The Family (IC)

[metalmaniac33]

Critics Are Raving Over Martin Scorsese's The Family;

"Provocative and well written...perhaps the blockbuster of the summer."-The New York Times
"Erotic, brutally violent, The Family is a bloody good time."-Quentin Tarantino
"Martin Scorsese has outdone himself yet again."-Joe Bob Briggs ​

This Film is Based On True Events, All of the Names of Members in the Cicco Family Have Been Kept the Same, but Out of Respect for the Dead and Survivors Other Names and Identities Have Been Changed and Modified for This Film

Aurora Marino
[IMG='width:168px;']https://im.rediff.com/movies/2015/feb/26monica-bellucci2.jpg[/IMG]​

June 16th, 2019
Vance King was officially out of jail, as of today. Anybody who worked for, or close to the Cicco family knew that a new era was about to begin in North Rustico. Stan King was getting too old to be managing his company -The King of Reno- and now that the prodigal son has returned from the inside. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt that Stan would be training Vance to take his place, meaning that soon enough Don Cicco would have a new capo-regime on his hands. As it stood, there were three main Capos running things in the municipality of Saanichton (which was right on the south edge of the island); Stan King, Stu Philips and his "accountant" Joey Marino, and the patriarch of the Marino household, Lorenzo. Don Cicco had influence all over the island, with roots in even major municipality. Even the smaller families feared him, to the point where they paid taxes in order to work and operate around North Rustico. Cicco was doing quite well for himself.
While the main branch of the Marino family business was focused around Lorenzo's drywall company, loving mother Aurora Marino still kept the family restaurant running with her youngest daughter, Alessa. The two of them didn't run any sort of drug smuggling operation, or employ hit-men or anything extreme like that. However, they did invest in a couple of televisions and sports channels, running some low profile betting out of the diner. No Marino was looking after the store today, however. It was family supper at the Marino household, and Aurora wanted to make sure that she had time to prepare the best meal possible for everyone. Long time business partner Stu Philips and Uncle Joey, who worked as his accountant, would be coming over for a business meeting, which followed a tradition to have a meal with the family during the meeting. It made things feel a bit lighter, and took away the harsh atmosphere behind the family business.
When Aurora cooked (even for every day meals) she didn't just make up one plate worth of food for each family member. She made up a feast which usually meant that the gentlemen has leftovers to bring to work for lunch. Chipping away at her plans to make a large supper, Aurora opened up the preheated oven before sliding in a glass tray of
Involtini di pesce spade, one of her personal favorites. Her creations were sweeping her away and gently placing her back in Sicily; Vinnie and Vittorio were still so small, baby Nicole was just starting to figure out how to walk, and Alessa was nothing more than a fetus just waiting to pop out of her womb. Now those were the days. Her husband, Lorenzo, didn't need to work nearly as hard back in the old country. Even uncle Joey seemed much happier back home. That was a long time ago, though.
Everyone had done so much growing since they moved to North Rustico. Lorenzo was like Robert De Niro in one of those gangster movies, and Aurora couldn't be more proud. All of her kids were following in his footsteps; even Alessa, the sweet baby of the family didn't play around when it came to her job at the restaurant. "Alessa," Aurora, or Aura for short, called out assuming her daughter was home. "I need you to come and cut some melanzana."

Nicole Marino
[IMG='width:172px;']https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DojROr4X4AAyXIV.jpg[/IMG]​

The Boston Bull, the only club in Saanich run by Don Cicco, the only club that catered to the rich, the only club that happily housed gangsters. It was Stu who came up with the idea to earn extra money by selling his dancer's bodies, abolishing any sense of "no touching" rules and enforcement. This was a neutral zone, a spot where gangsters could be gangsters and not defined by what family they were sworn into. Cicco even met with all five other Dons on the island to establish the Boston as a neutral zone. One of the main attractions was none other than Nicole Marino, with her pale, tattooed skin and curvaceous assets (not to mention her talented mouth), everyone paid top dollar for her. It looked even better on the Marinos considering her father was a capo.
Nicole had strict orders from Lorenzo to make sure that Stu and uncle Joey were going to make it to supper. Stu was he guest of honor, considering Lorenzo wanted to talk business with him. Nicole had to pick up this weeks paycheck, so she had to pay Stu a visit anyway. Despite not being open until 7PM, Nicole knew both men would be inside. Stepping out of her car, the twenty year old adjusted her tight, form fitting shorts before making her way to the back door. She shuffled through her purse and pulled out her key, smiling as she unlocked the door. It was fairly empty, save for a couple of girls who came by just to speak with each other. She found an envelope with her name on it, stuffed to the brim with bills. Nicole pursed her thick lips as she shoved the envelope into her purse, and tracked down Stu.
"Ma wants to know if you'll be making it for supper tonight." Nicole smiled as she finally found Stu. After a quick conversation with him, she made her way upstairs to uncle Joey's office, and luckily enough, he was there. Her crop top was an over the shoulder sort of top, with a mesh see-through flower pattern over her chest until where her bra line would be. She pulled the fabric down to show enough cleavage for Uncle Joey, and knocked on his open door. "You know that Ma thinks that it's a sin to work before a family supper."

 

[AndNich123]

Alessa Marino




Silence. It can be deafening. It can cause things to seem far more heavy than they actually are. Silence really isn't silence at all. It screams volumes. Most of the time people don't want to listen to it. That's why they drown it out with menial tasks and distractions. Such was not the case this day. Business was business and family was family. While Lessa didn't like to mix the two on certain occasions, she thought it was needed today.


"Yeah," she breathed into the phone, trying to keep her tone managed and the volume of her voice under a certain level. "He says can't pay. I have to respect that. I mean what more can I do? I have to wait until he can. Right?" A soft chuckle into the phone as her lips curled into a smirk. "No. Not him. Not her either." She breathed deeply into the phone, her eyes forward, as if fixed on something that wasn't there. "Her," she said, her voice making it clear what she meant. "He's in for 5 thousand. Restrain him with her bound as well. Have his wife there too restrained right beside him. Take the girl and hold her head under water until she's just on the brink of death. Pull her up, let her have the air she so desperately needs, and then plunge her head back in. Do this once for every thousand he owes. Then, when you're done and she's on the floor screaming, crying, begging for it to stop, tell him that maybe next time my guys forget how to tell time and leave her down for too long. Tell him maybe next time my guys go after his wife. Now he can pay up, or he can sign his little business over to me. It makes money. I'll take either one, but what I won't take are excuses. You make sure he's clear on that and then leave them. They can figure out how to get each other free."


A press of a button ended the call, and Lessa dropped her phone into her pocket. She brushed her hair back and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to stabilize her emotions. If there was one thing she didn't want, it was to go back into the same room as her mother with her being able to read it all over her face that she had been working. It was a gift in her eyes to be able to work with her mother at all. Lessa loved her mother, adored her even. To be like her would be….unimaginable. Sure there were other things she could do to earn a living, there were other things within the family she could do, and in fact there was a place she wanted to be, but there was something holding her back. Instead she nestled herself within the family in a place she felt loved and comfortable. Also it was pretty hard to deny the fact she had a talent for what she did.


Brisk steps carried back into the room with her mother, where she picked up a knife and reached for the melanzana. Inhaling deeply she smiled. "Smells great Madre. Always does." The blade sliced through, hitting the cutting board beneath, making a sharp thud. Her manicured fingers slipped back further as over and over the knife sliced through with ease. "So everybody is coming? Everybody," she asked, knowing the names she wanted to hear. Of course she dared not look at her mother. Lessa feared her face would show more than her voice let on. "Oh and please tell me there is no chocolate amaretti cake or tiramisu. Madre I told you I don't eat that stuff anymore. Makes me balloon out," she told her, laughing slightly before puffing her cheeks out.

 

[King James]

“Vance has got to be fuckin’ takin’ care of.” Muttered Lorenzo as he sat back in the chair at his desk, sitting in his office with his son Vinnie. His hands folded behind his head as he leaned back, kicking his feet up on the desk as Vinnie sat in front of him. Lorenzo has risen to greatness in North Rustico by swinging deals and making hits under the guise of his drywalling business. Now it was his son Vinnie’s turn to prove he was ready to take over.

“Pa, do we really need to deal with Vance? Or do we need to deal with Stan?” Vinnie responded as he leaned forward onto his father’s desk. “Think about it, Vance has a record, he’s been in for a few years. Easy target. All the knowledge, all the connections—those are with Stan. Old man, well-connected, difficult target.”

Lorenzo leaned forward in his chair, eyes lighting up and head nodding. “Vinnie, my boy, I’ve taught you well.” He said as he reached forward and patted his son’s shoulder. “I think you’re onto something. But we’ll talk more tonight. We’ve got to get home, Stu and Joey are coming over and your mother is prepping dinner. Come on, let’s go.”

Without any further hesitations the pair left the office, driving to the family home in Lorenzo’s prized Maserati. A few minutes later and they were walking through the door to a smell of the finest Italian cuisine. “Where’s my beautiful wife?!” Called out the patriarch of the family, eager for dinner and their meeting that night.

 

[Vytheril]

Joey Marino

Uncle Joey fingers battered and tapped into the surface of his keyboard, pursing his lips all the while doing so. He contemplated in his mind the calculations of last month's income and correlating that with this month's to add up the costs and the profit from Stu's business. He was a working man for the family, he'd put his children before anyone else to make sure that they were properly fed and clothed, that they'd never go hungry. If they didn't have the cash, he'd rob a truck. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty when the time came to it, but he was also wanting to play it smart, staying one step ahead.

The knocks coming from his door had his head perking up, the Brooklyn accent of the Italian filtering in as he replied to Nicole. "Ay'yeah hang on'a sec'." He says, moving to save and shut down the laptop with that being put aside. He'd pull open the drawer for a lock box, lifting it up from the lock and key he had looped around his neck, pulling out several hundred dollar bills and locking it back up. He'd come up to the door, swinging it open to find Nicole standing there waiting for him. His eyes instantly darted from her face down to her busty cleavage perfectly on display for him, causing a bit of excitement for him as he leaned against the threshold of the door, looking back at her with a mishcevious smirk.

"You're lookin' all pampered for tonight." He points out, still smiling as his right hand gestured up around his side a trio of hundreds neatly folded over one another, handling it out for her. "I figure you'd come to get a little somethin' for the weekend."

 

[BennyQ]

It was dinner time, day was changing to dusk, and Vittorio Marino lay in bed.

It wasn’t that he was slothful, a dullard who slept and did very little. Quite the opposite in fact. Inemuri the Japanese called it. Sleeping on the job, to improve work performance, for Vick had been working all last night. Earning, so that he could cement his place in the Family and finally earn his wings when the Books were opened again. A made guy. Was there any higher honour in cosa nostra? He had been up all night working a heist for the Don. Well not for the Don, but the Don still got a cut, and therefore it was legitimate. Last night, Vick and some friends of his had hijacked a truck far out of city. At gunpoint. Everything had gone without a hitch. The truck was stashed. In a week when it was less heaty, he would move the swag to a buyer. Life was good.

Like his sisters, Vick had the fortune of still being a “baby” around the family, simply on the distinction that he was not the oldest. He bunked at home in his momma’s house, came and went at all hours, and lived basically carefree. He worked no official job and signed on like a free agent to anything that was going on. Robberies, hits, stick ups, collections, all of it. He barely made it through high school, skipping class to engage in all sorts of criminal activity. At a young age, he had been the neighbourhood bike thief, switching up parts and eroding serial numbers to distract the cops, rebuilding the bikes from various others and pawning them off. In high school he pushed single cigarettes to all the other kids, illegally, already committing federal crimes before he reached adulthood.

Now he lay abed, sprawled out shirtless and without a care, his hair (his vanity) ruffled about his face. The curtains were low and the door opened only a creak, upon which a sheen of light shone clear through. He could hear his mother labouring about the kitchen and the smell of delicious cook wafted into his room. Still, it did not rouse him, despite the grumbling of his stomach. He had a late breakfast after the heist and slept right through lunch. That was hours ago.

He heard his sister, Alessa he guessed, talking in a soft voice to someone over the phone. Vick couldn’t make out the conversation. Business? Boyfriend? Now that would be interesting. He knew it wasn’t Nicole. When she was in the house, he could smell her a floor away, a mix of the scent of clubs, the odour of men’s cologne on her, as well as her own natural fragrance which was…sweetly aromatic in a way. It stirred something in Vick sometimes. His sweet little sister Nicole though was something else. He never did approve of her working in the club. He was old school like that and thought the same of his mother and Alessa. The wives and daughters of made men shouldn’t work, or why else were their menfolk working so hard to make that dollar if not to provide for their families? But these were decisions made higher up.

Next he had a vague thought on where father and Vinnie might be. Popping off on something interesting he figured, of which he missed out by sleeping in. It slipped his mind that Uncle Joey and the Don would be visiting. But like a diligent Sicilian mother, he knew moms would be on him in a second to come down and eat. And by god could she be loud! Vick rubbed his face into his pillow a moment, not wanting to depart, but better that than being called to dinner loudly like the whole neighbourhood could hear. So he finally roused him, in black sweats, pulling on a long sleeved sweater, though he left the buttons undone at the front as he slumped out of his childhood room and down the stairs into the kitchen.

“Evenin’” he greeted sleepily enough, sitting at the kitchen island on a stool, looking half assed with his ruffled hair and loose clothing. “What’cha making, ma?” A good Sicilian son ought to kiss his mother first, though technically it wasn’t morning (and yesterday morning was the last time he saw his ma, which wasn’t proper of a good Sicilian son to not check in for so long). Barely a second after he asked his ma what was cooking, he turned to Alessa. “Who you talking to on the phone?” He inquired curiously enough, though looked sleepy enough that he might not even heed the answer.

 

[WikkitJikkit]

" My mother. . . God rest her wicked, rotten, soul. . . Always told me... about this thing called. . . ' The Good Book' "

Some where in a room, deep behind various curtains, sound proof doors, sets of different security measures and a surprising amount of lubricant, leather and sweat of all sorts, there was a fully grown man, hanging horizontal, supported only by what god bestowed upon him between his legs.

The man strained heavily, trying to support his weight by reaching out with his hands and feet, just barely able to touch the floor for some kind of release from the agony, a black bag encased his head, making his already panicked breath all the more frantic. Two woman, a brunette in what could possibly pass as a incredibly under-dressed slutty nurse and a blonde in some sort of get up that definitely came from out of mad max having awful, sloppy, UGLY intercourse with a demonic power ranger, stood on either side of this desperate male. Each lovely lady waited next to a crank, which appeared to be linked to the device this unfortunate bastard found himself in. The soft burn at the end of a lit cigar came from some where off to the side, away from the lights and spectacle that was the main show.

". . . She would tell me the stories. . . tell me the virtues. . . tell me the passages..."

A weak whine slid out from the main attraction, his whole world disoriented by the angle, the tension and the voice. This voice managed to penetrate all that stress he was going through, made him listen, made him want to know what was being said. Both because it had a deep raspy rumble to it from too much booze, smoke and rage- and also because it meant he may survive this fucking mess. He muttered in his absolute desperation, tried to peace together some kind of pleading mercy. Then a strong smell of burnt tobacco, choked his labored breaths, tears stained the soaked bag as a vein threaded hand clutched his soaked head and lifted it upwards. There came a dark rich chuckle from on high, as the hand grabbed the hood, releasing it from the tormented males head, causing the man's neck to give away and the weight of the fall transferred to the main source of his hanging hell.

" But I was always fond of a separate aspect of all that religious mumbo jumbo shit... Sloth. . . Pride. . . Greed, Envy, Gluttony..... Wrath..... Lust." The figure exhaled a low growl of a sound. The women seemed to tremble, it being difficult to say from exactly what at that exact moment. That harsh burnt smoke smell managed to overcome all the shame and sex in the room, as if this person was slowly enveloping the entire area with just his presence.
" Because, ya see. . . we all got our vices. Our. . . weak points. We're all trying to get some where and fuck something, or kill another thing. . . just to get through it all. . . just to make it another fucking day. . ." The owner of that tongue and mouth smiled, and some how the three other people in the room knew. He casually moved over to the Heavy Metal Mistress, lifting a massive hand up and cupping her jaw like a bear lifting an apple. " . . . You did fine work today, Miss Bennatol. . . Expect a copy of the show real soon like. . . Your still living at home with your supreme court judge daddy, hm?" A pair of pretty sapphire eyes lit up, flashing upwards to the man, then over to the brunette, whose usually alluring light brown oculars held a state of suspended shock and disbelief. Then disgust, as she and the blond- her head free from that meaty grasp- looked to the tormented male, still fading in and out from the extended time in such a truly horrendous situation. The bar that was holding him gave way, his entire form crashing to the floor in a broken clump. A tattered moan escaped him as he finally succumbed to it all. The blond dominatrix shook, unable to look away at the pile of flesh. " Get one of the guys to take her back home safe and sound like, Jasper. After ya clean her up and get her proper clothed of course. . ."
The 'Nurse' scrambled over to the blond haired, leather clad statue, who was shaking her head slowly in complete terror. This Jasper cursed under her breath, grabbing the blond and rushing her out, shaking her luxurious head of dark brown hair. " Oh, and don't worry. We'll get dear ole dad up and at 'em quick as can be. . ." The heap of whimpering meat let out another moan, trying to regain some kind of senses. The speaker, chuckled once more, looking up into a camera, and winking.


________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Stu stopped the recording, nodding slowly before taking a generous sip of his Balvenie malt whisky, washing it down with a puff from a fresh Gurkha coffin stake. Hearing his office door shift, he switched to cable, Baseball, some recorded segment from the day before. It was always good to get a look at the odds before heading over to put some money down on the next game. At least that's what he'd tell Nicole, her sultry voice traveling into the room. He found a genuine smile come to his face. There was something about a well build woman in her prime that could easily melt peoples hearts and stimulate other parts so simply that just. . . well, made his life a whole lot more interesting.
" Wouldn't miss it for the world. . ."
After the short conversation with his real life MVP, Stu finished his poisons, readying for the day, and ultimately the very important meal and meeting to night.

 

[metalmaniac33]

Aurora Marino
[IMG='width:248px;']https://im.rediff.com/movies/2015/feb/26monica-bellucci2.jpg[/IMG]​

"Stu, your father, his brother, everyone will be there," Aurora smiled as her daughter came downstairs as requested. She was always the easiest to get along with, even through her rebellious teenage years. There was no favourites in the Marino family, Aurora loved all of her children equally. Sometimes she felt like that love wasn't returned to her. When she didn't take her meds, that's usually Aurora took her blessings for granted. "Alessa, mio caro!" Aurora exclaimed, whacking her daughter lightly in the arm with a warm oven mitt. "You eat all the sugar you want," she stated as she noticed the dutch oven pot on the stove began to smoke. "You are perfect the way you are, il mio amore, sometimes we all have to puff out in order to enjoy a meal properly. Your sister apparently never got that memo, she puffed up at the worst spots." Aurora laughed, holding her hands over her chest.

The loving mother went into the fridge, pulling out a tray she had prepared of veal shanks, secured with twine, sprinkled with salt, pepper and dredged in flour. One by one, she added the shanks into the large pot of smoking vegetable oil. "Either way, no tiramisu or amaretti cake. You know how your father feels about tiramisu. Instead I made bombolone and crostota. The bombolone isn't for tonight though, it's just for us." After each side had browned, Aurora put the shanks to the side, on a plate before adding diced onions, carrots and celery to the same pot. At that moment, she heard the door open, and her husband's voice ring out.

"Mio amore!" She called out, a mixture of her antidepressants and the throwback to the smells of Italy bringing out a sense of childish affection. "Alessa, can you quickly add the veal back into the pot and stir in some tomato paste?" That woman was always planning things out a mile a minute, always thinking about what must get done next. She hurried over to her husband, greeting him with a great big kiss, and giving Vinnie a kiss to the cheek. "I thought you forgot about dinner!" She said, her face playfully going stern. "You better not have been working, you know that there is no working before a family dinner!"

Nicole Marino
[IMG='width:297px;']https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DojROr4X4AAyXIV.jpg[/IMG]​

"Good, don't want my favourite person in the whole world to miss out." Nicole winked, blowing a kiss to Stu before she turned away from him. The club was a pretty decent size, rather large with plenty of rooms for both VIPs, and rooms for specific cappos and their crews. The largest of the bunch had the most work done on it; The King Loungue. Obviously it was for anyone employed under Stan King, it almost upset Nicole to think about how there was a lack in size and dedication to the room for her family.

"I wanted to get a new dress for dinner tonight," Nicole said as she saw Uncle Joey handing her the money. She happily accepted the cash, and plopped it into her suddenly heavy purse. "Mom told me to tell you, word for word, to get your ass to dinner tonight." She leaned forward to her uncle, her breasts hovering over his chest. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, lightly sliding the stud of her tongue ring against his jaw. "I'll see you soon, di bell'aspetto." Turning away, Nicole made her way down the stairs and to the parking lot.

Nicole found her car, sliding into the driver's seat. She rolled all of the windows down, and pulled out a package of cigarettes. She knew how much her parents hated her smoking, and how it hurt her image, but it had become a bit of a habit. The last time she had a boyfriend, he had gotten her into it, and it seemed that she just never managed to stop.

 

[Vytheril]

Joey had his right hand lifted defensively at the mention of her Mom's message. "Oddio, can't even write a few papers. She rushes everything." His voice sounding playful and jokingly, adding to that with a smirk forming on his lips. He had no objection to refuse her kiss when she leaned forward, making a couple of glances down to her bountiful bust nearing his chest. "Bu-bye, bellissima." He'd watch as she retreated back down the stairs, giving it a few minutes before he followed down a level.

"Hey-hey, famiglia! Why's mia fratello got Aurora doing all the work? He's actin' like he never made meatballs before!" His joking persona and relaxed mood obviously meaning it'd been a good month from the profits earned. He worked his way around the kitchen to flank Aurora's side, but not before calling out to give a brief greeting to Vittorio. "Heh-ey', you're shrinkin' dude, what's up?" His head turned back over to the pot of delicious-ness being cooked before his very eyes by the professional Aurora. "Oh, you work too hard. If I hadn't been upstairs, y'know I'd be helpin' you make an appetizer or somethin'."

 

[AndNich123]

She narrowed her eyes slightly as she gazed at him. It was clear from the look on his face that he most likely wouldn't remember her answer, even if he heard her. His question was more of a proper pleasantry. She could have fun with this. Indeed. Leaning forward on the counter, closer to him, a sly smile on her lips she whispered, "Honestly? Do you really wanna know?" A pause, as if she were truly waiting for a reply. "It's truly none, okay none, are you with me, none of your business." The last word she yelled before pulling away and playfully whacking him on the back of the head. "You look like you just rolled out of bed, and you gonna stand there and question me? What's the matter with you? Where you been? More to the point, who you been with? See? I can ask questions too." The smile had grown on her lips. Playing around with him was fun, and much like the know sister stereotypes, she loved to tease him. "Just make sure you wrap your salami there alright. Don't want any little ones running around."

She mad her way around the island, coming to rest behind him. Her hands taking his shoulders and rubbing them, working his muscles. The bustle of people had been swept under the rug before, blinded by his question. His question alone was one that could have landed her in hot water. Working? On the day of a family dinner? Her mother certainly would not approve, at least that was her fear. Then there was him. Her fingers began to work his muscles harder. "Your tight you know. Wait. I'll bet you say that to all the girls," she teased. "What have you been up to. No pun intended." Her eyes continued to scan the room as she listened. She couldn't stop the one question burning through her mind. 'Where is he?'

"Yeah," she called out, forgetting her manners and her place as she was snapped from her own thoughts by her mother's voice. "I can add....the veal," she said, feeling that even the words must sound somehow bad coming from her lips. Her fingers released him and gave him a playful pat on the back before heading over to the bubbling, smoldering stove. It was so busy, so alive with activity, and now she was a part of it, as if she were some subservient woman back in time, meant only to cook and clean. She thought of her mother than that, but her mind couldn't help loathe the concept of women being regarded in that manner. She was a woman. She owned that fact, but there was so much more to her than cooking and cleaning, at least she wanted there to be.