The Don’s View from “Acceptable Terms”

Notes by Logan; Illustration by Game Master Virtuoso

Location: Armandasanti Family Grave Site

Time: Slightly past Midnight

Date: Sometime in the Future

- - -

The Mafia Godfather paused in his deliberations. The rushing tide of emotional memories festering within the still ‘heart’ he bore. Could a creature such as himself, as he was when he was in that hospital, truly ever have loved? At the time, he believed so. Yet now it seems like such a distant memory for him. An era bygone that wrote bittersweet upon his mind. A brand of what was and what could be.

“When I woke up...you know, after the operation, Mama was there. You remember that, right Ma? Yeah, you were so worried I thought you might break the stitches. Lemme tell ya, wakin’ up from restin’ under that uh...medical thing? That was rough. I felt like I couldn’t get a handle on what the hell I was doin’ or where I was at.”

A flash of lightning in his mind drove him to recoil back in his chair as though physically struck. The memory that was dredged up from the sea of time was one heavier than he remembered it to be. His shoulders fell and his face dropped sullen with a hint of despair.

“I asked after the kid, you know? They told me that he wanted to meet with him. I tell ya, my heart never beat so damn fast in my chest. When they took me to the visitation room I thought the world could feel how nervous I was. I told Alice I’d be cool about the thing but the truth is I was stressed out. What was I going to say? What was I going to do? What was the kid like? A million questions ran through my man like a bullet. Before I knew it, he was right there in front of me.”

Vito stood, pacing nervously in front of his family crypt stones. A hand ran through his hair almost trembling as it did so. He stopped to look at his quivering palm. Was this Humanity he was feeling? The rush of emotions from memories so tender he almost dared not touch their purity? Moving his palm away from his hand in vile disgust, he spoke aloud during his pacing.

“When I tell ya the kid was a spitting image of what a child of mine would look like...this kid had it goin’ for him. He was smart, played sports, got along well and didn’t cause no trouble. At first I wondered if it could really be my kid, you know? But then he told me, like, he wanted to say thank you because it was the honorable thing to do. I knew then that this kid was mine. Matthew is his name. Not what I would have picked but he was somethin’ else. Somethin’ pure. I knew right then I’d do anything to protect him.”

The wind blazed past him in the form of calming winds, reminding Vito to maintain control of his heart lest the Beast rise from the depths. Taking a seat once more and lighting a cigar, he blew the sickly sweet scent in to the air.

“Yanno, he asked me to hang out with him after. I said it would be great, but only if ya Mother thinks it’s good. Poor kid was so tired he passed out after that. I got wheeled back in to my room. The Doc came to check on me. Said it was all clear and I could go home but I had to make some changes to my lifestyle. It wasn’t going to be easy but hell, seein’ that kid light up was worth it. After all that, I went home and did some serious resting. I made a couple of calls and made sure business was movin’ in the right direction. You know, all that sorta business.”

Taking a deep, but entirely unnecessary breath, he hitched on the next words. He remembered this event as though it was yesterday. What came next was truly the beginning of his new unlife. 

“I got a card from someone wanting to meet at the Pendentist Club. You’ve been gone awhile Pop so I wouldn’t expect you to know the place but I know you knew the guy but it’s a pretty up there kind of place. Only the biggest of the big ever go there and I got an invite. Mr. Barnaby Wilcox was the one that sent the invite and it didn’t seem like the kind of opportunity I wanted to pass up, you know? I rested up for a few days and I went.”

“Now…” He said, taking the cigar from his mouth and looking it over as though trying to distract the thoughts from rising within his mind. “When I tell you this place is intimidating, I mean it. It looked far too perfect to be real and something about it gave me the chills. Of course, I’ve never been here, how the fuck should I know how to open the door or call for it? Gah!” 

A rare moment, he threw his hands up in frustration getting out of his chair and kicking it over. Embarrassed of his own failures from times since passed. Slowly bringing the wooden device back to it’s normal position, he sat upon it.

“Eventually...after much trial and tribulation, I found my way inside. I was asked my name and was told Barnaby was waiting for me. Couple of people offered me some drinks but I didn’t want to offend my host by not taking the drink they offered, you know? Figured I should be on my best side. Maybe I could make a deal of this, you know? What followed next was the meetin’ of my lifetime, I tell ya.”

“So, picture this right? I’m in this room. Freshly shaved, best suit, smelling good and feeling great. I had no clue what this man was about but he didn’t make me wait long. He told me he was someone that came from a special place, right? I thought he was like every other politician I dealt with. Thought they were King of the world or somethin’ like that. How they ruled the world and the little guy was just the sheep. Only in this case, I really fuckin’ believed him. He sounded so much more than just some stuffy white dude, you know?”

Vito took a minute to let the gravity in the room settled as he tried to make sense of his first meeting with Barnaby. The information given or rather the lack there of. It was hard to make sense of what could have happened and what actually happened when your mind couldn’t even be trusted anymore. That was the truest fear Vito had ever truly known. The fear of being weak.

“He started talkin’ to me about how he knew who I was and how he knew you, Pop, and he was glad I got some time with my Son. Imagine my surprise then when he said we had this sort of conversation before. That I begged him to let my Son live and to get the operation done. That he had some sort of power over the mind. I didn’t believe it until...he showed me. I’ve never been more humiliated in my life but something told me I couldn’t fight back even if I wanted to.”

Disgusted with himself, he threw the cigar to the side and slumped in his chair slightly more, lay back against the wood as it creaked to support him entirely. His eyes flashed with emotion but it was dashed quickly in an effort to restrain his base instincts. The rage that boiled in his blood only cooled on remembrance of what came after.

“He told me he wanted to help with the Russian problem, said he knew some things but that I’d have to keep really tight lipped about what he was telling me. I told him I could handle it, that I wasn’t a snitch. What he proceeded to tell me sounded like it was straight out of a fairytale. I had to wear sunglasses and not let this Russian see my eyes. Said he could do the same thing Barnaby could with the mind control thing. At this point, my mind was reelin’ but he wasn’t done. Told me if I did this and I wanted in on being a true King, to meet him again in one months time with all of my affairs in order so I didn’t have to do it durin’ the day.”

How could he even explain this? There was no good way to say what he was saying and no good explanation that didn’t break the rules.

“I can’t tell ya more than that, people might be watchin’ me. Anyway…” As though he were talking to the flesh and blood of his family, he knew his attempt to switch the subject was moot considering their state.

“I went home from the Pendentist Club and painted again. My Son this time, as I remembered him. An it was...so good. I keep it always as a memory of that one perfect time. I went to bed that Monday knowing I had to face my fears on Tuesday. Barnaby said that this Russian guy, this uh Nikoli, was like he was but from another family and that he was crazy dangerous. So I called up the boys, got some heavy hitters ready and went to sleep.”

“That next night, lemme tell you, was no joke. All my boys wearin’ sunglasses with guns and that big Russian sittin’ in the center. Barnaby told me, ‘when he starts speaking and you feel yourself getting thrown off track, turn the conversation back to the docks’. I did just that. I sat down, asked him if we could do this civilly but he really wanted control of the docks and the shipping lanes. I gave him something Barnaby gave me and I thought that was it for sure. He looked so angry I thought he was going to try and kill me, you know? But he just...let me go.”

There was a look in Vito’s eyes that could have been considered relief if he could reflect such things anymore. The soul of his being was so corrupt he doubted he could even feel fear the same way. Not as his human self might. Not as his new fiendish self would.

“Then began my new job. Gettin’ everything ready. Whatever power Barnaby or Nikoli had, I wanted it badly. I wanted to feel the same way, like the lord over the sheep. It may have been what damned me but I wasn’t going to die a nobody. I called in Paulie and got to work teaching him how to be an Underboss for the Family. I told Folliard that he was taking over the day time operations as CEO. Then came the hardest part…”

“Look…” Vito stood, moving over to sit in front of his Father’s grave and placed a hand on it. “I took some time and went to go and see my kid. He asked if we could go see a baseball game so you know we went and got the best box seats I could. He was having so much fun it was like I was him living through it. It was...amazing in every sense of the word. I told him the truth, I had to. I told him I was a bad man, I did horrible things but I’d give it all away to like him. That I was proud of him and I loved who he was becoming. The man he was becoming.”

A single stain ran along his features. It blurred his eye and caused his mind to cease. A sanguine tear rolled down his pale cheek and dripped off on to the ground below. A surge of emotions that broke the barrier of the stoic male with a resounding splash of successful tear fall. Taking out a napkin, he wiped and cleaned himself up, walking away from his father’s crypt.

“Anyway...that month went by without too much trouble. Other than handling some drunk guy beating his girl. Don’t worry Ma, took care of that no problem. Barnaby sent the message to meet up again through Maranda Logue. It was a penthouse in a part of town I never went to. Seemed like I was learning a lot these days er...rather nights.”

The memory came to him, fresh as it was the night of his death. The 3rd of July. The day before liberation would become something important to him as it was his own liberation that he received as well.

“It was like you’d imagine. Big building, really nice place and that fuckin’ weird elevator with the magic mirror and lightshow. I got to the top and Miranda told me to follow as we met up with Barnaby again. We spent some time on pleasantries and the like before movin’ over to a drawin’ room. It was filled with sinks, a bed wrapped in vinyl and the floor was mostly covered and protected. I didn’t know what for at the time but I was glad he did.”

An image flashed in his mind’s eye. The wood of the room, the coverings. The detail that was lost on him in the moments of rushing heart. How could he be expected to remember? He couldn’t hold himself to that. He was there that night to make a choice. It just so happened that the choice happened in a lovely place.

“He asked me the same question again. If I was willing to travel the side of death and become a Master of the Night. To cast off the skin of a mortal and become something more. A Ventrue he called it. I didn’t know what it meant but...it was...something. I told him I was ready, and I was wrong. Imagine if you can, the feeling of dying but not yet gone. You’re a floating piece of yourself and you get to choose to come back or to leave. I refused to leave myself dead. I came back. I chose to live.”

He remembered his time as a soul, as brief as it was. It was truly a freedom that he’d never know again. There was no pain, no decay. Only light. He would often dream about it when he could. He often thought, perhaps, that’s what heaven would feel like. Just finally being at peace. If such a thing existed.

“Of course, he told me he was leaving and I had to deal with the after effect but that he would be back the next night. I won’t sugar coat it. I went through fuckin’ hell that night. I lost everything that ever made me human. Blood and bits of organs came flying from me, every part of me felt like I was dying. I hated it. I hated feeling so weak and so pathetic. It was the last time I’d ever feel that way. I passed out in the bed, covered in my own vile bile, it was disgusting.”

Of course, Vito new he couldn’t tell them everything. There was bound to be something or someone watching. He didn’t care, this information was all so old it wouldn’t do any good to anyone. Not anymore.

“When I awoke next, I truly felt alive. I was still naked and coated in stuff I’d rather never have seen. It wasn’t the end of the world, rather I never felt better. I took sometime to find the shower and clean myself. Surprising to me, there wasn’t anything wrong with my hair or beard. Oh yeah, I grew a beard Ma. I know you hated it but listen, I wasn’t always going to know when a beard might be in culture fashion or not. Better to be prepared in the unlife, right?”

Smiling to himself, he pictured how his mother might have reacted. ‘Oh my beautiful boy! Why do you hide your face?!’ she’d probably wail out in to the night air. It brought only the smallest of joy to him and some measure of true peace.

“Well, I cleaned myself and then took to the blood bags Barnaby showed me before he left. I just dug in and drank and it was absolutely amazing. I should have been disgusted right? I mean, it was fuckin’ blood, right? It didn’t. It was the best thing I’ve ever had. It was so sweet and so filling. I could have been lost in it forever. Sadly, I eat like a fuckin’ pig and had to get cleaned up again. But I got a suit on and Maranda came to get me. Mr. Wilcox asked if I played chess and we did a move or two before he said we had some training or learnin’ to do. Somethin’ like that but that the World was mine…”

“And I was going to claim it. We left that night, the night of Independence, and my new life as Vitus, He who Lives, began…”