Ricky's smile slowly faded as the report was becoming too detailed, and it hit closer to home than he'd expected.
"Then, while searching for the sun pendant, Xarus enlisted the Jewish mob, killing two of Ricky Luciano's friends, Eddy and Rocco." Selene seemingly pressed further, her tone the same as someone reading off a presentation they didn't even do.
"It was there that Ricky was exposed to the supernatural world, eventually gaining his revenge, only to have his powers exposed later as a mutant by an attorney named Dewey." Selene paused, letting the words sink in before continuing.
"This led to his subsequent banishment, where he would go on to become the Black Knight and serve until he met Dracula." Selene almost chuckled, holding it in as she read the next passage.
"Under Abraham Van Helsing's tutelage, Ricky grew, but not enough, as Dracula toyed with him like he had with the Van Helsing family for centuries." Selene's voice carried an almost mocking edge as she read, seemingly talking down to him.
"It was then, after three years, that Ricky Luciano finally succeeded in killing Dracula. He returned to New York, only to ignite a civil fight with the government—and he won." Selene paused, letting the gravity of Ricky's rise settle in the air before continuing once more, her voice smooth but cutting.
"Now, after wiping out the other heads of the mob families, the Luciano family stands as a force to be reckoned with. This is the promise Lucky ensured eight years ago after killing his own boss." Selene finished, finally remembering who Lucky was since she actually remembered that meeting.
"Impressive life story, if I do say so myself," Selene remarked, setting the paper down with a deliberate motion.
"Don't worry, I still have a couple of surprises left," Ricky chuckled, his gaze hinting downwards at his pants but Selene ignored it.
"I will not lie, your actions whether it be through your Black Knight persona up until your announcement as Ricky Luciano has proned my interest and attention." Selene revealed, having outwardly expressed her interest in him.
"But I must say, I've been keeping my eye on you a little more closely ever since you crossed paths with that little pest, Eliphas," Selene said, her voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of something darker as her eyes flashed for just a moment, revealing an emotion that was fleeting and impossible to fully decipher.
"Ha~" Ricky chuckled, wiping his mouth as his eyes glimmered with a faint green aura, a hateful gleam creeping into his expression.
"Speaking of little rats, since you brought him up," Ricky leaned in slightly, his voice low and dark.
"Happen to know where the guy is? Cause I got a debt I need to repay to him." Ricky wondered out loud, not even hiding that he was going to twist that vampire's head clean off.
Selene, unfazed, rested her hand gently on his head, a silent motion that conveyed both authority and affection as she kept her gaze steady on him, her lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"I do."
"Care to share."
"Where would be the fun in that?"
The exchange was brief, but it conveyed everything and despite the dismissive tone Selene used when speaking of Eliphas, there was an undeniable amusement in her eyes.
She didn't seem to view him as much more than a nuisance, but there was something in the way she lingered on the thought that suggested she took a certain pleasure in watching Eliphas squirm.
"Alright, well, if you see him can you pass a message for me?" Ricky asked, forcing a smile at the man who had indirectly led to Abraham and Henry's deaths.
"Tell him 'sh*t's about to get real and he still has a debt/interest to pay' and make sure to punch him in the face when you or whoever delivers it." Ricky said, highlighting very specific outlines for the message to be delivered.
"Alright," Selene chuckled, her eyes glinting with amusement as she leaned back, her posture relaxed but her attention never wavering from Ricky.
"Now Ricky, do you know why no organization has been certified within New York?" Selene asked, her tone shifting slightly as she studied him while Ricky shrugged casually, his lips curling into a smirk.
"Not even a little bit."
"You see, ever since the tea was thrown into that harbor all those years ago, the government has been mercilessly crushing any attempts at an organization gaining any threshold in this city," Selene explained, recounting the formation of the Americas and their futiles attempt to stop this city from being zoned by the High table.
"It's actually quite fascinating on that topic, as this group in particular, notably called the Freemasons, have been hell-bent on making sure that none of these organizations flourish." Selen purposely revealed, calmly tracing her fingernail along the groves of the table beneath her.
"That is, however, until the mob showed up, and they just suddenly disappeared." Selene traced her hand along the desk, her gaze lingering on the smooth surface.
"Isn't that peculiar?" Selene wondered, turning her gaze to Ricky as if this topic had nothing to do with him.
"Yeah, I guess it's pretty strange." Ricky, who had this sort of mambo jumbo imparted onto his life that always revealed a deep secret about something he always thought he knew, wasn't bothered by these reveals but was just really bored of them by now.
"Hm, indeed it is." Selen voiced out, looking at Ricky with piercing eyes before continuing.
"And now, not only has an organization solidified itself here, but an organization led by a mutant." Selene's voice was cool, as if weighing the implications of those words.
"I won't lie, I'm only here because of that fact," Selene continued, her voice soft but intense.
"It fascinates me how far you've come, especially after winning that civil case. Quite the feat, really." Selene leaned in slightly, her smile both intrigued and amused.
"But I've also heard that you've retained the support of Elias," Selene remarked, revealing her knowledge but Ricky, however, wasn't surprised even if she knew about the freckle on his left ass cheek too.
"Is that a deal breaker?" Ricky asked, wondering if he was going to get cock blocked by a pair of floating red eyes.
"It depends on your answer to my question." Selene purposely halted her words, leaving it up in that air as if she enjoyed the prospect of leading someone on.
"Ricky Luciano, are you attending the Hellfire Ball at the end of the year?" Selene's smile slowly faded, her eyes narrowing slightly as if the answer would determine something crucial.
A dark energy started to pulse around her as her eyes slowly turned a dark shade of black, all the while Ricky sort of stood there a little confused since there was no danger in the least and this sort of display felt meaningless after he knew that.
"Yes?"
"Fantastic." Selene suddenly smiled, the dark energy around her dissipating as she grabbed a stamp.
"Under the position of Autem Imperator, I, Selene Gallio, approve of Ricky Luciano's application for the Luciano Family to be certified under the High Table as a functioning criminal organization," Selene announced, officially recognizing Ricky under the condition that he attend the Hellfire Ball.
thump
Selene slammed the stamp onto the folder, sealing the Luciano family's entrance into the High Table's ranks and solidifying their position as the sole inheritor of New York, zoning it out to their control.
"Congratulations," Selene said, her voice smooth as she leaned back in her chair.
"And I can assume that you've taken the mantle as head of your family with your bank's recent success, which is why Lucky isn't here, correct?" Selene asked, already guessing the shift in power and Ricky nodded, confirming her assumption.
"Yeah, my pops wants to focus on the bank while I take the reins of the family," Ricky revealed, watching Selene carefully as she sat there for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in his words.
"Your pops sure is a perceptive fellow," Selene mused aloud, her fingers tapping lightly against the desk as she leaned back, her gaze steady on Ricky.
She pondered the implications of his rise, whether it was a strategic move fueled by his own abilities or simply a coincidence, especially with her being a mutant as well.
"Don't I know it," Ricky chuckled, a smirk spreading across his face as he imagined Lucky's smug reaction to such a comment.
"The procedures for how to operate and a guidebook will be sent to your operations threshold, and Ricky." Selene paused, her smile widening as she turned to face him.
"May I be the first to welcome you under the High Table," Selene said, her voice smooth and filled with an unspoken challenge, before she swayed her gorgeous hips as she turned away.
"I'll see you at the Hellfire Ball." Selene's words implied only one thing as Ricky immediately tried to salvage the moment.
"What about our dinner-"
"Raincheck," Selene remarked, casting a final glance over her shoulder as she walked away, leaving Ricky high and dry.
"Of course it wouldn't be that easy."
10 minutes later,
"You son of a b*tch, really?" Ricky muttered as he walked over, his eyes narrowing on Lucky, who was already leisurely rubbing his stomach, the very same one that held almost all of his bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich.
"The sangria, by the way, was just the perfect touch," Lucky commented, fueling the fire as Ricky laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.
Sigh
"Whatever let me have a bite-" Ricky reached over to the plate only for Lucky to pull it away.
"Hell no, get your own." Lucky shamelessly said, scoffing at his nerve as Ricky had his mouth a little agape before scrunching his brows.
"That is my own!"
Meanwhile at the Penthouse Room,
Selene was sipping on a very dark wine, her eyes fixed on a mirror that didn't reflect her own captivating figure but instead captured the exchange between Lucky and Ricky.
Her gaze remained steady, intrigued by their dynamic, as she savored each sip as the glass in her hand caught the light, a stark contrast to the shadowed room around her.
"Mistress, the preparations for your departure have-"
"Constance, I've decided to prolong my stay." Selene swirled the wine, her eyes never leaving Ricky as he fumbled with his hand, continuously swatted away by Lucky's playful yet firm gestures.
The slight tension in the air only seemed to draw her deeper into the scene, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile as she observed the interaction unfold.
"But miss—" Constance tried to speak, but his words were caught in his throat, the air feeling as though it had been sucked from the room as a wave of pressure slammed into his chest, forcing him to his knees, gasping for breath.
Scratching at his throat, Constance's face began to turn purple, his breaths ragged and shallow.
Selene's smile curved ever so slightly, the amusement in her eyes barely noticeable, as Ricky's attention was momentarily distracted by a waitress walking by.
"Do you know what I love about a stray dog?" Selene asked casually, her voice smooth as she ignored Constance's struggle to breathe, his gasps growing weaker.
"It's that they're so much fun to tame, to control." Selene's voice was dripping with satisfaction as she took another sip of her wine, savoring it as if it were the final taste of a victory.
She cleared the last drop, holding out her glass with a gesture that was both commanding and graceful.
"Inform the club that I will have a plus one for the ball," Selene instructed coolly, her eyes never leaving the mirror as she released her grip on Constance.
GASP
Constance gasped for air, his chest heaving as he stumbled back to his feet as he steadied himself, then walked to the bar, hands trembling slightly as he poured her another glass, though the near-death experience was still fresh in his mind.
"Yes, Mistress."
20 minutes later,
"Are you sure this is where you want to have your office?" Lucky asked, tilting his head slightly as Ricky crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the peculiar space in front of him.
"It's perfect, the nostalgia, the smell, and the pizza-oh god, the pizza!" Garfield spoke before Ricky could even muster a word, his chubby cheeks due from Ezmerilda overfeeding, jiggling as he waddled excitedly toward Italiano's.
HUFF
HUFF
HUFF
"P-Pizza~" Garfield gasped, taking a moment to catch his breath before sitting down after only ten steps as Chester, looking exasperated, shook his head.
"No self-control whatsoever," Chester sighed lightly, shaking his head as he watched Garfield struggle toward the establishment.
"At least he's resilient," Alexander pointed out with a faint smile, watching Garfield crawl toward Italiano's, determined despite the odds.
"Woah!" Asterion yelled out, pointing at the towering highrise in the distance, his eyes wide with awe as he took in the sight of it for the first time.
Asterion's body was practically weighed down by the collection of trinkets and souvenirs, becoming a walking testament to the tourist experience.
Covered in everything from keychains to t-shirts, he looked like someone who had taken New York's commercial offerings to heart.
Being in the city, with Ricky's privileges, felt like a dream come true, like a child let loose in a candy store, unable to decide where to start.
The city was Asterion's playground as he had the freedom to go anywhere, and go everywhere he did.
He visited the Statue of Liberty, his eyes wide with awe at the monumental symbol of freedom, then laughed with genuine joy from the top of the Empire State Building, marveling at the vastness of the city below.
For Asterion, it was the first time in a long while that he felt truly alive.
Seeing what humanity had built, the heights of creativity and ambition that New York represented, filled him with a sense of purpose he hadn't felt before.
He had struggled for centuries to find his passion, unsure of his place or whether his purpose was right.
But as he saw each new sight, each landmark, and each part of the city come to life, Asterion found himself more and more excited to keep exploring, to see what would come next.
Each new experience sparked a thrill in him, something fresh and different, something worth looking forward to.
"Well, alright," Lucky shrugged, deciding not to argue with Ricky, especially since he had practically lived out of Italiano's for the longest time.
Walking into the establishment, Ricky scooped up the huffing Garfield and immediately inhaled the mouthwatering scent of a freshly baked pizza pie.
"SLICK!" Antonio, in his older form, cheered out as he walked from around the counter and pulled Ricky into a warm hug.
"Antonio, it's been too long!" Ricky laughed, hugging the old, chubby man who gleefully chuckled in return.
"What do you need, anything, it's on me!" Antonio patted Ricky's shoulder, smiling ear to ear at the young man before stepping back, his arms open as if offering the whole place to him.
"Antonio, I'm gonna be honest with you cause you're someone I'd never lie to." Ricky put his hand on his heart, showing a sincere expression as Antonio nodded his head.
"If I don't get one of your pizzas, I think I might die," Ricky laughed, his tone light and playful as Antonio quickly hurried to the kitchen, a knowing grin spreading across his face.
"Then I'll cook up New York's best just for you!"
Walking towards a booth, Ricky sat down next to Lucky, who still felt a bit uneasy beneath Asterion's towering presence, though he was gradually growing more accustomed to it.
The pizza was soon set down before them, and without hesitation, they began grabbing slice after slice.
No one was an exception; for once, they all set aside their worries, the future problems, and just focused on the simple pleasure of enjoying a slice together.
Laughter echoed in the booth as they all reveled in the moment, each enjoying the camaraderie and the makeshift feast.
By the time they were done, they leaned back in their seats, bellies stuffed and faces content, with over ten empty trays stacked high around them.
Burp
"I-I can't~" Alexander muttered, sprawled out on the table, his face flushed from the indulgence as beside him, Chester was laying on his back as well, rubbing his belly in exaggerated satisfaction.
"Seriously, Slick, where did you get these guys?" Lucky muttered, unbuckling his belt as he glanced over at Asterion and Garfield, who were still scarfing down food, one slice after another, without a care in the world.
"That fat cat literally popped out of reality, and this guy was in a cave," Ricky said with a shrug, offering a quick explanation and Lucky just sighed, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.
"Garfield, your stomach is mighty, but alas, this is a fight that cannot be won," Asterion said, patting his own stomach, revealing that he had four.
"I-I-" Garfield, who still had pizza sauce on his mouth, struggled to continue, his words lost in between bites.
Still holding the slice, Garfield stared at it, the cheesy goodness reflecting in his eyes as he looked up, determination burning in his gaze.
"I will not, I cannot give up!" Garfield roared, stuffing his face with the pizza and chewing it thoroughly, ignoring the exhaustion from his earlier indulgence.
"I am Garfield, the cosmic cat, and I will not fall in the face of food, never!" Garfield cheered, his voice full of conviction and Alexander, hearing the bold declaration, raised his paw in moral support.
"HAZZAH!" Alexander roared, his spirit as unyielding as Garfield's, cheering him on as Garfield dove back into the pizza with renewed determination.
However, soon Garfield's invigorated motion slowed as he stuffed his mouth, slice after slice, tray after tray, and briefly looked up at Asterion to see his pace.
It was then that he saw it, Asterion's raised gaze, looking down at him from his summit of victory.
The sheer size of Asterion's feast made Garfield's efforts seem trivial; Asterion had quadrupled everything Garfield had eaten, and his composure remained unshaken as he looked at the fat cat, seemingly amused.
"Your courage and spirit are commendable, but you're three hundred years from being a worthy opponent." Asterion set down another tray of pizza, watching Garfield slowly fall to his knees in defeat before the mighty Asterion.
The cosmic cat, the very same that was once brimming with confidence, now stared up at the towering figure, his once indomitable spirit faltering as he bowed to the greater force of appetite.
"I-I lost?" Garfield's chubby cheeks puffed out as he huffed, his gaze shaking in disbelief at the stark disparity between them.
"B-But I am supposed to eat the most-"
"Not anymore." Asterion's voice was calm, almost serene, as he set down another tray, then another, stacking them high in front of Garfield, whose stomach was already stretched to its limit.
Garfield's eyes widened in disbelief, unable to comprehend how one could continue to eat so much as even he was at a loss before this mighty minotaur.
It was then that it all hit Garfield, his stomach, already full to the brim, finally succumbed to the pressure.
He fell to the side, his face contorted in a mix of exhaustion and disbelief as the overwhelming stuffed sensation eclipsed him.
Asterion stood towering over all of him, the epitome of hunger and triumph, having claimed the title of the hungriest with ease
"Uh, ok?" Ricky, also full by the side, simply let this all happen while looking at the almost comatose cat.
"Do you guys think I should put Garfield on some sort of diet-"
"Yes." Literally all of them said in union as Ricky nodded, sighing lightly.
"Alright, Slick, are you finally ready to step up?" Lucky asked with a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement as he gestured towards the side, where Antonio was clearing the metal plates from the table.
It was then that some men began stacking paper in front of Ricky, towering high toward the ceiling before Ricky's eyes narrowed as he looked at his new opponent, his next nemesis, paperwork.
"You said you wanted to be like me, better than me. But to do that, you've gotta start from the bottom," Lucky said, tapping the table with a deliberate rhythm as he soon stood up, smoothly wrapping his scarf around his neck, the fabric settling with ease.
"You delegated too much from the start and still don't really understand how to manage not just the family, but even a simple club," Lucky said, his tone sharp but not unkind.
"Now, you've got to play the game. You ready?" Lucky gestured to the mountain of papers in front of Ricky, showing that this wasn't just about handling family affairs, but also managing the club's operations.
Lucky had thrived as the head of the family because he understood every position within the organization and made it run smoothly.
He had experienced the struggles and demands of each role firsthand, which allowed him to operate with precision and efficiency.
Ricky, on the other hand, had been a runner, even an enforcer at times, but he had never fully embraced the true responsibility of a Capo, paperwork.
The numbers, the files, the contracts, the book keeping, they were the backbone of the operation, and it was a side of the business Ricky had yet to master.
The job of a Capo wasn't just about leading; it was about managing.
They were responsible for overseeing the paper trail and the intricate web of business under the family's control.
Ricky had been supposed to learn the ropes through managing the clubs, but he had continuously passed that responsibility off to Jake.
Lucky knew he had made a mistake by letting it happen in the first place, and now, he was determined to make sure it never happened again.
Ricky's eyes narrowed as he stared at the towering stack of paper in front of him, his resolve hardening.
Some people believed that once you climbed one mountain, you'd reached the peak of another, but that was a misconception.
Right now, standing at the summit of the mountain he'd climbed over the past three years, Ricky saw only a new, much higher peak ahead.
But to reach that next peak, he first had to descend, and it wasn't the climb up that broke most people, it was the journey down towards the next.
A lot of people can climb a mountain, but it's the way down that breaks them, because that's the moment when you're truly alone.
Because that will be the moment that Ricky is truly alone and even now, even when he hadn't even started descending, he will be faced with the questions.
One that required not just physical strength, but mental fortitude, one that demanded not only his tireless effort but his unwavering resolve.
This was something he needed to climb, to do in order to become the man Lucky envisioned for him, the man that he wanted to be, and the man that was needed to be the roots of the family, to be a leader.
Ricky took a second, really taking in the surroundings of this summit while gazing around at everything he had done.
Ricky had done it, he had climbed the mountain and finally gave himself that second of recognition that everyone else had already given him.
But it was then that he took a step forward, towards the descent because Ricky was no longer afraid of the climb, of the challenges, and was alright starting from the bottom.
Ricky was ready, Ricky was determined, and Ricky was hungry.
"Yeah pops, I'm ready."
2 weeks later,
"I'm not ready~"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5 advanced chaps on my paterion https://www.patreon.com/LaughingFiend
BAM
Ricky slammed his head onto the counter, the cool surface offering a brief moment of relief before his gaze returned to the mountain of papers towering before him.
It had grown taller than it was two weeks ago, and the sight alone made his head ache.
In these two weeks, Ricky had been plunged into a realm he was woefully unprepared for, a world dominated by pen and paper, contracts and ledgers, signatures and seals.
For someone accustomed to dealing with problems through force, intimidation, and recklessness, the painstaking bureaucracy of running a family was a unique and grueling torment that he had never known.
Managing the affairs of a family as its head required Ricky to understand and master an overwhelming array of responsibilities, each one more tedious and demanding than the last.
For Financial management, Ricky was finally learning that money didn't just appear when needed, it had to be managed.
Income streams from legitimate businesses and illicit operations required meticulous bookkeeping.
Ricky had to approve budgets, oversee payroll for everyone from the nightclub bartenders to the enforcers, and allocate funds for bribes, maintenance, and expansions.
Then there was the matter of funneling and cleaning dirty money, a process that demanded far more than just increasing the amount of money coming in for revenue.
Cleaning money wasn't something that could be written off, it required a sharp understanding of the current budget before making alterations that could withstand scrutiny.
Ricky needed to know exactly how much money was coming in, both from legitimate operations and the underworld dealings, before he could even begin the process of laundering it.
Every dollar had to be accounted for in a way that made sense on paper as that meant threading it through legitimate businesses; nightclubs, restaurants, or real estate ventures; where it could be blended with clean income and emerge looking spotless.
For example, one of the most profitable ventures was the Cotton and Stork club.
These clubs had become a well-oiled machine for laundering money as profits from various illegal activities were funneled through its books, disguised as legitimate earnings from affluent patrons who frequented the venue.
But the thing was that Ricky also had to study these ledgers closely, making sure that the adjustments wouldn't raise red flags with accountants or, worse, the government.
The sudden influx of cash in a small, struggling nightclub could arouse suspicion, just as an unexplained expense could hint at impropriety, and he didn't want to give the FBI any more excuses to come looking for more bribe money since they were getting paid enough as is.
Being certified under the high table meant that the family had to play by its rules but also allowed for them to reap all the benefits.
This meant they could carry out operations without much intervention, as the High Table maintained a firm grip on the government, ensuring their activities were overlooked or subtly ignored.
However, if they slipped up and were outrightly caught, they had to face consequences like any other corporation, paying hefty fines and penalties to maintain the facade of legitimacy.
But this stack of documents didn't just end at numbers, no, it couldn't; there were deeds, contracts, and legal agreements to review.
Ricky had to ensure the family businesses were registered properly even the fronts, avoid tax complications, and keep a web of politicians and lawyers happy.
Ricky was genuinely flabbergasted as he sifted through yet another stack of records, his eyes scanning the names and amounts scrawled neatly in ink.
It wasn't just the sheer number of people on the Luciano payroll, it was the audacity of these smug politicians who preached about the betterment of the people where sending him letters asking if their bribe money would change with the shift in power.
Almost every single politician, cop, and important government figure in their sphere of influence had a price tag attached to their name.
Judges, senators, city council members, police captains, figures who were supposed to uphold the law or serve the public, were being paid off to turn a blind eye or pull strings when needed.
Some of the bribes were modest, barely more than pocket money to grease the wheels while others were staggering sums that could fund a small business in themselves.
But the pattern was clear: everyone had their price, and the Luciano family unfortunately had paid it.
With the management of money were the assets but Ricky quickly learned that management wasn't all about money, it was about people.
People weren't just assets; they were liabilities if handled poorly and so Ricky needed to review reports on each member's performance, settle disputes, and decide promotions or punishments.
Each decision affected morale and loyalty, and Ricky hated how a wrong word could cost him a good man or worse, form a rat.
The problem was that you could never please everyone, because someone was affected regardless of how careful you were.
For example, Ricky had assigned one of Lucky's most trusted Capo's Big Tony, to oversee the arrival of the coven settling into Staten island.
Big Tony's role was vital in Manhattan's smuggling operation, and when he had to step back, his older brother, Little Tony, had to step up, quickly finding himself suddenly swamped leading to a backlog of work.
These types of decisions constantly plagued Ricky, who struggled to find common ground in managing the balance of power and operations.
The situation with Little Tony became so pressing that Frank had to step in to handle some of the workload, ensuring Manhattan's operations continued to function smoothly.
However Ricky couldn't even focus on his own failures with the crisis piling up before him.
The stack of papers seemed to grow overnight when a crisis hit and complaints about supply shortages, disputes over territory, and even personal grievances from family members often landed on Ricky's desk.
Each one required careful handling; too lenient, and he'd be seen as weak; too harsh, and he risked losing respect.
BAM
BAM
BAM
The frustration was taking its toll, as Ricky now found himself repeatedly slamming his forehead against the table. Jake, watching the scene unfold, chuckled softly before walking up to him.
"Hey Slick, need a hand?" Jake asked, having barely been given anything to do since getting back and Ricky looked up, a weary expression on his face, but said nothing.
"No, I'm fine it's just that with all this work-"
Ricky's words were interrupted by Frank who opened the door with a piece of paper in his hands to add to the growing stack.
"Aye, Slick, I know you're busy, but there's a problem in Harlem that needs a hand-" Frank said as he walked into Italiano's while staring down at a piece of paper.
Ricky, seeing a chance to step away from the mountain of paperwork, jumped to his feet, grabbing his coat in one swift motion, eager to escape the confines of the office while still being productive.
"I got it, I'll handle it!" Ricky suddenly yelled, interrupting Frank and literally just needing to leave this place.
After being cooped up in the restaurant for the last two weeks, he desperately needed a breath of fresh air and this was the perfect opportunity to get out and stretch his legs while still addressing the family's issues.
"Wait Slick, about helping-" Jake tried to continue where he left off, only to hear a heavy sigh come from Ricky.
Sigh
Ricky slowly stopped, turning around to look at him as he patted Jake's shoulder, giving him a firm, steady gaze.
"Jake, listen, man, you've been through a lot," Ricky began, acknowledging Jake instead of brushing him off.
"But baby steps. You're just starting to get back on your feet, and I don't want you rushing back into it like before, alright?" Ricky looked at Jake, who sighed but smiled, nodding as he patted his cheek.
"I'll be back either later today or tomorrow if you need anything." Ricky was about to walk away when he noticed Barko patiently sitting at the side.
The deal Ricky and Barko had made was nearing fruition since while Ricky had been out during the trial, this black Labrador had expertly held down the clubs.
His management was so efficient that it was easy for Ricky to step in and easily continue operations.
However, there were still a few details that needed to be squared away, which is why Barko patiently waited for Ricky to finish before they could discuss the final points.
"Oh sh*t Barko, your lab-"
"It's alright, I can wait, don't worry," Barko smiled, his calm demeanor reflecting his understanding of how hectic Ricky's life had been as he gave a nod of reassurance, not pushing him but showing his patience.
Jake stood there in that moment, the light casting a soft glow on Ricky as he stepped forward, leaving Jake feeling as though he were standing in the shadows, frozen in place.
Ricky seemed so distant, and it was only when Jake cleared his head that he truly understood the extent of that distance.
For so long, Jake had fought to close the gap, pouring everything into it, but now, it felt wider than ever.
"Ha, I ain't nothing but average," Jake whispered, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips as he hung his head in resignation.
Surrounded by so many gifted individuals, Jake couldn't help but feel like the average Joe.
He wasn't bad at anything, but at the same time, he wasn't exceptional either and it was such an uncomfortable place to be, caught in the middle of the extraordinary, unsure of where he fit in this world where everyone else seemed to have something remarkable to offer.
At his bare bones, he's a solid and reliable person, but he just doesn't stand out.
Though, from the side, Barko suddenly let out a laugh, shaking his head, but there was no judgment in it, just this quiet understanding.
"Well, Mr. Average, do you really have time to be hanging your head?" Barko words suddenly jarred Jake's head upwards, looking at Barko who was sitting in front of him.
"Barko?" Jake called out, his words catching in his throat as the next sentence failed to come, unable to continue after realizing someone heard his deepest insecurity.
However, Barko, understanding without needing an explanation, simply let out a bitter chuckle, his gaze softening with the weight of unspoken thoughts.
"I know it may sound strange, but I understand how you're feeling right now, what you're feeling right now," Barko said softly, looking up at Jake as he saw him standing in the same place he had been two years ago, the same place he found himself before he had his talk with Asterion.
"Three years ago, when I left on that boat with Ricky, I didn't go because I wanted to follow him," Barko said, his voice low as his eyes were laced with a heavy amount of grief.
"I went because I needed to figure out who I was." Barko whispered, looking down at his paw, the place where his hand used to be.
"Becoming this thing, becoming a mutant, very much skewed my identity because for the longest time I was known as Professor Barko but now, I am just Barko." Barko put down his paw, resuming his gaze at Jake, who was quiet.
"Back then, my studies were groundbreaking. Well, they were supposed to be groundbreaking until I found myself in the form of a dog." Barko let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, speaking about what could have never been.
"Stripped of everything I ever had and then cast as nothing more than a carnival act, it really hurt." Barko was very thoughtful about his own experiences telling Jake about his life as the latter felt a little guilty for always thinking of him as insignificant to the grand scheme of things.
"I think the hardest part about becoming who I am now was that it felt like no one ever really saw me, the real me." Barko placed his paw on his chest, before casting his gaze downward.
"Even when I started following Ricky, the light just never seemed to shine on me, but on him." Barko chuckled at those words, remembering all the times that Ricky, unknowingly, captivated even his gaze.
"I won't be afraid to admit that even now, I'm jealous of how the world seems to look at Ricky and forgets about me until I'm right next to him." Barko voiced his own insecurity, feeling only seen whenever he was right next to Ricky or in his sphere of influence.
"It hurt for a long time, because sometimes, even now, I still think of myself as this protégé that defies comprehension." Barko slowly gazed back up at Jake, who simply stood before someone he once regarded as a mere dog, left at a loss for words.
"But right now, I'm not the strongest in anything." Barko's voice softened, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he looked directly at Jake, sharing the vulnerability he often kept hidden.
"I'm not the strongest, I'm not the fastest, and I'm not even the smartest." Barko chuckled, but there was no bitterness in it which caught Jake off guard, leaving him momentarily lost for words.
"I don't even really think about those facts often, but there's one or two times a year when it really registers, and I'm left reeling with the reality of my surroundings." Barko explained, gesturing toward the shadows and the dimly lit restaurant they were in, his gaze lingering on the faint outlines of the world around them.
"And at that moment, I can't help but think that I am merely average." Barko voiced the truth that lingered in the depths of his being, a truth that, despite everything he had done, was hard to ignore.
Barko wasn't someone who would never be considered the strongest, he wasn't the most intellectually capable even with his keen intellect, and he certainly wasn't someone who stood out.
He faded into the background, forgotten and often overlooked, but the worst part of it all was that he was fully cognizant of this fact.
"As you start to get older, you begin to realize just how vast the world really is. With every towering sight I see before me, it's hard not to feel small, insignificant in the grand scheme of things." Barko's voice softened, his gaze distant as he let his words settle in the air as he could see the same look in Jake's eyes, the same frustration and uncertainty he once carried.
The same struggle to find his place in a world that often feels too big to conquer.
"Most of the time, you don't think about your place in the world," Barko said, his voice steady but filled with the weight of experience.
"But those occasional moments, those one or two times, when you realize that whatever you're doing, there are countless others who have been doing it and practicing it for years and it makes you feel small." Barko paused, his eyes distant as he remembered his own feelings before closing his eyes.
"That's how I felt when I first dipped my paw into the world of magic." Barko revealed, thinking that it would be exactly like the world of science when he first started.
The knowledge was exciting, along with the research, but the deeper he delved into Abraham's journals and spent time with the coven, the more he found himself shrinking in comparison.
I mean, he was given access to information that some people could only dream of, and yet, instead of feeling empowered, he couldn't shake the feeling of being even smaller than before.
Barko couldn't help but lament the starting point, the setbacks, and all the trials he had been faced with, because that's how some people thought, seeing only the obstacles instead of the growth that came from overcoming them.
"But that's not a reason to give up," Barko's words fanned the dwindling flames within Jake's heart, causing his eyes to widen in realization.
"You don't have to be number one in order to feel worthwhile, to feel like you belong," Barko explained, his words sinking in, but Jake clenched his fist, wiping his eyes as a mixture of frustration and understanding crossed his face.
"But what do I do when I feel like I belong, when I'm given this place that I don't feel like I deserve, and everything, no matter how hard I try, seems to go wrong, even when I put all my effort into it?" Jake vented, clutching his chest as his exterior seemed to crumble, his vulnerability showing through.
"I wanted to prove myself, to show I deserve all things handed to me by my brother and Ricky but in every scenario, in every task I'm given, I just seem to always fail to live up to the standards set for me." Jake covered his eyes, feeling all but hopeless as Barko slowly nodded.
"When everything is going wrong, when everything you've ever done has crumbled, that is when that painful feeling of mediocrity settles in." Barko explained, sighing at that very feeling that has plagued him for so long.
"Nevermind being number one or trying to prove ourselves, it feels as if we are not moving at all, that we are stuck in place." Barko confessed, feeling even now to be in the same place even with all the strides he had put in.
"But every time you feel like nothing is going the way you want it to and it all feels hopeless, you have to understand one thing." Barko's words echoed in Jake's ears, his eyes tearing up as it all settled heavily on his heart.
"Do you really have time to be hanging your head, Mr. Average?" Barko repeated the same words from earlier as Jake slowly looked back at him, seeing Barko standing tall with his chest puffed out.
"Because you might never be the strongest, you might never be the smartest, and you might always be average." Barko revealed the painful truth only to chuckle at his next words.
"But in that saying, you will never be the weakest, you will never be the dumbest, and that's because you'll always be average," Barko said with a grin as his words didn't immediately make Jake feel any better, but he wasn't finished.
"But even when you're average right now, what's to say that tomorrow can't be different?" Barko asked, his voice steady and Jake slowly wiped away the tears, his gaze meeting a mere dog as the words began to sink in.
"People go their whole lives without trying, without putting in the effort, and they end up hanging their head and saying that they can never climb that mountain." Barko words seemingly revealed an enormous mountain that slowly started to take shape behind him as Jake looked up at it.
"It might not be easy for you, it might be filled with constant setbacks, and that mountain you're facing might be higher than anything anyone has ever faced before," Barko said, his words acknowledging the weight of the challenge ahead, as if to erase the illusion of ease that came with climbing such a mountain.
"But what's stopping you from that climb, from taking that next step?" Barko asked, despite everything he had just said, his voice steady as if to challenge the heaviness of his own words, the ones that spoke of struggle and grief, yet still invited the chance to push forward.
"And Ricky, the people you look up at, standing on that summit, they didn't just get there automatically," Barko continued, his words cutting through Jake's haze, drawing attention to the mountain Ricky had been struggling to climb, and the unseen effort it took to reach the top.
"Ricky had to climb that mountain too, he got there because he put in that grueling effort and didn't succeed but failed, time and time again," Barko's words showed the scratch marks, the blood dug into that mountain to form any sort of grip and pick himself up.
"Ricky suffered, he fell down, but above all, he always got back up," Barko showed his appreciation, not his jealousy, since it was easy just to say that Ricky got to where he was without trying.
"Even if the mountain felt suffocating, even if the fall was crippling, Ricky always got back up, he made the climb." Barko then turned towards the mountain, knowing he had yet to still climb himself.
"But there's a reason that everyone is trying to climb this mountain, there's a reason you're standing right before it," Barko said, turning back with a smile.
"It's because you want to."
The words made Jake slowly freeze, feeling the coldness of the shadows, but in that instant, he felt a glimmer of sunlight peer from the side of the mountain, bathing him in its warmth.
"That mountain might be tall but it's not going to get any easier if you hang your head." Barko chuckled, knowing full well that sitting around and doing nothing would never solve anything.
"And why would you need it to be easier?" Barko asked, emphasizing that the effort is what makes the trials and tribulations worthwhile.
"Sure, there's a high summit in front of you, but it's not like there's anything stopping you from taking that climb." Barko wasn't giving Jake advice, he was telling him that it was possible.
"And that self-loathing, those thoughts of mediocrity, they don't go away by beating yourself up and constantly measuring yourself to others." Barko laughed, showing that the constant comparisons will never go away and will always stay with you.
"No matter how rough things are and how painful things can be for you right now, the only thing to do is lift your head up." Barko smiled, wishing that there was someone for him when he was struggling three years ago because it wasn't until a year ago did he really understand.
Barko had long struggled with where he belonged, but it took him even longer to really accept it.
Because the reality was, some people would never climb that mountain, would never reach the summit, and would always look up.
But that didn't mean you couldn't try.
"So, once you've realized that things aren't going your way and that mountain seems just a little bit taller after you fall, the only thing to do is stand up once more and try again." Barko smiled warmly, seemingly telling his younger self and finally getting the closure he needed for all those years of suffering he put himself through.
"Because you can do it." Barko's words made Jake almost collapse as he really felt all the things that Barko said.
Sniff
Sometimes everything will feel meaningless, and most times your efforts will feel worthless, but that doesn't mean you have to accept it.
If life always gave you everything, then your story would never be any fun to tell since it's because of those failures that our stories become more worthwhile.
So when it all feels hopeless, when everything crumbles to the ground, and you're left reeling with everything you could never achieve, remember, when you look up at what's next, you can only ever utter one thing.
"I can do it," Jake said, wiping his eyes as his resolve made Barko smile, watching as he walked towards the door, towards the mountain
"I'm gonna find my way," Jake resolved, stepping forward with newfound determination, refusing to remain stagnant or dwell on the past.
"Aye, Barko, your pizza's ready!" Antonio called out, walking over and placing it on the counter. Barko slowly turned his head, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as he began walking toward it.
As he walked, his collar glimmered, and his form began to shift, fur rippling as he morphed into the towering figure of a werewolf.
With a smooth movement, he leapt onto the seat, settling down with a hum of satisfaction before grabbing the slice of pizza.
"See you at the top, Jake."
Meanwhile in Harlem,
In the new building that Madame had acquired after shutting down the Numbers game, she was meticulously managing the various matters that now demanded her attention.
The sleek, polished interiors reflected the change in her operations, the once chaotic hustle of her previous business now replaced with a more controlled, strategic approach.
Every detail was in its place, as Madame sat at her desk, her eyes scanning the papers before her, her mind focused on ensuring her new start ran smoothly.
BAM
"Madame St. Clair, I knew you'd wait for me!" Ricky burst through the door, arms wide, his grin as confident as ever.
The entrance was exactly like him and it caused her to immediately roll her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips despite herself.
"If it isn't White Boy Ricky," Madame St. Clair remarked, her voice dripping with a mix of amusement and familiarity as the nickname had been coined for him in Harlem, and as Ricky approached her, it was as if the title followed him in like a shadow.
"Or it is your favorite snack, white chocolate, delivered to you personally on a silver platter," Ricky laughed, gesturing to himself with a flourish as if presenting a grand gift.
Madame St. Clair rolled her eyes and tossed her pen onto the desk, clearly unimpressed, though the hint of a smile continued to play at the corners of her mouth.
"Oh my lord," Madame St. Clair shook her head, wanting to scoff, but instead a chuckle slipped out.
"But be careful with my wrapper, I just got this suit pressed-" Ricky gestured to his outfit, undoing the buttons, as Madame St. Clair pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I thought you would send a Capo-"
"Oh baby, you get the VIP treatment, you get the real deal~" Ricky danced in place, going all out, making Madame cringe as she held up her hand.
"Listen Ricky-"
"No, I get it, you couldn't wait another day for a date, so you called me in advance. I know." Ricky nodded his head, sitting on her desk before leaning down.
"How about this: Me and you, at a five-star restaurant, with a dress you'll get after I take you on a shopping spree and buy you whatever someone with such refined taste desires. Then we'll end the night overlooking the beautiful city from a top-of-the-line suite." Ricky gestured towards Madame, highlighting the entire plan, spreading out his hands as if imagining it right now as she looked at him for a moment before realizing something.
"Oh my god I forgot I owe you a date." Madame St. Clair remembered, covering her mouth after promising him before he left to be the Black Knight before looking up at Ricky with a dazed expression, actually caught off guard.
"I-you-"
"Shhhhhh, I already know you're madly in love with me, so let's skip the wordplay and go straight for that chocolate dessert." Ricky leaned down, only to have his lips suddenly clamped by Madame, trying to hold an angry expression, though she couldn't help but stifle a laugh even when she tried not to.
"Fine, I'll keep my promise." Madame St. Clair said, hanging her words purposely on its ends that made Ricky scrunch his brows.
"But?" Ricky asked, sensing there was something else as she smiled.
"I need you to find someone, more specifically Bumpy." Madame released his lips, and Ricky nodded, understanding the task at hand as if it was the easiest thing on earth.
"Is that all, alright."
WHISTLE SOUND
Ricky whistled out, pressing his fingers to his mouth before turning around and opening the door of her office.
"Bumpy, Bumpy, come here boy!" Ricky called out, slapping his thighs to beckon him over like some sort of dog, treating the situation like some sort of joke as he repeated the call for another two minutes before finally turning back with a slight shrug.
"Did you send him to get neutered or something-" Ricky began with a serious expression, only for Madame to throw a pen at him with a sharp flick of her wrist.
"I'm serious, Ricky, he's been missing for three weeks now!" Madame yelled, clearly embarrassed and ashamed of his actions, unlike him, who saw it as a regular Saturday.
"Alright, geez, I'll do it, but remember...…" Ricky didn't finish, instead raising his eyebrows up and down at the implications of his word before closing the door.
Sigh
"White boys~" Madame let out a loud sigh, leaning back in her seat before glancing back at the door.
"F*cking, white boys~"
10 minutes later,
"Man, this is kind of lonely," Ricky thought out loud, strolling down the empty streets, the only company being his own footsteps.
Everyone was busy, each wrapped up in their own affairs. Alexander was locked in a fierce card game with Chester, trying to finally beat him at his own game.
Asterion had somehow found himself at the Statue of Liberty again, visiting it for the eighth time this week.
And Garfield? Well, Ricky had no idea what he was up to, as usual.
What Garfiled was doing:
"Do you think I'm afraid? Do you think you scare me?" Garfield's voice was cold, cutting through the silence as he glared across the desk, the light above him casting a sharp shadow over his face.
He squinted his eyes, making it clear that he wasn't intimidated, despite the tension that hung in the air.
"TALK, TALK I SAY!" Garfield growled, grabbing the light above him and swinging it toward a slice of pizza on the table, his fingers trembling with frustration.
"Then I guess we'll have to do this the hard way." Garfield growled, grabbing his bib and tying it around his neck with exaggerated care, his eyes narrowing as he stared directly at the reader.
"You're going to want to look away, it's going to get ugly," Garfield seriously said, trying to save the reader from the scene that would've graced their eyes.
With a dramatic gesture, he moved the reader's attention back to Ricky, who had been walking aimlessly down the street, only to halt suddenly.
"Dammit, I forgot to ask where Bumpy lived so I can use my cheat item or skill or whatever," Ricky muttered to himself, already turning around to head back to Madame's office but then he suddenly stopped.
"No wait, I'll look weak and my cheesy power move from before will be watered down, I gotta improvise."
5 minutes later of Ricky improvising,
"Yeah, so I thought I'd start my improvising with one of your cocktails before I really get started," Ricky said, leaning casually against the bar as Buck let out a hearty laugh, wiping his hands on a towel before grabbing a bottle.
'It's good to see you too, Slick.' Buck signed with his hands, laughing at Ricky, who joined in with a chuckle of his own.
"Sorry about that, how have you been, buddy?" Ricky patted Buck, who puffed out his chest proudly before pulling out a locket he wore and showing it to him.
"Beautiful family you got there." Ricky complimented, seeing Buck with his wife and three children.
'I just bought a house with the loan from your bank so thank-"
"Buck don't thank me, your cocktails are more than worth it." Ricky stopped him, cheering the glass to Buck who laughed, nodding his head.
"But seriously, got any word on Bumpy? I literally have no idea where to start." Ricky asked, looking at Buck, who thought for a moment before nodding.
'Actually, there were some rumors he's been barhopping and-wait, a month ago I saw him talking to someone.' Buck signed suddenly only to stop his own fingers, making Ricky lean in.
"Who?" Ricky asked, confused, as Buck grinned from ear to ear.
BAM
Suddenly, the door to an apartment burst open, and Ricky walked in, spreading his arms wide.
"Booker, I'm back!" Ricky yelled out, only to freeze at the sight before him as instead of Booker, an old black woman sat in a rocking chair, knitting quietly.
"You're not Booker." Ricky pointed at the old lady, stating the obvious as she raised one of her eyebrows.
"No, I'm the one whose door you just kicked down." The old lady pointed her sewing needle at Ricky, her gaze sharp.
"Whoops, my bad." Ricky glanced at the door, now hanging off its hinges, before pulling out a hundred-dollar bill and offering it to her with a grin.
"Would this make us best of friends?" Ricky asked with a grin, holding out the hundred-dollar bill as the old black lady put on her glasses, studied the bill for a moment, then swiped it with a plain expression.
"No, but it does clean the slate," The old black woman replied, her voice steady as she turned toward the kitchen.
"Now come and eat, my chicken pot pie is about to be finished," the old woman gestured to Ricky, who was about to turn away but paused, rubbing his stomach at the mention of food then looking at the oven brimming with a delicious meal.
"F*ck it."
5 minutes later,
"Holy shit, this is so good I wanna have sex with it," Ricky exclaimed, digging into the chicken pot pie.
The old woman he learned was named Ethel, continued knitting at the table, unfazed by his comment.
Instead of showing a weird expression, she nodded as if she understood as if it was obvious.
"You know that's right," Ethel hummed, not shy about the praise as she knew her cooking was top-notch and didn't need to be humble about it.
"Like I just wanna get naked and slather my nuts with this sh*t, is that weird?" Ricky asked, utterly devouring the chicken pot pie all the while Ethel simply shook her head.
"Not when you eat my pot pie."
"Can I just drop by and eat your cooking, like, can I just come out of the blue?" Ricky asked, unable to ever look at chicken pot pies the same way after this encounter, only for Ethel to shrug.
"If you don't kick down my door." Ethel replied with a simple offer, continuing to knit as if this was actually normal.
"God dammit, Ethel, you're just the perfect woman," Ricky wiped his mouth, standing up as Ethel moved to him after finishing her knitting.
She draped a black scarf with green accents around his neck, its colors perfectly complementing his eyes and with a soft pat on his chest, she gave him a knowing look.
"I know," Ethel smiled, escorting Ricky to the door and waving him off but just as he stepped outside, two guys arrived to fix her door, ready to handle the mess he'd left behind.
"Mmmmmmh~" Ethel sipped on some iced tea, watching the young men work.
They weren't just fixing the door, they were replacing it entirely, making sure it was better than before as she leaned back in her chair, content, as the men worked diligently.
Meanwhile, at the club, Buck was wiping down the counter, his movements slow and methodical as he cleaned up after the evening crowd.
The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and he looked up, spotting Ricky walking in.
"Do you have his real address? I left too fast when you said his name," Ricky asked, his tone casual but focused as he leaned against the bar, making Buck chuckled, shaking his head as he scribbled down the address on a piece of paper.
"YOU'RE THE BEST, BUCK!" Ricky shouted as he ran out of the club, his voice echoing in the empty space and Buck simply nodded, already knowing this.
BAM
"Wha-What?!" Booker yelped, playing with his kids in the living room as he barely had time to react before his door was kicked open, and instinctively, he dove over his children, using his body as a shield.
"Booker, I'm back!" Ricky yelled out, spreading his arms wide, causing a mix of reactions to ripple through the household.
"Wha-"
"SLICK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?" Booker shouted, completely embarrassed and shocked, as Ricky snapped his fingers.
"That's the reaction I was looking for, good old Booker," Ricky said, waving his finger as Booker incredulously stared at him.
"Uncle Slick!" Booker's kids scrambled out of his arms and rushed toward Ricky, who bent down with his arms spread wide, ready to scoop them up.
Giggles erupted from his three kids as Ricky scooped them up into his arms, spinning them around with laughter filling the air.
"Slick, what are you doing here?" Tania asked, her surprise quickly turning into a smile as she patted Booker's shocked shoulders.
"It's obvious, he came here to see me!" Louis suddenly interrupted, bursting into laughter, only to be swiftly slapped by his wife, Bernice.
"Really, Louis? Just like you to ruin a good moment." Bernice shook her head, sitting at the table as Louis muttered something under his breath.
"What was that!"
"Nothing, woman, damn!" Louis grumbled, pulling the newspaper backup and burying his face in it, clearly trying to avoid further attention.
"Can't a guy just drop by and see his favorite trumpet player?" Ricky asked, setting the feral kids down, who immediately started clinging to his limbs, making it clear they weren't ready to let him go just yet.
"Not without wanting something first-ow!" Booker sighed, only to have his back slapped by Tania, who shot him a playful yet disapproving look.
"Booker, rude." Tania reprimanded, shaking her head before putting on a hostess smile towards Ricky.
"Slick, come over here and have some of this iced tea I made." Tania beckoned him over to the table, walking over to the kitchen to go get the pitcher.
"I mean, if you insist." Ricky smirked, walking over to the side as Booker reluctantly followed, both of them settling at the table.
"Uncle Slick, Uncle Slick, did you get us anything!"
"Yeah, anything!"
"We want things!"
The kids all burst out at the same time as Ricky held their small attention spans within the palm of his hands as he held it out towards them.
"Only this hundred dollar bill, what!" Ricky seemingly was surprised for the both of them, making it appear seemingly out of nowhere as their eyes sparkled.
"Go get it!" Ricky yelled, crumpling the paper and tossing it behind him as the kids immediately scrambled to fetch it as he turned back to Booker, who was currently scrunching his eyebrows.
"Are you playing fetch with my kids?" Booker asked with a weird expression, his eyes drifting to his kids fighting over the crumpled bill at the side.
"Would it be a bad thing if I did?" Ricky asked with a playful smile, watching as Booker furrowed his brow even further.
"I'm just f*cking with you Booker, anyways, I came here about Bumpy." Ricky laughed, changing the subject only for Booker to scrunch his brows to their limits.
"So you're not denying it-"
"That cat that smelled like he was his own on the road bar?" Louis, Booker's father, chimed in from the side as Ricky raised a brow.
"That doesn't sound like Bumpy, the words I'd describe him are annoying, dutiful, and Madame's lap dog." Ricky wondered if they were confusing the two people named Bumpy, but Booker shook his head, sighing lightly.
"That was the case until around a month ago, and then out of nowhere, he became a trainwreck," Booker explained, his wife rubbing his back since it was a touchy subject for him.
Then Booker went on to briefly explain how, after Ricky left, Bumpy had been trying to become more of a notable figure within Harlem, aiming to stand side by side with Madame.
He had worked hard, cultivating his own presence, and had even become a standalone figure within the community, no longer simply seen as Madame's associate but then, as if out of nowhere, he just started to spiral.
In fact, Booker came across him by chance when he was smoking outside, seeing Bumpy cradling a bottle in an alley.
The sight was unsettling as Bumpy, the once confident and determined figure, reduced to a shell of himself.
Booker didn't hesitate and tried to clean him up, offering him a place to sleep on their couch for the night.
But by the next morning, Bumpy was gone, leaving nothing behind but the lingering scent of whiskey and regret.
"I really don't know what happened to make him like that, I tried to help but-"
"Did he leave anything, like a jacket or something?" Ricky stood up, his fingers searching through the cushions, only to be met with literally nothing, not even jammed wrappers or lint.
'Damn, this is one clean couch.'
"Honey, the only place Bumpy's been seen is in bars." Tania shook her head with a dejected sigh, causing Ricky to frown as he scratched his head in thought.
"Well alright, it was good seeing you Booker-"
"Actually, my husband here got some wonderful news recently-"
"Tania, stop it," Booker said, stopping her as she sat back down as he walked over to Ricky and extended his hand, shaking it firmly.
"It was good seeing you, Slick. If you want to drop by, please do. Just, uh, not if it's to play fetch with my kids," Booker laughed, only for Ricky to raise his gaze, a playful smirk crossing his face.
"What is it, Booker? Spit it out, since you know if anyone's harassing you, I'll take care of them," Ricky said, thinking someone was giving Booker a hard time ashe held up his free hand, signaling for Ricky to calm down.
"It ain't nothing like that, it's just-" Booker began to speak, letting go of the handshake as he rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head, unable to finish the sentence.
"It's nothing." Booker tried to evade it but Ricky frowned, crossing his arms as if he wasn't going to move unless he told him.
Sigh
"I got offered a record deal down in Atlanta, but I'm not gonna take it," Booker revealed, and Ricky looked at him, briefly surprised.
"Wow, really?" Ricky asked, glancing at Tania, who stood up, shaking her head in disbelief.
"My baby is the jazziest trumpet player since Armstrong and I just know that everyone in the world wants to hear it but-"
"I'm not gonna abandon the Cotton Club, not after everything they've done for me, for us!" Booker yelled back at Tania, who shrunk in her seat, her eyes lowering as she took in the weight of his words.
Tania wanted to retort, but instead, she sat back, reflecting on how far they had come.
The cramped two-bedroom apartment that used to fit all seven of them had long been a thing of the past.
Now, they were living in a place that, in their wildest dreams, they never would have thought possible, thanks to Ricky's intervention.
Booker, ever the loyal man, had always been fiercely committed to those who helped him, and the record deal in Atlanta was no different.
He turned it down without a second thought, because he owed everything to Ricky and the Cotton Club and he felt it would insult him if he'd just leave after everything.
It was just that Ricky didn't see it that way.
"Why not?" Ricky suddenly asked, everyone looking up to see him unbothered in the least.
"Isn't your dream to be the best trumpet player or something like that? I think you should do it." Ricky nudged Booker, watching as the words left him momentarily speechless.
Booker stood there, caught off guard by the sincerity in Ricky's voice, his mind racing as he tried to process the unexpected support since if anything, he thought that maybe he would be disappointed at the very least.
"But Slick, I'm the club's headliner and-"
"Ah, don't worry about that man." RIcky waved off his worries, swatting awya the notion that Booker leaving would leave him high and dry.
"Listen, Booker, don't worry about me." Ricky grabbed Booker's shoulders, shaking him lightly with a laugh.
"I'm going to be fine, I can even take a bullet so you should do not only what you should, but what you want." Ricky showed a toothy smile as Booker was a little lost for words.
"And besides, it would be way more beneficial for me if I knew one of the most famous trumpet players rather than a club headliner if I ever decide to get into the music business later on." Ricky then reached into his coat pocket, ruffling around before pulling out his card.
"Listen, I think you should take it, you'd be an idiot not to." Ricky then stuffed a card into Booker's shirt pocket, leaving the stunned man speechless.
"That's my card. If you ever get into trouble or need something, show that card or get a hold of me, and I'll fix it." Ricky waved to his family before stepping onto the grass, heading out of the house as Booker rushed out behind him, calling out.
"But Slick, what about everything you've done for us, I can't just skip out-"
SIgh
Ricky sighed, turning back to Booker, who was still standing there, clearly in doubt and Ricky knew he needed to be real with him, so he stepped back toward him, his voice firm but gentle.
"Three years ago I was a f*cking wreck, Booker," Ricky said, his eyes locking onto his as he watched as Booker flinched, the weight of the words sinking in.
"I went around destroying my body with alcohol and drugs. I even dragged you into my shenanigans." Ricky's voice was raw, the weight of those words hanging between them.
"But not once, not a single time, when I was passed out, high off my mind, and just utterly wasted in need, did you ever turn me away." Ricky looked at Booker with a heartfelt smile, the emotion genuine and it forced him to simply stand there, a little surprised\.
"Whenever I needed a bed to crash in, a place to stay, you and your family opened your doors to me, and that meant a lot," Ricky said, his voice heavy with meaning since Booker had always been there whenever he needed him to be, even if those moments were a flash in the pan, and he would never forget that loyalty.
"I want you to succeed, Booker. You did a lot for me and in my eyes, you don't owe me jack." Ricky then walked toward his car, opened the door, and looked back.
"So even if you leave and become a superstar, then lose it all, no matter what, I'll find a place for you, 'cause it's me who owes you." Ricky then got into the car, rolled down the window, and looked at Booker.
"So stop being such a pussy and actually reach higher instead of settling for what you're given." Ricky then sped off, leaving Booker with a lot to digest as he watched him drive away.
Booker was never meant to be anything more than an off-hand bartender who played music in his spare time.
Someone fated to watch from the shadows as others succeeded while he grounded himself to provide for his family.
But through sheer luck, Booker became intertwined with Ricky, and with that, his life, his fate, was forever changed.
"Okay, Slick, I'll reach higher." Booker laughed, wiping his eyes as he turned back to his family, excitement bubbling up within him as they rushed around him.
Booker would no longer be fated for such an ending; instead, he would go on to be considered one of the godfathers of blues.
Ricky watched this scene in his rearview mirror, smiling as, although he wasn't a good person and usually ended up making others' lives worse, it felt good to have helped Booker.
Booker was one of those dependable people who would never compromise you, no matter the state you were in, and would always be there for you.
Ricky hadn't appreciated it before, but he did now.
Seeing a chance to help the guy who had always unknowingly helped him, he finally released him.
It was gradual, but Ricky was learning that sometimes, being someone dependable wasn't just about looking after others, it was about making sure that the people around you grew.
The outside world could kick rocks, but within his circle, Ricky genuinely wanted them to be happy.
Watching Booker laugh with his family, seeing the spark of hope in their eyes at what lay ahead, made Ricky smile.
He was starting to understand that true support wasn't about holding people back, but helping them rise.
"Good on you, Booker, good on you." Ricky muttered to himself, a rare sense of satisfaction creeping into his chest.
He drove off down the road, the familiar hum of his engine lulling him into a comfortable silence and after a while, he arrived at the nearest bar.
The usual scenario played out whenever he entered a bar within the grounds of Harlem.
"S-Slick!?" The residents would usually call out, afraid that they had done something wrong or accidentally forgot a protection payment.
"Relax, I'm looking for Bumpy and was wondering if anyone saw him?" Ricky would usually ask, getting a drink while he was proning for an answer before suddenly found himself on a bar crawl.
For the rest of the day, Ricky made his way through seven different bars, each one confirming they'd served Bumpy earlier that same day until he found himself in the back alley of the last bar.
"Wow, if this isn't ironic," Ricky chuckled, the sound of his shoes clicking against the pavement as he walked toward a disheveled man clutching a bottle of rum wrapped in a brown paper bag.
"Usually, it's you who comes on Madame's behalf to find me at the end of a bottle. Ain't this just a twist?" Ricky bent down, staring at the man who slowly raised his stubbled face to meet his gaze.
"Hey Bumpy, how have you been?" Ricky asked, smiling ear to ear, but the man simply took another sip of his rum, his eyes flicking up to meet Ricky's before looking back down.
"Go away, Slick, I just want to be alone-hey!" Bumpy tried to swat Ricky's hand away, but before he could, he was suddenly yanked to the side, stumbling and yelling as he was forcefully dragged out of the damp, dark alley.
"Let go-damn man, when did you get so strong!?" Bumpy yelled, trying to pry Ricky's grip off of him, but he was still being dragged further out of the alleyway.
Whistle
Ricky whistled a calm tune, unbothered as he continued dragging Bumpy down the sidewalk.
Passersby stopped, pointed, and whispered among themselves, but Ricky didn't pay them any mind as he just kept walking, dragging Bumpy along like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Arck!" Bumpy yelled as Ricky hurled him into a convenience store, sending him crashing into a display of chips.
The clerk behind the counter went pale, wide-eyed, unsure whether to call for help or pretend nothing had happened.
Bumpy groaned, trying to push himself up, but his limbs felt heavy from both the booze and the abrupt toss.
"I-I-I-"
"Give me a mirror," Ricky said flatly, his eyes never leaving Bumpy and the clerk, still trembling, scrambled to comply, rushing to hand him a small handheld mirror.
Ricky took the mirror and, with a swift motion, shoved it in Bumpy's face as the man recoiled at first, still a little dazed.
"Look." Ricky's words jarred Bumpy's sight forward, looking towards someone unrecognizable.
Instead of a prim and proper figure, his entire clothes were disheveled and slightly torn.
Instead of a nice face and trimmed beard, he was met with an untamed stubble and an unkempt mini afro.
The man Bumpy had once been, proud and confident, was nowhere to be seen and instead, a broken man appeared in the mirror, a hollow shell reflecting towards him while showing what he was now.
"Look at yourself Bumpy, this isn't you-"
"Save it, I get it." Bumpy hatefully pushed the mirror away, wobbling up with a slightly buzzed figure before looking at RIcky.
It was as if their fates had been switched since the last time they'd crossed paths, one had picked up all his bearings, the other had lost it all.
Ricky stood tall, his presence as commanding as ever, a stark contrast to the crumbling figure before him.
Bumpy, once the one who seemed to have it all together, now stood broken, his resolve shattered, unable to recognize the man he had once been.
"Hey, get out." Ricky glanced at the store clerk, who didn't hesitate for a second and without a word, the man abandoned his post and hurried out of the store he was supposed to be managing.
"Not you." Ricky grabbed Bumpy, stopping him from following as he pushed back to the stop he just was at, eliciting a deep frown.
"I don't need your help-"
"Well to bad Madame-"
"Just leave me alone!" Bumpy stumbled to the side, huffing, his body shaking slightly as he turned away.
"Please, just leave me alone." Bumpy's voice was broken, and Ricky couldn't help but raise an eyebrow since from what he knew, this entire scenario was all out of place.
Bumpy had always been at Madame St. Clair's beck and call, chasing after her with an obvious interest, but as Ricky stood there, something clicked in his mind as his eyes widened as the thought crossed him.
"Oh my god, she rejected you, didn't she?!" Ricky suddenly burst out laughing, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how instinctive the reaction was as he quickly tried to stifle it, but it was too late, Bumpy rushed at him, anger flashing in his eyes.
SLAP
Ricky suddenly backhanded Bumpy, raising an eyebrow as he watched the man stumble to the ground.
"Normally, I wouldn't care, since you probably couldn't hurt me. But come on, Bumpy, this is Italian leather." Ricky gestured to his suit, watching as Bumpy wiped his mouth, blood dripping from his nose.
"You can't wrinkle this and it costs a fortune, so no way in hell am I letting you touch me-"
SLAP
Bumpy lunged at Ricky only to be slapped into the ground once more, before the latter placed a foot on his back.
"What did I just say, Bumpy? You're not touching me while I'm wearing a suit custom-made by Rotolo." Ricky scoffed, adjusting his suit and glancing down at Bumpy, hitting his ankle.
Sigh
"This might take a while."
A while later,
Huff
Huff
Ricky, his foot now planted firmly on Bumpy's head, waited patiently for him to finish his tantrum and eventually, Bumpy collapsed his efforts, completely defeated.
Sniff
"I-I loved her, Slick." Bumpy horse voice let out, muttering to the side as Ricky finally released his hold on him, but Bumpy still laid on the ground trembling.
"But I was alright with what we had, with what I had but I-"
"You got greedy." Ricky sighed, knowing a fool in love when he saw one as the man hit his head into the ground.
"I just wanted to be seen by her, not as a foot soldier but as a man, a man that could stand side by side with her." Bumpy voice cracked, his face planted in the ground while both fists balled together, tightly.
"She was my world, and I wanted to be hers too, but I just wasn't enough," Bumpy admitted, his voice heavy with regret.
More than anything, he longed for Madame to return the affection he felt for her but sometimes, women can be cruel, especially when it comes to love.
"No matter how much I did, how much my acclaim grew, she still looked at me the same and when I professed my love, she rejected me." Bumpy sobs grew with every word uttered, breaking down before Ricky until he was completely shattered.
Ricky looked at the broken man lying on the floor, rubbing his neck, knowing he was either going to break Madame's back eventually or possibly later that night.
However, even if Ricky wanted to do away with Bumpy, he knew the man was too valuable to lose, he had the potential to be a solid subordinate.
But there was always a catch: Bumpy not only hated him, but his loyalty, along with his balls, lay firmly in Madame's hands.
Sigh
Ricky pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that his evening of having his balls slapping against Madame's chocolate skin looked to be stopped by this drunken man.
However, Ricky's task was only to find him, not bring him back all cleaned up for Madame St. Clair and besides, Ricky actually needed Bumpy.
It wasn't anything to hide since Ricky was trying to find and gather his spread out bastards.
Before Ricky left, he asked Lucky to look into the names of the women, particularly the ones he had met in Harlem, including Ruth.
Ruth was something Ricky wanted to handle personally, but he didn't have the time to sniff out all three of them.
"Listen, Bumpy, I didn't come here to judge or drag you back to Madame," Ricky revealed, his voice steady, while Bumpy remained sprawled on the floor.
"Then why are you here Slick, to rub it in my face?" Bumpy looked up, completely defeated in every regard, thinking Ricky was going to rub salt in the wound only to hear a scoff.
"Obviously, but it's no fun rubbing it in your face in this state and besides, what I want will give you something that you shouldn't refuse." Ricky rummaged into his suit pocket as Bumpy scoffed, scraping his palms against the floor while looking up at him.
"Is this some lingo for you pulling a gun at me-" Bumpy, thinking Ricky was going to threaten him, suddenly had a piece of paper thrown at him.
His face became plain, gazing at Ricky who merely gestured for him to look as he scooped the paper up and held it out for Bumpy to see.
"Everlean Carter, Azilee Harris, Mayola Davis-what is this Slick?" Bumpy read off the names only to give him a stupid expression.
"There are three people I need you to find." Ricky reached into his coat pocket, throwing a wad of money at him.
"This is expenses for tracking them down-"
"Why the f*ck would I help you." Bumpy laughed out, forcing himself to stand on his feet as Ricky looked him dead in the eye.
"Because you do this for me, I'll owe you a favor." Ricky's words rang in Bumpy's ears and he sort of froze.
To the average person a mere favor seemed trivial but in these guy's world, it was everything.
Asking for a favor was one thing but giving a favor was akin to a blank check and Ricky was serious about this.
These three were all former residents of Harlem and Ricky had only the system description to look into it but even then, with his business about to begin and the family, he didn't have any time to play investigator.
"You're kidding?" Bumpy asked, thinking this was some sort of joke but Ricky shrugged.
"You know guys like me don't kid about this stuff." Ricky gestured, putting his hands in his pockets before looking at Bumpy.
"And besides, from how you're acting to how you present yourself, are you really about to tell me that you don't have any time to go on a wild goose chase?" Ricky genuinely asked Bumpy, raising an eyebrow as the man lowered his gaze.
In fact, Ricky was right; Bumpy was lost, feeling like all his efforts were worthless, as though he were drifting without a clear purpose.
"Fine." Bumpy muttered, dingdown to pick up the wad of money before looking at Ricky.
"But if this is a trap-"
"Oh, come on, Bumpy, we both know I don't think you're worth going to this extent for some ruse." Ricky laughed, walking away and tossing the insult over his shoulder as he waved, leaving Bumpy scoffing behind him.
Looking at the names, Bumpy scrunched his eyebrows in confusion before pocketing the paper and turning his gaze back to the mirror.
"I guess getting cleaned up wouldn't hurt."
15 minutes later,
"And you didn't bring him back!?" Madame asked in an incredulous tone, looking at Ricky as he casually gazed at his watch.
"You asked me to find him, I did-"
"That's not what I was asking-"
Sigh
"Listen, Madame, he obviously doesn't want to talk to you." Ricky sighed heavily, cutting her off as she stiffened at his words, her eyes darting to the side.
"But he's alright. For the time I got his mind off of the devastating state, but there's something that needs to be addressed right now." Ricky slowly walked up to her, placing a hand on her shoulders as she looked up at him.
"Is that what you're going to wear, considering I have a reservation at a critically acclaimed restaurant?" Ricky slowly smiled, watching Madame scoff before walking to the side.
However, when she walked to the edge of the desk, she slowly stopped, the weight of the entire debacle, along with the pressure from her job, starting to take its toll.
"You know what, screw it." Madame, who was going to put it off until sometime next week, suddenly turned to Ricky.
"Let's go." Madame reached out her hand to the surprised but smiling Ricky, who graciously took it, leading her out.
"And before you ask, the dress I want to wear is all alone in some random dress shop." Madame side-eyed Ricky, who laughed, remembering he promised he would take her shopping.
"Oh Madame, how I've missed you."
Meanwhile at the lower side of Queens,
Inside the Steffield Steel factory, the same one that had persevered through the Great Depression, its machinery still humming as it had during the darkest times, there was a stark contrast between those who worked within its walls and the beggars who loitered just beyond.
The Great Depression's grip was far from gone, though its presence was often downplayed in Ricky's world.
For the blue-collar workers, however, it was a constant weight they carried, felt in the heavy air of the factory and the weariness etched into their faces.
The pressure to provide had never been more intense as each day's wages were the only thing standing between these men and their families going hungry.
Despite the slow recovery of the nation, for these workers, the struggle to make ends meet remained as real as ever, their survival tied to every turn of the factory's wheel.
One of these blue-collar workers, James, was currently operating a massive, roaring furnace at the heart of the Steffield Steel factory.
Sweat beaded on his brow as the heat from the molten metal radiated around him as his calloused hands gripped the heavy levers, guiding the flow of molten steel with practiced precision.
The furnace crackled and hissed, the fiery orange glow casting an eerie light on his face as he carefully adjusted the valve, ensuring the metal poured into the mold without spilling over.
His movements were fluid, mechanical even, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his worn boots scuffing against the steel floor.
Sparks flew in all directions, igniting the darkened room, but James didn't flinch as he had become numb to the dangers around him.
Every muscle in his body ached from the long hours with such little wages, but he pushed through, knowing that the job needed to be done.
"Aye James, take a fiver, I'll cover." James' father, Herold, who had been working in this factory before working with his father before that.
They were three generations of Steffield Steelworkers and the grueling work showed when Herold hand gripped the lever, his left hand missing three fingers and his right hand covered in scars.
"Thanks dad, I'll go drain the snake, be back in a sec." James joked, hurriedly walking towards the bathroom only to see a line forming as he scoffed.
Looking around, James exited through the door and nudged himself into the wedges of a fence to let out the bulking amount of urine that had been held for the last three hours.
"So it's true, about the factory?"
Right as James was about to release the gates, his ear twitched, halting his piss while his eyes peaked through a small peephole to see two cleaned and dressed men.
If they didn't have black smudges littering their bodies, then it only meant that they were upper management that surveyed their back breaking work while they reaped all the benefits.
"Yep, looks like Steffields completely over this place, gonna shut down the factory and move it to Pittsburgh or some back watered place." The other guy, with gelled and neat hair, informed his associate who sighed.
"What about, you know, our jobs-"
"Oh come on, we're upper management." The other guy chuckled, inhaling his cigarette and blowing the smoke into the air.
"We're gonna be fine, but the grunts." The other guy flicked his cigarette to the ground.
"Well, that's a different story." The other guy flicked his head, walking in front as the man followed along.
"Will there be layoffs-"
"Ha!" The other guy laughed, walking towards the corner as James' eyes shook violently at this fact.
"It's not gonna be layoffs, but a complete extermination." The other guy joked as if their livelihoods meant nothing, making James simply stand there for a long time.
Eventually, he arrived at his stop as Herold gave him a worried expression, wanting to ask something but seeing it had to wait.
"James, come on and give me a hand!"
James unfortunately couldn't even harpe on this devastating fact, having to actually go back to his grueling work for the next three hours.
Only at the end of the work day, when everyone was walking back to their homes in a massive flocking, did Herold pull him to the side.
"James, what's the matter?" Herold asked, scrunching his brows since James had been out of it for the entire time that he had come back.
"They-"
James wanted to say everything, wanted to spill out all the worries and frustrations weighing on him, but when the words came to the surface, they stuck in his throat.
Standing before his father, who had worked beneath his grandfather in the mill for as long as James could remember, he found himself unable to break the cycle with a few simple words.
He couldn't find the courage to speak, to shatter the tradition that had been passed down through generations, as though the very act of speaking might unravel everything they had built.
"I-I need to take sh*t." James immediately changed the subject, Herold caught off guard before bursting out into a loud barrage of laughter.
"Well, alright then."
Through the entire night, James seemed sort of out of it while his large family surrounded him at the dinner table.
Times were tough and right now, he and his father were living along with their families in this small cramped house.
But instead of despair, the dinner table was filled with laughs and joyful expressions as these folks made the most of what they had, instead of harping on what they didn't.
James sat by the side, aimlessly eating his mashed potatoes while his family rambled on about the news surrounding them.
"Hey did you hear the news up in Staten Island?" Herold's wife asked them all, having a juicy piece of gossip she wanted to share.
"Evidently that mutant Ricky Luciano is opening a business, partnering with some immigrants to form a production company." Herold's wife continued, her words immediately making James' ear twitch.
"Oh my, I hear about that too!" James' own wife covered her mouth next to him, looking at her with widened eyes.
"I heard that it's going to bring in a lot of jobs-"
"How many jobs?!" James suddenly interrupted, standing up amidst the table and immediately standing up as everyone gave him a weird look.
"I-I don't know, but they say there looking at places for a factory-"
"Factory!?" James leaned in, his expression serious as it sort of scared his own mother who looked at Herold, showing a clear frown.
"Boy, don't talk to your mother like she's some criminal you're interrogating," Herold warned, his voice sharp.
But James ignored him, his gaze drifting to the side, avoiding his father's eyes as the tension in the room thickened.
'Yeah, Ricky's doing fine, but now he goes by Ricky Luciano.' The words of an old friend, one he had accidentally run into a while back, reverberated in his mind as James suddenly bolted towards the door, his pulse racing.
"James? JAMES!" Herold stood up, yelling after James who abruptly grabbed his coat and ran off, leaving his family high and dry without an explanation, making his grandfather scoff.
"Kids these days."
At a low-end mechanic shop, James, the familiar steel worker, slowly approached, hat in hand, his steps heavy with hesitation.
He made his way toward a car with someone working beneath it, only the legs visible from under the chassis.
Tap
Tap
"Just a minute!" The man's voice came from under the car, before he swerved from under the car with black splotches on him with a smile.
"Names Bucky Barnes, how can I help ya, sir?"
Author's Note: Shout out to my boy Tanaka from Haiykuu, he goated fr.
Author's Note2: I've seen your commetns, but I'm hungover and I'll reply later
5 advanced chaps on my patreon https://www.patreon.com/LaughingFiend
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