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Chapter 12- Foe or Freind

  SLASH!
You felt a small breeze, soon realizing the knife just missed you by merely an inch. Not even enough time to process how it cut one strand of your hair.

"HEY!" Al yelled out.

You were quickly pulled aside by Oliver. Al moved forward, looking around who was responsible. In his hand had his rusty bat, the very same knife stabbed right in the middle. Light reflected off the blade, its brightness matching Oliver's now creepy smile. Matt gave a menacing glare, one that competes Al as he moved forward as well.

Funny, this reminded you of chess. Except Francois didn't move, only bit down harder on his cigarette.

"The fuck was that for, asshole?!" Al shouted towards a sitting man. No one touches his bat. Oh, and you too he guess. The man's red eyes almost matched Al's, except his wasn't covered in fury.

"Ah, took you long enough~," the man mocked in a thick Italian accent, the palm of his hand resting on his chin. He's clothing was... unusual, in a nicer term. An Italian military uniform, with a hat adorned by a feathered. You smiled, put a feather on his cap and called it macaroni. The man's expression did not soften at your smile and looked at your "family", as Oliver called it.

  "You're late." His mood dropped, like a needle dropping in a quiet room. Everyone took notice.

  More importantly, all eyes were on you.

"Sorry about that, chap~" Oliver replied, "though it is quite rude to throw knives, don't you think?" His eyes gleamed with malice, yet the man did not flinch nor changed his mood from Oliver's tone. Though his eyes locked on you, curiously tilting his head.

  First, he throws a knife at you, now doesn't even bother to apologize? How-

"-Rude!" You caught yourself saying, not even realizing your outburst.

Guess all that pent-up anger exploded. Whoops.

"So this is the kid I was told about," the man now stands up and strides toward you, "Luciano Vargas~." He held out his hand for a handshake. You were pulled away from him farther in a snap.

"I suppose you haven't met (Name)," Oliver said, his nails digging into your shoulders.

Luciano frowned, "Not even trusting me enough for an introduction?"

Don't tell me this guy is more of a foe than a friend. You tugged your shoulder away from Oliver's death-grip, you are not going to stand still and be scared in front of this "Luciano" man. Despite having no confidence, past experience taught you are great at acting. Thanks, dad. "W-well I'm (Name)."

Why thank you as well, stuttering.

"Enough with the introduction crap!" Al joined in, pulling out the knife out of the bat. He stepped towards Luciano, ready for a fight.

That is until a hand was placed in front of him.

  "Let us not fight," The voice belonged to a tall fellow, having a Russian accent that was almost muffled by the gray scarf. Dark circles formed under his eyes that matched his frown. "Luciano called in for an emergency meeting." He took the knife away from Al, and kept it to himself instead. A flicker went through Luciano's eyes.

"Whatever," Al muttered, he went to a seat before flipping off Luciano. The Russian man was satisfied to stop the fight and returned the knife to its owner so another fight won't start. This man knows very well how Luciano can be possessive of his knives. He sat down in his seat, not batting an eyelash towards your presence. With the fight settled down, the meeting can now finally being.

A round table was placed dead center, with each chair occupied by different people with different faces. Extra chairs were placed at the side of the wall, whether they knew you were coming or expected chairs to be broken. By the attitude of this meeting, you assumed the latter. Francois grabbed an extra wooden chair for you. "Here," and placed it in the corner of the room before going to his chair.

  Far away from the table... Asshole.

"Oh don't be like that!" Oliver said as he placed the very same chair beside him. Without any warning, he tugged you into your seat."You can sit here, poppet~"

Now thinking about it, you should've sat down in that corner when you had the chance.

"Finally, now that everybody is here," Luciano started, "I called this meeting to discuss our..." his fingers tapped the table, looking for a word. Business? Problem? " -situation."

It was good enough.

  In his hand was a remote control, now pointing at the small tv located at the opposite end of the table. With a click of his hand, the black empty screen transformed into gray static.

And still static.

"... It's not even a working tv," another man sighed, and you realized it was the very same man on the news earlier. One of the men with red eyes. Now getting a better view, he was dressed in a Japanese military uniform as well, with black hair to mimic its black color. Quite similar to Luciano's clothing style, except he didn't wore a hat.

"Just wait, dammit!" Luciano scowled. The man who was called "Kuro" rolled his eyes with a scoff. "This stupid thing won't work!" After minutes of tinkering and trying to make the tv work, he dropped the remote and his pissy attitude. "Anyways..."

You heard a muffled cry from the door. Everyone did as their heads snapped towards the door. Before a comment can be made, Luciano went towards the door, looking back at everyone, "I suppose this will be a surprise~"

The doors were slammed open, an echo resonating the room. A hand was seen, pushing someone into the room. It was a man on the brink of tears, his sides all tied up by a rope.

"P-please let me go!"

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Chapter 12- Foe or Freind

  SLASH!
You felt a small breeze, soon realizing the knife just missed you by merely an inch. Not even enough time to process how it cut one strand of your hair.

"HEY!" Al yelled out.

You were quickly pulled aside by Oliver. Al moved forward, looking around who was responsible. In his hand had his rusty bat, the very same knife stabbed right in the middle. Light reflected off the blade, its brightness matching Oliver's now creepy smile. Matt gave a menacing glare, one that competes Al as he moved forward as well.

Funny, this reminded you of chess. Except Francois didn't move, only bit down harder on his cigarette.

"The fuck was that for, asshole?!" Al shouted towards a sitting man. No one touches his bat. Oh, and you too he guess. The man's red eyes almost matched Al's, except his wasn't covered in fury.

"Ah, took you long enough~," the man mocked in a thick Italian accent, the palm of his hand resting on his chin. He's clothing was... unusual, in a nicer term. An Italian military uniform, with a hat adorned by a feathered. You smiled, put a feather on his cap and called it macaroni. The man's expression did not soften at your smile and looked at your "family", as Oliver called it.

  "You're late." His mood dropped, like a needle dropping in a quiet room. Everyone took notice.

  More importantly, all eyes were on you.

"Sorry about that, chap~" Oliver replied, "though it is quite rude to throw knives, don't you think?" His eyes gleamed with malice, yet the man did not flinch nor changed his mood from Oliver's tone. Though his eyes locked on you, curiously tilting his head.

  First, he throws a knife at you, now doesn't even bother to apologize? How-

"-Rude!" You caught yourself saying, not even realizing your outburst.

Guess all that pent-up anger exploded. Whoops.

"So this is the kid I was told about," the man now stands up and strides toward you, "Luciano Vargas~." He held out his hand for a handshake. You were pulled away from him farther in a snap.

"I suppose you haven't met (Name)," Oliver said, his nails digging into your shoulders.

Luciano frowned, "Not even trusting me enough for an introduction?"

Don't tell me this guy is more of a foe than a friend. You tugged your shoulder away from Oliver's death-grip, you are not going to stand still and be scared in front of this "Luciano" man. Despite having no confidence, past experience taught you are great at acting. Thanks, dad. "W-well I'm (Name)."

Why thank you as well, stuttering.

"Enough with the introduction crap!" Al joined in, pulling out the knife out of the bat. He stepped towards Luciano, ready for a fight.

That is until a hand was placed in front of him.

  "Let us not fight," The voice belonged to a tall fellow, having a Russian accent that was almost muffled by the gray scarf. Dark circles formed under his eyes that matched his frown. "Luciano called in for an emergency meeting." He took the knife away from Al, and kept it to himself instead. A flicker went through Luciano's eyes.

"Whatever," Al muttered, he went to a seat before flipping off Luciano. The Russian man was satisfied to stop the fight and returned the knife to its owner so another fight won't start. This man knows very well how Luciano can be possessive of his knives. He sat down in his seat, not batting an eyelash towards your presence. With the fight settled down, the meeting can now finally being.

A round table was placed dead center, with each chair occupied by different people with different faces. Extra chairs were placed at the side of the wall, whether they knew you were coming or expected chairs to be broken. By the attitude of this meeting, you assumed the latter. Francois grabbed an extra wooden chair for you. "Here," and placed it in the corner of the room before going to his chair.

  Far away from the table... Asshole.

"Oh don't be like that!" Oliver said as he placed the very same chair beside him. Without any warning, he tugged you into your seat."You can sit here, poppet~"

Now thinking about it, you should've sat down in that corner when you had the chance.

"Finally, now that everybody is here," Luciano started, "I called this meeting to discuss our..." his fingers tapped the table, looking for a word. Business? Problem? " -situation."

It was good enough.

  In his hand was a remote control, now pointing at the small tv located at the opposite end of the table. With a click of his hand, the black empty screen transformed into gray static.

And still static.

"... It's not even a working tv," another man sighed, and you realized it was the very same man on the news earlier. One of the men with red eyes. Now getting a better view, he was dressed in a Japanese military uniform as well, with black hair to mimic its black color. Quite similar to Luciano's clothing style, except he didn't wore a hat.

"Just wait, dammit!" Luciano scowled. The man who was called "Kuro" rolled his eyes with a scoff. "This stupid thing won't work!" After minutes of tinkering and trying to make the tv work, he dropped the remote and his pissy attitude. "Anyways..."

You heard a muffled cry from the door. Everyone did as their heads snapped towards the door. Before a comment can be made, Luciano went towards the door, looking back at everyone, "I suppose this will be a surprise~"

The doors were slammed open, an echo resonating the room. A hand was seen, pushing someone into the room. It was a man on the brink of tears, his sides all tied up by a rope.

"P-please let me go!"