Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ]

rocco adriano morelli · Subject: Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ] March 11th 2009, 5:31 pm

He read the note from his father one more time before throwing it away from him and kicking the wall near a windowsill. He ran his hands through his hair, looking upset and more than a little angry. He tried to focus on his breathing and walked over to the window, which was more like an archer slit considering it wascut out of the academy's stone walls. He slid the glass opened and breathed in the frozen but fresh air. Nothing could pollute the air up here besides the Headmaster's helicopter they had all flown in on and the occasional government chopper that had decided to give King's mountain another shot. No one had ever been successful at navigating the surrounding area, and though Rocco wasn't sure how he felt about the Headmaster, he had to admit that the man was a genius, building a school way out here. He liked what the man stood for, and how he was subtley sticking it to the man. He just didn't like school, so it didn't matter that this was a "safe haven" for kids that were going to grow up and get killed by the government. Hell, he had already committed his fair share of crimes. He wouldn't have been surprised if he was already on some kind of watch list. He was grateful to be way up here and away from the world, despite the nightmare of being trapped in a school with no where else to go.

Whatever. He was accustomed to being hounded by his professors for not doing his work and for being a nuisance in class. Granted, he couldn't avoid them here, but it didn't make any difference. He could still ignore them. On second thought, he would get sent back if he didn't do the bare minimum to pass. Dammit. He kicked the wall again, this time stubbing his toe. "Fuck this!"

Really, he was just in a pissy mood because of what the letter had said. His father had succeeded in belittling him, patronizing him, and bashing him with as many curse words as were known to man - many in Italian as well. He had informed his youngest son that even if he did make something out of himself - even if he became the Don of a mafia or the President of the United States - even if he surpassed the "greatness" of his older brothers, his father didn't want to see him again. His father didn't want anything to do with him - didn't even want him to carry on his last name. He wasn't worthy of the family name, no matter what he did with his life, which his father had come to realize would never be anything. He wasn't worthy of the family name because he had run away from his problems and left the family to go to some pretentious academy for people his father had hated from day one in America. The worst part was that Rocco was stil Italian by blood, even if he wasn't a Morelli at heart. And because he was Italian, he knew his father was right. The man was cruel and he hated him with every fiber of his bean. Had he been one of his brothers, his father may have listened as he explained that running away was okay if you needed to for safety reasons, so long as you made up for it and honored the family when it was safe to return - like Michael Corleone in The Godfather. His father would have undderstood. But the thing was, Rocco hadn't killed a cop and offed his father's biggest threat to his business and proved himself to be his father true and noble successor. He had accepted the invitation to the academy and flown away because he hated his family and didn't care about school. The worst part of all of this is that now the way his father was treating him was perfectly understandable and indisputable - at least for an Italian. And even though he knew it was the right choice, and that if he hadn't left he and his father would have snapped and one of them would have ended up dead and the other would have faced life in prison - maybe a few less years. He knew it was the right choice for himself, but he hated rejecting the natural honor to family that outlined the only part of himself he was proud of. He hated failing his Italian blood, even though he hated being a Morelli. Even when he stopped thinking about his betrayal, he realized that while leaving was the right choice to avoid a domestic homicide, was it really going to help his future? His father was right. At the rate he was going, he didn't have a future. He didn't want a future.

His life was looking grim, but he couldn't find an ounce of sadness in his body. In his heart, there was only rage, because there could be no sorrow. If he could still cry, he would have been dead years ago. With a father like his and a name like Morelli, you couldn't aford to have a bleeding heart. You could only afford to hope and hate. There was only so much a man could do before he either snapped and started killing people, or gave up and admitted he was completely lost and left pity up to the Higher Powers. Maybe God would see his despair this time, and realize one of his children was about to go over to the dark side if he didn't take care of him soon. Meanwhile, all Rocco could do was try and survive everyday life.

matteo armando ferelli · Subject: Re: Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ] March 22nd 2009, 9:06 pm

He wasn't sure what all the fuss was about. There were plenty of better things he could be doing with his time back home, why was he stuck here? The day he arrived he heard boys and girls mixed all talking about how exciting this was, how happy they were to be here, and how it was safe here. He can take care of himself, and was doing just fine before he was forced here by his parents due to Professor Reefs letter. He shrugged it off as he attempted to find his dorm room. Maybe there's girls here I can get with. Being stuck in a building without much to do, besides school, works for my advantage. He smirked at the thought and decided as long as here was here he might as well abuse the system as much as possible. In fact, he was determined to do so and with a little help from some new found followers he could easily have a little fun.

After asking a petite girl the way towards the boys dorms, he was pointed in the direction he needed go. He wasted no time in making a move on the schools girls, and after getting the information he needed he propositioned that she come to his room later tonight for a little fun. After being harshly kicked in the knee he hobbled up stairs cursing under his breath as he dragged his suitcase behind him. What the fuck? Who turns me down?

Back home he had a large reputation with the women and had multiple girlfriends at one time. Luck was on his side, as he always said, and he was in just the right spot to try and make that happen again. That was one of many reasons why he hated leaving Sicily. Aside from the women, food, parties/ nightlife, he had small gang that owned parts of the cities streets. He hates being on bottom and after being kicked in the shin and placed in a new setting he was having trouble smiling.

At the top of the stairs he made one last tug and down he fell. Full of anger he grabbed the handle and power walked down the halls to where the shin kicking girl had directed him. He wasn't courteous to begin with, but if there was any ounce of courtesy left it left when he fell. He open the door wide without knocking and saw a boy kick the wall across the room. "Fuck this" he heard. He would have done the same thing if he was as mad as the boy looked, but he needed a release. He tossed his suitcase to the side of the entrance and said "Last time I checked that was a wall, not a soccer ball" His tone was sarcastic but his expression wasn't asking for trouble. He simply liked testing people.

rocco adriano morelli · Subject: Re: Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ] April 12th 2009, 7:31 pm

It took him a moment to return from his thoughts and see through the fog of his emotion. He felt drained, and didn't feel like questioning who this new arrival was. He was so distracted by his rage towards himself and his father that he didn't pick up on any intended sarcasm. If he was being pushed, he didn't notice. He stiffened and took a deep breath before sitting on the edge of his bed and cocking his head towards the other boy.

"Yeah, well, walls are good for kicking when the person you're pissed off at isn't around. I'll have to remember not to trash the place since there are other people around. Sorry." He didn't sound very sorry, but he was thinking about whoever had to room with him and he felt a little bad imagining himself breaking the wall in a fit of rage. He'd have to find somewhere more private and less visited whenever he was feeling emotional or reflective.

But now he had someone around to talk to, which could be good. He hadn't met many people yet, and whoever this guy was, he was one of the first. Rocco didn't feel like making an enemy but something about the vibes coming from him didn't rub him the right way. Maybe it was just his mood. He tried sounding a little more interested and personable. "So who are you?"

matteo armando ferelli · Subject: Re: Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ] April 12th 2009, 9:37 pm

He was half impressed and half disappointed when the only boy's action was to sit down on the bed and apologize. Had it been him, he would have had no hesitation in making a sarcastic remark back. He remembered how often he had said things and later regretted it once his nose was broken, but he had too much fun pestering his rivals back home that it was worth it. It had become such a habit, it was almost an addiction. When the boy calmly sat on the bed was brought back to the realization he was no longer home- and the people here were of such diversity it was going to take some time to get used to, until a little drama was introduced.

The sharp pain in his shin was beginning to return and after rubbing it discreetly, he took of his jacket and threw it on his bed. "Don't ever be sorry for being angry. Only wussies apologize for their anger. Are you a wussy?" He slowly turned back and looked over his shoulder as he cracked a patronizing grin. He added "My name is Matteo. Pleased to meet your acquaintance." He winked and turned back around and opened his suitcase on his bed.

Something he was always gifted with was hiding his true emotion when he really wanted to. The boy hadn't given him any reason to hold anything against him, yet, but his dissatisfaction towards the fact he was here instead of home- not to mention having to share a room - was indirectly projected on the boy.

As he opened the closet which was near his bed he thought of the boy sitting behind him and how with a little coaxing he could get the boy to become less of a wall kicking apologetic thing and more of a man, like him.

Taking a little too much pleasure in the idea that everyone secretly wanted to bow down to him, he brought it upon himself to make sure they in fact do. Firstly he needed to gain some common ground, something they both could relate to. After making the decision that finding room for his clothes in the closet was a bore, he turned around to face the boy head on. "I bet you don't like being here much, I know I sure don't. What's your name anyway?"

rocco adriano morelli · Subject: Re: Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ] April 12th 2009, 10:14 pm

Obviously this kid was a total asshole. Whatever. He was too tired in his brain to give a fuck. He'd probably have to snap back later. For now Mr. Ego Trip was going to have to settle with him being genuinely without interest and bored with life. He wasn't sorry for his behavior, but he didn't have any fight in him right now. He had the feeling this dude was just going to get more annoying as time went on, so it was probably best to conserve his energy. How did he get stuck with a roommate like this anyways? Maybe being here wasn't going to be such a pleasant change of scenery after all.

He gave a weary sigh, "Why don't you just call me a pussy and say what you mean?" There was hardly any enthusiasm in his voice. "For the record, I don't tend to give a shit what people think about me. I'm just too tired to give a fuck right now. Anyways, my name's Rocco. I don't really want to be here, but it's better than the alternative." Although if he kept meeting people who fed off drama and were going to create a teenage hormone version of what his house was like, maybe it wasn't better than the alternative.

"Have you met anyone here yet that seemed worth talking to?" He expected the other guy to make some remark that would let him know that he didn't think he was worth talking to, which would be stupid since they were holding a conversation. He hadn't set the question up to give the guy a chance to make another remark in an attempt to piss him off, and he hadn't done it so that he could say something back about how if he wasn't worth talking to, why are we having a conversation? He just wanted to know if there was anyone worth a damn wandering about on this day off - one of the last ones before school started.

matteo armando ferelli · Subject: Re: Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ] April 12th 2009, 10:46 pm

Ah, so the boy didn't need coaxing - he had it in him after all. Good for him, he thought.

"Well I'd much rather be back home where people gave a fuck." The apathy the boy was showing made him angry. In Matteo's world there were two actions, one being to kiss his ass and worship him - and the other to despise his guts with a passion and take it out with a fist fight. That's the way he did things. He didn't give a crap about the boy's alternative and coldly added, "And no."

He looked down at his shin and in detest remembered the girl that turned him down. "No women at least. I thought this place would be crawling with chicks eager to talk to the new boy." He paused. A little voice in his was telling him 'enough already' but he simply didn't know when to stop. "But apparently none of them appreciate what's right before them, if you know what I mean." He smirked and straightened his posture as if he was a peacock in a past life.

Despite his need to ramble about himself, he was a rather tidy person when it came to his personal space, and it bothered him that he hadn't unpacked and hung his clothes the second he got there. He finished the job of hanging and folding and added, "How about you? Or have you been kicking walls all morning?" He laughed a little and was starting to loosen up since his superiority complex was no longer sending off distress signals that the boy was better than him. He already felt superior in choosing to ignore the fact the boy apparently didn't give a fuck, which meant he didn't give a fuck about what he thought - but he chose to ignore it and pretend that the boy had given in. He was like a dog that he constantly needed to piss on something another dog had pissed on to mark territory. This school was now his territory and the intended to piss on everything in sight.

"So!" He exclaimed as he finished hanging his last shirt. "How about we head on down to the break room?" He tipped his head down casually as he added, "Random, I know but maybe we'll find someone worth talking to." He had to be an ass one last time to end his half of the conversation, otherwise he'd feel strange.

rocco adriano morelli · Subject: Re: Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ] April 14th 2009, 11:23 pm

Wow. So pasty face thinks he's Adonis on top of everything else.

Break room, meeting people. Right.

will

matteo armando ferelli · Subject: Re: Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ] April 14th 2009, 11:55 pm

He laughed a little to himself both nervously and in spite of himself. He wasn't sure what Rocco meant about finding someone worth talking to. The tone in his voice came across a little funny, but Matteo's brain refused to allow him to think too hard on it in case Rocco meant someone besides him. And besides, his mind was so focused on meeting a woman here that the only thing he truly picked up on was that there was an attractive librarian. To make himself more comfortable he rolled his dress shirt cuffs up his forearm and unbuttoned the top collar. Wasting no time he asked, "Oh yeah? How hot is she?" He winked his wink again almost as if to say 'hot hot is she on a scale of one to ten?'

Matteo is much like his father in more ways than just appearances. His father appreciates his mother, she does everything for them and is a perfect example of what a house wife should be, but she isn't the prettiest thing to look at. His father needs a little eye candy every now and then. Matteo's first conversation about sex was with his father at thirteen. He of course already knew about it, from his friends in school, but his father wanted to make sure he knew it from his perspective as well. His father told him everything a good father should about the hows tos and what nots about sex- except he left out the part about actually loving them. Hes grown to love his mother now, but at first the only reason they were together was because of Matteo. All throughout middle school he was the ugly duckling and had never had a girlfriend. By the time high school rolled around he had finally grown into himself and had almost laid every chick in his small town high school. His father was proud, he was happy, and he had no problem dealing with drama of some of the girls' boyfriends. In fact, he thrived off of it because they wanted him more than them and he always won in the fist fights. There was no stopping him.

His ego was so thick you could feel it every time he walked into a room. And now after high school it still hadn't worn off.

He was beginning to get very hungry now, and he could check out this librarian himself. He didn't need Rocco's description- what if he had shitty taste? The little voice inside himself laughed and said 'what would it matter? You'd do her ugly or not.' His internal thoughts showed on his face and he smiled at himself. Proud. He coughed and added "So anyways, how about some food." He motioned to the door and started walking there, more like leading the way. If Rocco wanted to come, great - and if not- he was hungry and really didn't give a damn to wait around for him.

rocco adriano morelli · Subject: Re: Omerta. [ rocco + matteo | open ] April 17th 2009, 6:28 pm

Moved to The Break Room!