do we walk on common grounds? | Pierre/Giovanni

d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel
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call me jaded

do we walk on common grounds? | Pierre/Giovanni Jun 19, 2017 9:14:45 GMT -5

Post by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel on Jun 19, 2017 9:14:45 GMT -5

A video from the president and awards, he never thought all this came with the package. He wasn’t complaining about the amount of work he has had to endure, just how surreal the type of work has been. Tasks he never knew existed, Pierre has experienced so many “first times.” He wonders what Lilly, Paige and Eva would have thought of the whole ordeal, would they have supported him?

Children, the whole point of his campaign. It seemed like a good main policy to have, setting a future for the generation to come and well it is stuck and it has helped with his success so it must have been good choice. His other candidates involved with children and families too, Roosevelt a fellow Dad and Caimile, a member of one of the most notorious families in the District. Supposedly a woman from the Hopes has dabbled in that family, spawning Hope-Rasoios, not that he has ever met them before.

Another day and another campaign trail, handing out the flyers. His face, plastered across a green award winning flyer, he has grown sick of seeing himself, and he doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror anymore.

He was advised to campaign in the other candidate’s territory, he was fine with walking onto Roosevelt’s and Oriana’s but with the rumours of the Rasoios, he was very reluctant to even step out of the house this morning.

Hopefully the hoard of supporters, who are out in force surrounding him today, will protect him from the violent tales that have been shared. It wasn’t that long before they all reached the heart of the Rasoio territory, their workers filled the streets. Legitimate looking workers, the rumours are li…oh. Men line the walls of the one of the factories, the iconic flat caps placed on their heads and the man himself, Giovanni Rasoio, a man he had only heard of and not met. Would it be polite to shake his hand?

Stepping out from his shield of supporters, Pierre extends his hand to the man, a forced smile calls home on his face. ”It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr Rasoio, my name is Pierre Hope.”

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do we walk on common grounds? | Pierre/Giovanni Jun 19, 2017 13:07:05 GMT -5

Post by kousei ♚ on Jun 19, 2017 13:07:05 GMT -5

"What a view."

I flick the lit cigarette with my thumb and index finger, the dim glowing orange that lands on the ground instantly snuffed out with my heel. What a view indeed, the simple sight of the streets that is. But they're my streets, where people wear my clothes and quiver at the sight of my name. They call it crime, I call it an empire. Empire -- that word itself is more relaxing than the taste of any cigarette. Empire built on a foundation of opportunity.

There's opportunity in the wake of every tragedy, and if there's one thing I can pride myself on in over fourty years it's my abillity to take opportunity. An empire, built from the ground up, with a span that matches multiple decades all thanks to my keen eye for opportunity and a little something called initiative.

Sometimes I wonder how numb I've really gotten; just over a year has passed since and I can already focus on things such as the view. I can already focus on things threats such as Pierre Hope, a threat to the expansion of my dynasty and could potentially snatch the mayorship from my daughter's fingers. I've entertained the entire of sending someone to his doorstep but public figures have alwas been the problematic ones. Just the very sight of his corpse may put the peacekeepers back onto us.

If I cut his throat toay I would be hung tomorrow.

So I play his little game, letting a crooked smile etch its way onto my features and taking his hand with the sternest grip imaginable. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard so much about you. Please, just call me Giovanni."

I don't let my grip loosen, not even for a second.

d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel
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call me jaded

do we walk on common grounds? | Pierre/Giovanni Jun 19, 2017 13:45:10 GMT -5

Post by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel on Jun 19, 2017 13:45:10 GMT -5

A naïve simple man like Pierre Hope, that’s how all his friends used to call him. The child of his peers, even at his age; his children had more maturity than him. He won’t amount to much. For so long, he proved them right. Pierre Hope, just a simple man with a simple job, a simple life. The only good thing in his life, his family but their success does not stem from him. His daughters are dead and his son has been involved with the law, is that a family to be proud of?

Not even a year since Eva passed and he is pursuing something as big as mayor – was it the right time?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you. Please, just call me Giovanni.”

The male’s hand remains on Pierre’s and he shifts his eyes down to their lock, already sensing the sweat that is creeping to his palm. Is he going to let go? Regret nips at him, there was really no reason for him to come here and it looks like he is going to be unable to escape in a hurry.

Attention flags up all over the street as eyes turn to the meeting between the two men. Pierre is fascinated by how fast the media has arrived; taking advantage of the exchange between the Hope and Rasoio, the obvious handshake image will be printed large on some spread.

But awkwardness ensues as Pierre stares blankly at his hand; his skin begins to fade as the blood circulation is cut. He can’t lose it now. ”I admire your work Mist-…Giovanni, your presence in this area can be seen, you are doing a good job.” At least he can try and make friends with the enemy.

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do we walk on common grounds? | Pierre/Giovanni Jun 20, 2017 16:21:07 GMT -5

Post by kousei ♚ on Jun 20, 2017 16:21:07 GMT -5

When someone unwanted wanders into my territory, the realisation followed by the fear is always quite palpable. They always find a way to sweat, no matter the temperature, no matter the season, there's always sweat. I suppose it's just a natural reaction when they're nervous and they'd be a fool if they weren't nervous -- we didn't get our reputation for nothing. No doubt the stern grip sends a message and the realization of that message when it hits is always clear, despite the show we put on for the cameras. If he was a peacekeeper this would be different but he isn't, a Rasoio is running as his opponent and this is certainly Rasoio territory. Peacekeepers may rule the streets and keep law and order but I'm the king of the underground here and he'll know it.

There are always awkward words exchanged between, sometimes they're rather amusing even by my own admission. ”I admire your work Mist-…Giovanni, your presence in this area can be seen, you are doing a good job.” And I suppose he's right, I am doing a good job. I often find myself wondering how many people in the district wear the cheap clothes our production line makes, how many poor families we've clothed, how many idiots we've left blinded.

I gave up counting years ago.

I grin, releasing the iron grip on his hand once I'm satisfied he gets the message. "It's nothing really, putting clothes on people's backs is practically second nature, especially for a man such as myself who has lived in District Eight all of his life. You would've thought this place was made for that sort of thing or something." I laugh, a joke to put him at ease, I doubt he's seen the reality yet after all. I turn, opening up the way for him past the cameras and the spectators. His status may keep him safe but we're in my territory now after all.

"Walk with me."