Queunanina

Vanni's speech: Casual, usually not perfectly Eloquent, Structured, Laconic, rather Vulgar at times "Oh, I can't find my shoes! Do you know where they are?" "But I love you! You're my big sister, and I'm going to take care of you." "Don't be ridiculous. The dog can't climb trees." (?! I don't even know.) Renata's speech: when actually speaking, more on the Formal side, Ineloquent, Haphazard, Laconic, completely Clean (when narrating) I....I guess he did. I mean, he was doing it right now. "Signore, I'd never do something like that." It just didn't fit him. Why wasn't he.... "Vanni, I love you, but maybe you should be a little m

 Giovanni Laudani confidently stepped into the room filled with mafiosos. It could have been any business conference, what with the usual bland decor and men in business suits. Giovanni mentally took roll of who was already present as Renata stood beside him. Salvatore Accardo, crossing his legs and reclining in a chair to the middle of the table, seemed to be stoically avoiding conversation with the capo of the Bellicianno family, an annoying little man. Accardo flashed a brilliant smile in the Laudanis' direction. Renata, realizing that the smile was directed at her, cautiously returned one. Giovanni arched an eyebrow and looked on disappro

 By the time the quasi-meeting was in almost over, Renata had left to...to do whatever Renata usually did. She'd ironed Giovanni's clothes, which were sitting on their hangers in the other room, but Giovanni was still speaking to the men. They were two caporemignes, and he remembered now why he'd called them. And now that he was done looking like a moron, he got down to business. Reclining in the beige chair opposite the couch, they spoke of assassins, drugs, underworld politics, legal politics, and all things mafia. Giovanni stood in the middle of Marco's sentence. The latter paused, but Giovanni waved for him to continue. Marco had to spe

 I woke slowly in the earlier morning - that hour when no one decent is awake, and didn't move in an attempt to will myself back to sleep. Just before I succeeded, the door opened, and Vanni stood over me. I was too sleepy to really register he was there. "Renata?" "Mmmmm?" "I...can I sleep with you? I had a....I can't go to sleep." He shuffled, embarrassed. "It's just...I....I think it was something in the drinks...." "Mmmm....sure...." I rolled over, and Vanni curled up under the covers. He slung an arm over my middle and we were successfully claimed by sleep. When I woke a little after seven, I found my younger brother snuggled u

 I stretched my back lazily as some of the most powerful men in Italy, and maybe the world, glared at each other from behind their cards. Some of them watched me instead of each other, which was unsurprising given the low-cut and rather expensive gown I was wearing. I pretended not to notice; it was their mistake, and I didn't mind. They would stare starry eyed at me while my brother happily stole their poker chips, unnoticed by all. He grinned at me, and beckoned to a waitress. "A little wine, amici miei?" Their murmured in agreement, and the shy waitresses tentatively jotted down their respective drinks. She turned to me last. "Do you w

 "Ah! ¡Mira la tierra! No es malo..." A Spainard stood at the bow of a 1600-era Spanish galleon, leaning against the railing. He absently tossed the tomato he was holding up and caught it again, and after doing this a few times bit into it. A stocky sailor, tan from his numerous days in the sun, approached him and reported, "We'll take the smaller boats to the mainland in a few minutes." "Excelente. I'll show mi muy bueno amigo France to stay on his side of the Mississippi by the time I'm done here." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He'd settled Mexico from the Aztecs, surely this new colony would be no problem. And in a

    "Well, I suppose you could be right..." An eight year-old Ammon finished somewhat regretfully. The girl beside him tossed her sandy hair, as if in annoyance.    "Of course I am! You seriously can't be expected to stay in this palace your whole life! The experience will do you good." Maani crossed her arms and eagerly looked to the palace gates. But Ammon was still reluctant.    "I'm not allowed to leave....Not without Manetho." He sounded a bit more timid than he'd have liked. He usually wasn't like this, but Maani's brash personality subdued his much quieter demeanor.    She scowled. "And with maybe five other guards, if you're luc

    Maybe I would have noticed the flying desk had I not been spacing out. As it happened, the leg of the chair barely nicked my ear. The only reason I didn't flinch was because my reflexes are so slow. I snatched my baton from a pocket in my Chelsea FC jacket, relieved that I was the only student in the hallway. And that I was standing outside the choir room.    I may as well describe my enemy as a giant fruit bat. I smirked. Bats had supersonic hearing. However, before I blasted out the Batman-wannabe's eardrums, I shattered the lens on a nearby camera. There. Now I could fight for my life in peace. The band-hall wasn't too far, I might b

 "Hey, cheater! Give it back!" A blonde-haired child pulled at his brother's hair, attempting to wrestle a ball away from him. The ball was really a worthless old thing, an old inflated bladder. But, in the spirit of the game, the brothers cast off their reservations about touching it and instead fought each other for it. Rules of the game? Nothing, really. Just fight over the ball and get it to the goal and try to only kick the ball. The goals? Two miles apart. The point? Beat the crap out of your siblings and then win some bragging rights. This appealed to everyone, which shows what kind of family they were, exactly. "Cheater?! You're the

    "Hey, you're suicidal. What colours do you want for your funeral?"    "You've only known me for two days and already you want me dead?"    "No, but you seem to have a tendency to put yourself in lethal situations, and I'm preparing for the inevitable."    "Ah, of course. I'd like blue and gold."    "Pretty....Do you want roses on your grave?"    "No, I'd prefer daisies."    "The flower that comes back to life every year? Someone doesn't exactly understand the laws of life and death."    "Hmm, I suppose not....Belladonnas, then."    "Oh, good choice. They're pretty."    "They are. But you don't seem the type of woman to w