The New World > The Badlands

villain of my own story — introduction, open.

(1/1)

laurent.:
Laurent Knope was not fed love on a silver spoon; he had learned to lick it off knives.

He hadn't always been a house on fire, but he was full of fight nonetheless. A home where his family could seek shelter to feel protected from the world outside, Laurent was always their safety. Their shelter. But if he were to carry the weight of their responsibilities on his shoulders, then who was his home? He felt worthless if he could not be of service, and so for his family he refused to crack under this immense pressure. Hands bloodied and knuckles bruised, Laurent's life had been one where he had been met with more fists than handshakes, more lies than reassurances, more disappointment than satisfaction. Teddy would ridicule him for being a pessimist, but who could blame him?

He remembered too much about their past. Like the air in his lungs when his breath was hitched in the back of his throat — on high alert for any sound of his father's power-hungry hysteria in the room across — as it held itself still, letting nothing escape. He remembered too much as he lived and breathed the memories of his childhood. Flies hovering over dirty dishes, wallpaper peeling off of walls, a backyard with dying grass in it, and a father that was never home. It was not the whimsical fantasy that young Teddy boy had conjured in his mind, but that house was an everyday reminder that Hell was a place on Earth, indeed. Those memories consumed as much as his body as his flesh and bones, and it made Laurent cruel. Cruel enough to shut everyone out because the ones that trusted the least had once been the ones who trusted too much.

He no longer wished to be trapped in the life where he forever remained a child, staring out the window and thinking that one day he could touch the world with his bare, bloody knuckled hands, even if it burned. A place where he could create and destroy, bring life and end it, search for a life beyond the ramshackle hands of his father's stony-hearted clutch and find a place which finally felt like the throne. Never again would he be that young boy destined to a life of destitute, sacrificing his own childhood to give his baby brother a few more years of ignorant bliss before he too would be thrust into a life where everyday was another day to feel afraid. He wanted fear, power, a life where he was finally in control of its outcome.

Once it had been the power that had bound the two brothers; now, it was the power that kept them apart.

Stern eyes darted across the town square to where Theodore lounged back at a coffee table, head thrown back with laughter as he waved a cigarette pinched between two fingers towards Papa who sat opposite, sipping at a coffee with a smug grin. ❝ Yeah, and d'ya remember that fella down of Royal Street who used ta try and scam us of our money. He'd try dat trick at least once a month! ❞ It felt like the old days where Laurent and Teddy were not on speaking terms. It always appeared as if Giovanni was always what kept the brothers away from one another. He promised his sons salvation and left nothing but a bitter taste in Laurent's mouth.

Laurent clutched tighter on James' hand as Julien played a couple of steps ahead of them, tiptoeing on the stamped concrete road as if were a game of hop scotch. ❝ Dis is our funny game! ❞ Julien informed with puffing breaths as he jumped on each slab, earning a halfhearted hum from Laurent as his distracted gaze lingered on his brother and father from across the street. Before he could make a sharp turn to avoid them, James began to pull his hand away and jog towards Teddy, soon followed by Julien as the two boys exclaimed, ❝ Uncle Teddy! ❞

He thought that he could be understood without words but here he was, lip twitching in a slight scowl before following his sons to the table. ❝ Aww sha! Where ya been?! ❞ Teddy exclaimed, crinkling his nose as he leaned forwards to tickle the twins' sides, earning a squirm and giggle from both. ❝ Lets go, boys. ❞ Laurent's voice was monotonous yet commandeering as his brows knitted together. Teddy peered up towards his older brother, lips attempting to twitch into a smile but falling short just as quickly.

Giovanni was soon to pipe up. ❝ Relax... They just sayin' hey to their favourite uncle and grandpa. ❞ ❝ Right, we're going. ❞ Jaw was considerably tighter. The word ❝ grandpa ❞ felt rotten in his mouth and so he would refer to him using his given name. ❝ Say bye to Uncle Teddy and Giovanni, else we can't play on da beach. ❞ The twins pulled away from the table, giving the two men a wave before trotting away, leaving Laurent to stare down at the coffee table with a look of contempt.

❝ He might have ya on a tight leash, but don't drag my kids into the middle of it. I don't want him to even look their way. ❞ Laurent lectured Teddy before he whipped his head towards Giovanni, jabbing a pointed his way and brows raising with disgust, ❝ Ya hear me? You ain't their grandpa if you never wanted to be my pops. You don't get to try play ya game of redemption with my boys; they deserve better than that. ❞

Turning to walk away, a Made Man approached with lips parted to ask Laurent a question. Laurent pointed his finger towards him, snarling, ❝ Fuck off, ❞ before redirecting his attention towards Giovanni one last time to state, ❝ and fuck you. ❞ Catching up to his boys, Laurent left with flaring nostrils and eyes alight with flames. Laurent had never wanted Giovanni to be a Saint — he didn't even want him to be a good man — he just wanted him to be his father.

Once reaching the beach, he waved the boys off as they went to go play by the sea, soon slumping down on a deck chair nearby as he kept a close eye on them. This was supposed to be an afternoon off of his usual work just so that he could enjoy family life, and instead his mind was consumed by a deep-seated rage towards a family that felt dead to him, yet they haunted him nonetheless. But, Laurent would keep reminding himself: no matter the situation, never let emotions overpower intelligence. Perhaps today was a slight blip, but Laurent was only human (even though most likened him to the devil) — but he would learn from this mistake.

It was so fucked up that he had to learn about love from a man that never loved him, but Laurent would do his best to be the father that Giovanni could never be. Maybe one day Teddy would understand where Laurent was coming from.

KAVINSKY.:
foxwell made this bitch imageyeetyeet KAVINSKY - 28 - m - made man

The air at last was beginning to feel mild and sweet in Joey's lungs. Nothing was better than weather like this. Not too hot, not too cold, a slight breeze and slightly cloudy sunshine. It reminded him of his childhood spent wandering the New Jersey boardwalks, a fistful of cash given to him by his Baba to get him out of the house for a few hours. K was what you would call a relatively free-range child, sent away from the house and given only a small amount of money and a curfew from age 8. It was better than staying home and possibly being in the path of his father's misdirected rage, though, so he kept to the streets.

Coping with the pain dealt by his father was not an easy affair. No one was surprised when the young Kavinsky heir was spotted doing coke in an alley, no one was surprised when he started selling, no one was surprised when he shot his father in the head point-blank range in supposed self defense. The drugs were his escape from cruel reality, and nothing else ceased the screaming that constantly came from his every move, every beat of his sick, under-developed, atrophied, cocaine-ridden heart.

The best day of his life was the day he put the bullet between his father's eyes.

It really had been in self defense, he swore by it. He had defended himself from having to live with the sick fuck a day fucking longer and ended his miserable existence with the very weapon that had been held against his own head countless times while threats were screamed into his face. He never told anyone. He knew no one would believe him. So he let the rumors form, allowing them to form what acted as social armor for him. People heard Joseph Kavinsky and murderer and his own father uttered in the same sentence and made a mental note to steer clear. Being called by his father's surname once caused his stomach to turn over, tasting acid at the back of his throat, but now, he wore the family name like a crown, having snatched it from the top of his father's head and claimed it as his own. He took what was left of his father's empire and estate and sold both to the highest bidder for drug money, but he maintained the armor of whispers that followed him from place to place.

Yes, Joseph Kavinsky was no stranger to unhealthy paternal relationships.

As he happened to be walking, getting some air before his next deal, he witnessed the incident between Laurent and Giovanni. He watched the younger of the two storm off to a chair and collapse into it, clearly frustrated. Kavinsky watched him shoo the younger boys away. The man reminded him quite a bit of his own late brother; they had the same tension to their shoulders of an overworked and underappreciated older brother with too much on his plate to be able to relax, even on a day like today.

And who but a stressed out man like that would be in better need of Kavinsky's services?

"Ah," Kavinsky spoke up. "Dads, eh? Who fuckin' needs 'em?" He removed the bag from his back, slinging it to rest on the back of a nearby chair, half-throwing himself down into it. "The fuck do those old farts know?" His Jersey lilt curbed his vowels into handsome waves. "Sounds like you could use an ear, my friend."

Was he going to give this man a free therapy sesh to try and sell him drugs? Maybe. Was he a fucking genius? Absolutely.

Salem:
textSALEMENTRY #018.15.16BL ENFORCERSalem was a stranger to strained paternal relationships. Hell, she was a stranger to all paternal relationships. Her father had left her and her mother before she was even born: perhaps that was why, most of the time, Salem didn't care too much that Jasper didn't have a father figure in his life. You don't miss what you never had.

She had been on the beach when it happened, watching Jasper clunkily roll around aimlessly in the sand, giggling and grasping handfuls of it before letting it go into the wind. When she'd heard shouting, she instinctively pulled Jasper close before turning to look above, where the two brothers and Giovanni sat.

Grandpa.

Some part of her stewed in resentment towards Laurent. He had the option of a family, even if it wasn't good. Giovanni would never even have the opportunity to be Jasper's grandfather, not unless she revealed to Teddy that he was Jasper's father. And that would have more consequences than it was worth.

As the leader sat down in the beach chair, she made no move to stand up from where she was sitting, nor did she release her infant. She decided instead to listen in on what Kavinsky had to say to him: she always did prefer listening to speaking.  VITALS> overall status: 100%

> physical status: stable.
> physical health: 100%
> physical afflictions: none yet.
> minor injuries: none yet.
> major injuries: none yet.

> mental status: stable.
> current status: stable.
> mental health: 100%
> mental illnesses: None
> mental damage: NoneTAGS━ ━xGENERAL
> Elisa Barone | "Salem"
> Female
> 24
━ ━xAPPEARANCE
>Human
> Dark brown hair that varies in shade, pale, blue green eyes.
> Carries at least 2 cigars at a time, a small handgun, and a small switchblade.
> tall, lanky and a bit awkward physically.
>
━ ━xABILITIES
> N/A
> N/A
━ ━xCONFRONTATION
> medium physically | easy/medium mentally
> non-violent power-play allowed
> no kill | request maim/capture
> ask to attack in bolded, underlined and italicized black
━ ━xRELATIONSHIPS
> Lionel King x Melissa Barone
> Son Jasper
> Half brother Rafe
> Half niece Gigi
> Cat Chrisanthymum "Chrissy"
>Bisexual | no crush
>
━ ━xOTHER
> this text + this color = this meaningI'VE COME TOO FAR TO SEE THE END NOW━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ even if my way is wronga small everyone. | beware hidden scrolling

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