Quantcast

Jump to content

» «
Photo

Made in Alderney

25 replies to this topic
SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#1

Posted 19 January 2012 - 04:09 AM Edited by SIKKS66, 11 February 2012 - 10:59 PM.

user posted image

Familiar faces from Grand Theft Auto IV join a cast of new characters in this epic new fan fiction by SIKKS66. Made in Alderney is a retelling of the final days of the Pegorino family from the perspective of a brand new character, Richard "Dicky" Gattuso, a middle-aged mob captain controlling the northern arm of the Alderney crime family. His boss, Jimmy Pegorino, is planning on expanding his operations across the river, to become a legitimate member of the Mafia commission in Liberty City, whatever the cost may be.

As Dicky struggles to balance his home and business lives, the world of organised crime in Alderney is about to be irreparably damaged. Will anybody make it out alive?


----------------------------------------------------------

Prologue

Little Empires, Little Problems


As he stepped from his car, the morning air felt cool on Dicky’s face. Seagull’s squawked overhead as the waves from the sea crashed upon the shore nearby. The sky was blue and the sun was high above him but small grey clouds loomed ominously above. Pulling off his black, leather jacket and throwing it onto the backseat of his car, Dicky slammed the door shut.

At the sound, one of his two lieutenants emerged from the abandoned casino. Marco was a reliable man. He refused to drop the questionable facial hair and purple shirts but he was a man Dicky could rely upon dearly. As he approached the casino door, Marco held out a hand. “Good morning, boss,” he said, tightly gripping Dicky’s hand, “how are you, sir?”
“It’s a good day, Marco my friend,” Dicky replied, reaching his other arm around in an embrace. Marco returned the gesture before leading his caporegime into the building. “How is the wife?”
“Glowing. Any day now, skip.” Marco replied smiling. Dicky smiled too. The pair had been trying for years, he knew, with no luck. When Marco had announced that they were finally expecting, the whole family was elated. They’d celebrated with a five course meal with everyone’s wives over at Ray’s restaurant, followed by a weekend in Venturas with the crew. It was a great time. Photos of both parties still adorned the walls of Drusilla’s: the boys in Venturas at the tables, all dressed in immaculate suits and tuxedos, the wives in the restaurant holding up glasses of wine with their husbands. Even Jimmy Pegorino was smiling. That seemed a lifetime ago.

But this morning was not about Jimmy Pegorino. This morning was about Dicky, about settling old business. Back in 1995, two years after he’d been made by Pegorino’s old man, Dicky had been pulled over while carrying a van load of firearms. He figured he’d run a red or a stop sign- he reckoned he’d be able to bullsh*t his way out of it or take the ticket and drive off- but someone had tipped these cops off. Before he even realised, the whole street was swarming with cops: cruisers, guys in armor, SWAT vans. Seemingly, the whole LCPD was out to pinch Dicky that evening. A week later he was put in front of judge and sentenced to ten years. Just like that.

It turned out that Dicky’s old childhood friend Christopher Pistone had flipped. The pair had embarked on their life of crime together after dropping out of school, stealing and beating for young Pegorino soldier Ray Boccino from his base of operations in northern Alderney. When the time came for the pair to “make their bones”, they were both dispatched to execute a Gambetti informer. Yet when the family books finally opened, Chris had been passed over in favour of Dicky; according to old man Pegorino, Dicky was tougher, more reliable and by far the better earner. Upon learning he would probably never be made, Chris fell into drugs and petty theft. Before long the feds were sniffing around ready to catch him on the smallest charge, hoping to threaten him into ratting on his old friends. Finally they caught him with a questionable amount of cocaine in his possession. In exchange for getting Pegorino upstart Richard “Dicky” Gattuso and captain Tony Casso incarcerated for ten and fifty years respectively, Chris was offered the chance of a new life by the government.

Prison wasn’t so hard for Dicky. The guys who ran the place- the guys in the yard, not the screws in their watchtowers- were all well connected to the five families and took their fellow made man under their wing. Sharing their influence, he got himself onto all the work forces he could, into the good books with the warden and the state. He even got himself a job teaching an art class; Dicky had always been good with his hands. Seven years into his sentence he was put up in front of a parole board; he was released three years early on probation, promising to find legitimate work back in Alderney.

A lot had changed in the intermittent years. Old man Pegorino had passed away, leaving his organization in the hands of his volatile son and underboss, Jimmy. The old man’s consigliere, Alfie Barone, didn’t live much longer either after being diagnosed with liver cancer. In his place, Jimmy had placed his old friend Phil Bell in as consigliere and “family lieutenant”. Having to report to and do the bidding of an Irishman caused a few initial problems but amiable nature soon won him many friends, including the fiercely untrusting Ray Boccino. Jimmy and Phil together took southern Alderney- with many whorehouses, gambling dens and shylocks within its docklands and suburbs- under their protection. Ray (promoted to acting captain after the incarceration of Tony Casso) was tasked with controlling the protection rackets in the north of Alderney from his headquarters in Westdyke Autos. This small empire had thrived, with the family’s “big three” chiefs ruling Alderney with an iron fist. But with the uncontrollable ambition of Jimmy Pegorino, this was never going to be enough.

In 2002, Dicky was released from prison. He remained true to his promise, acquiring work as a salesman at Westdyke Autos. As far as the authorities knew or cared, Dicky was now a functioning and legitimate member of society. In truth, Dicky was now Ray’s chief lieutenant, assisting his caporegime by handing out orders to the crew from their office in the back of the dealership. It was the worst kept secret in the family that Dicky was being groomed as Boccino’s replacement as Jimmy prepared for his “great expansion” of 2003. A year after coming out of prison, Dicky was promoted to acting captain of northern Alderney. Ray was tasked with spreading Pegorino fingers onto the mainland, creating a base of operations in Little Italy: a little “family-run” bistro called Drusilla’s. Ray would become immeasurably richer than Dicky, in essence becoming family underboss and Jimmy’s right arm, but nobody else in the family had a machine running as efficient as the northern Alderney crew. The two lieutenants that Dicky had personally made upon being made capo became his eyes and ears on the streets and together, the three of them ran the protection, drug, prostitution and auto-theft rackets with an iron fist of their own. So much so that Marco had dubbed his captain in one drunken, early-morning exchange the “Lord of Westdyke Autos”. For the first time in his life, Dicky was truly content, except for one, nagging annoyance in the back of his mind; a problem that at long last he could finally resolve.

In the early hours of the morning the abandoned casino was relatively deserted. The few bums who lurked around had been swiftly moved on by Dicky’s men. Inside, a small flight of stairs led to an old office room where the casino manager had once looked over his own, little empire. The door was open and coming from inside was the muffled grunt of a man being beaten severely. Dicky furrowed his brow and rolled up the sleeves on his dark brown shirt.
Walking into the room, Dicky greeted his second lieutenant with a pat on the back. “You left anything for me, kid?” Pete turned and welcomed his captain with a curt nod of the head. He was the very definition of “muscle”- a man who loved nothing more than a brawl- but Dicky had always seen more in him than that. Always cracking wise, “Big” Pete Marchetti grew up in the same neighbourhood as Dicky and had very much looked up to his captain from the day they met. When Dicky got his button, he took Pete under his wing and gave him all kind of low-level (though high paying) work. While he was locked up, Dicky had tasked Pete with the responsibility of running his interests on the outside, a task he had done brilliantly. He had also taken care of Dicky’s elderly mother, a kindness that Dicky would never forget. “No boss, just been warming him up for you!” he laughed walking over to a sink in the corner of the room. He cleaned his hands, pulled on a jacket over his bloody shirt and took his place by the door alongside Marco.

“Boys,” Dicky said, holding a hand in the air, “leave us alone. Go keep a look out.” The two soldati did as they were told and left the casino for a smoke. Dicky pulled up a chair in front of his prone, old friend whose mouth was bound with tape. Dicky ripped it off, recoiling somewhat as Chris spat out two broken teeth.

They’d found him living rough in Los Santos. Having been dropped from the witness protection program sometime during 2005, Chris had been running with low level gangs in Venturas. Small-time crimes: robbing stores, selling pot, stealing cars. It was enough for him to be finally noticed by family associates they had over on the strip. The first attempt at grabbing him had failed; the order was to take him alive but he proved to be too slippery for the men they had over there. Jimmy was pissed that Dicky just didn’t have him whacked but this was a job that Dicky always wanted to do with his own hands; despite countless requests from his boss and consigliere, he was unremitting in his resolve to do it his way. Yet after losing him in Ventuas, Dicky figured they’d lost him for good. Howver, Chris seemingly hadn’t learned his lesson; he was again spotted pulling similar stunts in Los Santos seven months earlier. This time he took no chances, sending Pete down to personally oversee his capture. His lieutenant had found Chris passed out drunk under a bridge and managed to subdue him with little effort. One, long road-trip later, here he sat face-to-face with the man he f*cked over.

“You don’t look so good, Chris. And I’m not just talking about the face.” Dicky pointed at the man’s garb. Along with dirty white trainers and slacks to match, Chris was wearing a bright pink Aloha shirt. A thick, gaudy (probably fake) gold chain hung from his neck and his beard was thick, long and greying. “What, did you get dressed in the eighties?”
“Prison didn’t change your sense of humour much, I see” Chris retorted with the smallest of smiles.
“It did not, no” Dicky replied, “but other things changed the day you sent me down.”
The pair stared at each other for several minutes. Dicky said nothing but only nodded his head slowly. Suddenly, Chris began to weep.
“Stop that,” Dicky barked, angered. “What the f*ck is the matter with you? You knew this was going to happen eventually, Christopher. I gave you thirteen f*cking years to do something with your life and maybe make yourself disappear. I pitied what you had became- all the f*cking drugs, the stumbling out of nightclubs- but I promised to myself I’d end you if given the opportunity. You were given a chance to make something of yourself, Chris, and you f*cking blew it!”
“I know!” Chris roared back through broken, bloody lips. “I tried to get myself good, I did. I went to those f*cking meetings to piss and cry and whimper to a bunch of other useless f*cks. But it doesn’t put money in your pocket, does it Rich?”
Dicky shrugged nonchalantly. He didn’t show it, but he was somewhat taken aback by Chris using another old nickname. Suddenly he was young again. “You should have taken your chance at redemption, Chris. There’s nothing I can do. This isn’t entirely personal, you know. You sent down a serving Pegorino capo too, a man still in the joint as we speak. There’s been a contract out on you for years but it seems you’re too f*cking stupid to keep a low profile. Well now the time has come for you to pay for your betrayal, Chris. I’m sorry.” Dicky stood from his chair and nodded solemnly at his former friend.
“Come on, Dick, for old time’s sake,” Chris pleaded, grabbing his former friend’s shins. Dicky kicked him away, hard in the chest.
“Get your f*cking hands off me.” Suddenly he felt himself well up. Tears formed up in the corner of his eyes. No, I cannot show weakness here. Chris deserves to die at the hand of a Mafiosi seeking revenge. Not a reluctant fool weeping for his friend. Dicky crossed the room. On a table, Pete had left a baseball bat, steel and strong. Besides it, a dead rat lay with its head twisted almost completely around. Dicky lifted the bat in one strong hand, holding the other end of the bat in his other, open palm.
“For betraying me and the Pegorino family, you will die here this morning. Because you were my friend and I loved you, I will make this quick.”
Chris whimpered at first, his broken hands tucked between his legs. As Dicky crossed the room once more, Chris began to weep aloud, staring at his old friend through red, milky eyes. At the last moment, a scream escaped from within his mouth; a moment later his jaw was cracked in half. Four strong beats to the chest- each crunching hard, blood exploding from the dying mans mouth- and one two handed swing to the skull later, Chris was dead.

Throwing the bat against the wall in anger, Dicky called out for Marco and Pete. Together, as the lightest of an early morning drizzle began to echo on the roof above them, the three heaved the lifeless body down the stairs, out the door and into an empty dumpster. Marco applied the finishing touches, forcing the dead rat deep down into Christopher’s bloody throat. The three stared at him momentarily- Marco cursing under his breath, Pete snarling and shaking his head- before realising the sun was rising higher; the faint sound of cars on the roads above became momentarily worrying. It was time to leave.

Without speaking, the three climbed into Dicky’s car. “Don’t ruin the leather,” Dicky half-joked as a somewhat bloodstained Pete climbed into the back of his car, attempting to break the awkward silence. Chris had been a good friend of the pair at one point back in the day, Dicky knew, and his death had clearly affected them as much as it did him. Dicky decided the three deserved a night out. “I think we’ve earned a night out, what do you say? In the city? We can get ourselves into a poker game and maybe see a fight or two in that dodgy backstreet place up north.”
“We can’t, Dick. Jimmy wants us over to his place first thing in the morning.” Pete replied grimly.
“Jimmy? Why?” Dicky stared at Pete in the back seat through his mirror. What is he planning now?
“He didn’t say. All he said was he needed back-up. Said he was taking some new muscle out on an important job and wanted some of the family there for insurance.” This worried and annoyed Dicky in equal measure. Jimmy’s scheming of late was becoming more and more dangerous.
“Why can’t he take Corrado? Why is he taking my men? And why the f*ck didn’t you two tell me earlier?”
“He said Corrado is going to be elsewhere,” Marco interjected “says he wants us. Can’t exactly refuse him can we, skip? We didn’t get chance to tell you this morning, what with what had to be done.”
“I’m sure it will be simple enough after that last piece of work, Dick.” Pete said, hoping to finish the discussion. Dicky was unconvinced.
“Nothing is f*cking simple with Jimmy lately. Listen, you guys call me and tell me what went down as soon as you get back, you understand? Immediately.”
His two lieutenants nodded and remained silent for the rest of the journey. Finally arriving back at Westdyke Autos, the three exited the car. Without saying a word they entered the dealership and made their way towards the back office, past their rows and rows of for-sale motorbikes. The store’s front manager- a wiry, nervous middle-aged man named Aldo- gave them a concerned look, staring apprehensively at the blooded Pete before finally nodding a relaxed welcome. In the office, Pete and Marco took their familiar seats in front of a large television and Dicky his behind his, large wooden desk.
“You guys not going home? You could use a wash, Pete” Dicky grinned, bundling a fistful of dollars from an envelope on his desk into his breast pocket.
“I want to catch the end of this game,” Marco replied, “I had to pause it when you gave me the call.” Dicky laughed and peered over to see what he was watching. Baseball. Dicky hated baseball.
“I don’t think I should be walking around outside like this,” Pete said, pointing to the sticky patches of blood on his arms and his shirt. “I’m going to use the staff shower in a bit.” Dicky nodded in agreement. He had forgotten about the “real” staff room across the building. Pete disappeared soon after, shouting his goodbyes before leaving the building clean. Dicky spent an hour or so emptying envelopes and signing paperwork for the dealership before finally deciding to head home.
“Well Marco, it’s been f*cking awful. But now I have an even harder job at hand,” Dicky announced, rising to his feet. His lieutenant looked at him suspiciously. “I’ve got to take my daughter shoe shopping,” he smiled, making his way towards the door. Marco, lying on the couch alone, laughed and waved the slightest of waves before returning to the television. Stepping out of the dealership and into the early morning sun, the trickles of rain falling from the sky belied the warmth that Dicky felt on his face. That’s one black cloud gone from my sky, Dicky thought, but I can’t help but feel there’s more on the horizon.

-----



A follow-up chapter depends on interest and how well received this fanfic is. Any thoughts, suggestions or corrections (grammar, presentation or plot) would be appreciated.

Thanks to UNRATED69 for the logos and graphics icon14.gif

ryuclan
  • ryuclan

    Maybe I'll Stay awhile

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 10 Apr 2007

#2

Posted 19 January 2012 - 04:53 AM

Honestly, I liked it and I would like to read more. I would point out some grammatical and spelling errors but I'd rather just give you my own personal critique.

The set up was really good and you had a nice flow going there. You were very descriptive and it made me want to keep reading. It was understood the reasons for the betrayal but I would like to read a little more back story regarding the relationship between dicky, chris and the other guy who's name I can't recall at the moment. There are two things though that kind of nagged at me while I was reading.


1.The name "Dicky" is a very odd choice in my opinion. It doesn't really roll off the tongue too well (Hiyooo!) but seriously I couldn't help thinking about how annoying it is to see that name so often. It's a personal opinion but for a main character I don't like the name.

2. He tells Chris he'll make his death fast, but hits him in the chest with the bat like six times before delivering the final blow. If I were to describe something like this I would probably talk about how Chris raised his arm in an effort to block the oncoming blows, resulting in his arm breaking before a couple whacks to the head takes him out for good. I just can't see someone hitting someone else in the chest with a bat.



Anyway I would have to read it a couple more times in order to give you a better critique but at the moment that is what I think. Good Luck Sir. biggrin.gif

SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#3

Posted 19 January 2012 - 03:51 PM

Dicky came about after me watching The Fighter, where Christian Bale plays a boxer called Dicky Eklund. It just kinda stuck with me as a peculiar but cool nickname. I was originally going to go for something plain like John or Michael (or Richard) but they seemed a bit boring. I wanted something unique(ish). I'm also reminded of Phil Bell (or was it Ray?) constantly calling Niko "Nicky" so I could easily see them calling Richard "Dicky". The odd choice name might be something I can work into the plot later on.

I have a feeling that the over-the-top beating Dicky delivered will come back to haunt him later.

Thanks for the comments biggrin.gif icon14.gif

Mr White0161
  • Mr White0161

    I am the f*cking shark.

  • Members
  • Joined: 03 Jan 2011

#4

Posted 22 January 2012 - 06:06 AM

Not bad, to be honest only reason I read it is because it says "Alderney" in the title and I like to think of Alderney as my home away from home.

SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#5

Posted 22 January 2012 - 03:04 PM

QUOTE (Mr White0161 @ Sunday, Jan 22 2012, 06:06)
Not bad, to be honest only reason I read it is because it says "Alderney" in the title and I like to think of Alderney as my home away from home.

Maybe I should have called it Click For Boobies...

SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#6

Posted 10 February 2012 - 04:11 AM Edited by SIKKS66, 10 February 2012 - 04:53 AM.

Chapter I

Replaceable You


BZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZ. Dicky’s eyes creaked opened slowly. His heavy lids were sticking together but in the midst of the blur he could make out a light. BZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZ. It was his mobile phone, he realised, vibrating and dancing all over his bedside table. Marco? Pete? This early? Dicky turned to look at the alarm clock on his wife’s side of the bed. 5am. Jimmy must have had those guys up pretty damn early if they’ve finished his task already. Dicky reached out an arm and pressed a button on his phone before any further noise woke up his wife. He didn’t give himself time to see who was actually calling.“Marco? Pete? Do you know what f*cking time it is?” he whispered angrily.
“No Dicky it’s me Phil. We need to meet. Immediately. Come to my office.” With that, Phil hung up. Dicky grumbled and sat up in his bed. Why couldn’t you just tell me on the phone for f*ck sake, Dicky scowled, why do you have to be careful all the f*cking time? As he slowly woke up, he figured Phil probably had the right of it. He turned to his wife and kissed her on the shoulder. “Cara,” he whispered, a warm hand pressed against her arm, “I’m going out. Not sure when I’ll be back.” Cara nodded her head and pulled the covers tight around her. Dicky was more than little bit envious; the morning was chilly and it was a long walk down the hallway to the bathroom. As he staggered down the hall, Dicky yawned and stretched. He hadn’t slept much that night. He kept thinking about Chris. Dicky had killed before, many times, but the manner of this murder kept on returning to him. Why did I draw it out? Why did I use a bat? Why didn’t I take up Jimmy’s offer to just have the guy quietly and professionally whacked? Chris’s bloody face, his screams and the blood that spat out from his mouth haunted him. He’d been so resolved in his desire to personally kill the man who sent him away for all those years he forgot about how he would live with himself after. Murdering the man who he’d befriended as a kid, the godfather to his own child. He cursed, stuffing those thoughts and those grisly images to the back of his mind.

Upon finally reaching the bathroom, the sight that greeted Dicky wasn’t a particularly pretty sight either. In the mirror, the mid-length hair that fell down behind his ears was flat and damp with sweat. He also noticed it was becoming more than a little grey and his widow’s peak was stretching ever closer to the top of his head; Dicky wasn’t sure which was more alarming. I’m going to have to get it cropped short. I look like I’m having a mid-life crisis with hair like this, he thought glumly. A shower and a shave later, he was looking a little bit more presentable. He couldn’t be bothered putting in his contact lenses- they often made his eyes itchy and water- so instead opted for his old pair of glasses. He hadn’t worn them for quite a while, he realised. He remembered when he first started wearing them his associates had taken to calling him “Dicky Glasses”. That was short-lived after the rise of a Pavano capo called “Nicky Glasses”; Dicky’s new nickname was dropped amidst confusion between the pair. If nothing else, the mob liked to keep their nicknames simple. After pulling on a grey Perseus suit and a thick black overcoat, Dicky was starting to look a little more professional, like a man on his way to the financial district rather than a meeting with a crime boss in southern Alderney. Dicky pocketed his phone, a wad of cash and his keys and made his way to his car.

On his way out of the door he noticed his teenage daughter sat at the kitchen table, a book open in front of her and a spoon scooping cereal into her mouth.
“What are you doing up?” he smiled, walking over to where she sat.
“Studying. I have a test in the morning.” Kate replied between mouthfuls.
“Wouldn’t you be better off getting some sleep then?” Dicky asked placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Says the high-school dropout,” she retorted, swatting away the hand. Feisty and smart, just like her mother. I feel for any boy who tries to get between my Kate and her studies, he smiled. Young Catherine was his pride but she had always been her mother’s daughter.
“Well good luck then,” he said at last, planting a kiss on her cheek. He turned to exit but she had stopped him with a hug and a kiss of her own, standing almost level in height with her father. My, she’s going up fast, Dickythought. Or maybe I’m just shrinking. “Thanks,” she smiled before turning back to her book.

A cool morning breeze met Dicky as he stepped out of his door. The sun was low in the sky and it painted the morning a beautiful orange and blue hue. There was nobody on the streets and the roads seemed deserted. It seemed a shame to ruin this calm so Dicky opted to drive to Phil’s in silence. He wound down a window and lit a cigarette as he drove; he’d forgotten to eat, a smooth morning cigarette was the closest thing he was going to get for sustenance for a while. I’ll get a cup of coffee and a muffin on the way back, he decided, upon driving past a small, non-descript coffee shop. Just the thought made his stomach rumble.

After ten minutes or so of driving in silence, Dicky reached the gates to Phil’s docklands. The portly, black security guard who controlled the gates greeted him with a smile and a wave. Dicky could never remember his name but he seemed to remember his.
“Morning, Mr. Gattuso, sir,” he smiled behind his greying, thick moustache.
“Good morning. I’m here to see Phil,” he replied, flicking his now burnt out cigarette onto the pavement outside.
“Of course, sir, go right through,” the guard responded, reaching his fat arm into his control booth and flicking the gate switch. Dicky drove slowly into the courtyard waving thanks at the guard before pulling his car to a halt outside Phil’s office. The door was open and so Dicky casually walked in, his arms held out wide in a jovial greeting to his consigliere. Phil looked glum, sat behind his desk with his chin resting on two interlocked hands. He seemed to be in a daze. When he suddenly noticed Dicky in the doorway, he stood awkwardly and beckoned Dicky into his office.
“Come in, Dicky. Sit down,” he said curtly, pointing at a vacant chair against the wall with his free hand. His other was nursing a glass of whiskey. A bit early, isn’t it Phil? Dicky smirked, eyeing the glass and the emptying bottle behind Phil. Suddenly he feared the worst. He placed the chair in front of Phil’s and sat down, neatly straightening his overcoat and placing his hands on his knees. Phil expelled a deep sigh and stared Dicky straight in the eyes.
“Marco and Pete are dead, Dicky,” he whispered at last. The words hit Dicky like a kick in the gut. He struggled to find a reply and so Phil was the next to speak.
“The boss took the boys out for a chit-chat with the Pavanos this morning. Them and a friend of mine to look over the meet and make sure it went off without a hitch. Only it seems Jimmy offended our dear friends the Pavanosand it turned into a bloodbath. Jimmy and my associate managed to shoot their way out but Marco and Pete weren’t so lucky. I’m sorry, Dick.” He threw back the whiskey and stood to pour another from the bottle behind him. He gestured the bottle towards Dicky but the caporegime shook his head.
“A bit early, no?” Dicky said at last. Phil smiled grimly.
“Perhaps for you. I didn’t get to bed last night. After the meeting at midnight, Jimmy called me over. Spent the whole night shouting about how he was going to take the Pavanos to war.”
Dicky ignored that last remark. Something else was troubling him. “Midnight?” he asked thoughtfully, leaning forward in his chair, resting his chin on a clenched fist, “but my guys told me Jimmy wanted them over first thing in the morning.”
“Yeah that was the plan,” Phil replied, taking his seat again, “but Jimmy decided he wanted the ‘cover of darkness’.” Dicky groaned and snarled at Phil. It took all his restraint not to lash out at him.
“How much longer are we going to put up with his f*cking quirks, Phil? Those were my guys. My top f*cking earners. I’m going up to his mansion and setting things in order.” Dicky stood and turned to the door.
“Sit down, you moron,” Phil pleaded, standing to try and stop his friend, “don’t do anything you’ll regret.” Dicky turned and pointed an angry finger at Phil’s head.
“You don’t tell me what to do. You might be consigliere in name but you’re a f*cking associate, I tell you what to do. My top earners, Phil. My right arm. Jimmy’s crippled my business.” He slammed a hand down hard on Phil’s table at that last point, knocking over a pencil pot. Phil didn’t flinch.
“Don’t turn into Ray on me, Dicky. I know my place.” Phil could see the anger boiling inside Dicky was now wavering. He saw the solitary tear in the corner of Dicky’s eye, magnified in his glasses. “They were good men, Dick. I worked with them, I respected them. But they knew the risks.”
“Bullsh*t, Phil,” Dicky snapped back, “are you going to tell Marco’s wife his soon-to-be born kid isn’t going to have a father? Are you going to go tell Pete’s mother her son is on some f*cking morgue slab? There’s risks in our thing and there’s plain f*cking stupidity.”
“I know, Dicky. I know. But you can’t go marching up to Jimmy’s door demanding answers for two made men. You know what he’s like. Every man is replaceable in Pegorino’s eyes. Ever soldier is... is fodder. Show some restraint and cut the crap.” Dicky felt like Phil was just provoking him now.
“Here’s your restraint, Phil,” Dicky snarled, grabbing his balls and walking out of the door. He walked casually towards his car. Adrenaline was pumping through his body and he momentarily forgot to unlock the door. Behind him, he heard Phil stagger out of the door and lock it behind him.
“Dicky,” he said, just as the caporegime was about to depart. Dicky rolled down a window. “Peg’s calling one of his ‘war councils’ at eleven. Do you want to go get some breakfast or something? We’ll go up together?” Phil turned to make his way towards the passenger door but Dicky declined.
“No, I have some bad news to relate before then. I’ll see you up there.” With that, Dicky reversed, turned, and sped off past the gates that had been opened for him leaving Phil stood scratching his balding head. This time Dickydidn’t return a wave towards the portly guard. He was in no mood for phony pleasantries.

Before his first destination, Dicky wolfed down a plate of eggs and bacon at a roadside cafe and washed it down with orange juice. I probably should have taken Phil up on that offer of whiskey, he rued. This would probably be a lot easier when drunk. The elderly woman behind the counter smiled at him as he sat in front of her. “Rough morning, sugar?” she asked politely. Dicky grunted in reply, nodding his head. She could see he was in no mood to talk, so left him alone a disappeared into the back. When he’d finished, he left a few bills under his empty juice glass, including a little extra for his less than respectful manner.

Dicky decided to go see Pete’s mother first. The elderly were always up early, Dicky judged, and she was bound to notice something wrong before Marco’s wife. When he arrived at Marco’s apartment, he knocked on the door quietly. “Mrs. Marchetti?” he spoke gently through the door, “are you awake?” He heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Heavy, purposeful and quick footsteps. I thought Pete’s mom was almost seventy? The woman who answered the door was a heavyset brunette dressed in white. A thick blue apron covered her front and on her hands she wore tight-fitting medical gloves. She crossed her arms and stared at Dicky suspiciously.
“It’s a bit early for callers, don’t you think?” she asked angrily, “especially strange ones.” She eyed him up and down suspiciously. The little hairs on her top lip quivered, dancing anxiously.
“I’m sorry, miss. I assume you are not Mrs. Marchetti. I’m afraid I have bad news regarding her son.”
“Oh?” the woman replied, dropping her guard and suddenly becoming visibly concerned. “He hasn’t been home for a few days now.” Dicky remembered that he’d had him occupied with the Chris business. He bowed his head and folded his hands. He couldn’t think of a way of lessening the blow so chose to just come out with it. “I’m afraid he’s been killed.” The woman sighed, whimpered and turned into the apartment. That she’d left the door open suggested to Dicky that she wanted him to follow. Closing the door behind him, the woman was now sat on a stool in the kitchen, stirring a cup of coffee in front of her. Across the room on a large, soft armchair, Mrs. Marchettiwas sat looking out a window. Dicky decided to address her directly.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Marchetti, I’m afraid we haven’t met-“
“She’s deaf,” the first woman interjected, her eyes not moving from the coffee cup in front of her, “and she’s not completely respondent anymore.” The woman lifted the cup to her lips and took the tiniest of sips.
“And that would make you her-”
“...carer,” she finished with the smallest of smiles, “my name is Melinda. Young Peter had no family in the area to speak of; he looked to me to take care of his mother when he was out of town.”
“I see,” Dicky replied, somewhat relieved. Well this makes things somewhat easier. “Okay Melinda, I want you to carry on taking care of Mrs. Marchetti and also look into finding her a nursing home to live in. I will take care of all the costs.” He scribbled down his number on the edge of a newspaper on the kitchen counter and pushed it towards her.
“Something cheap?” she asked unexpectedly.
“Excuse me?”
“You men disgust me; walking in here, throwing around your money. Mrs. Gattuso doesn’t need your money, she needs her son. He was the one bright spark in her life. Tell me, Gattuso, did you kill him?” Dicky was completely caught off guard at such hostility. And how does she know my name?
“No. I cared very much for Pete, which is why I am here before the police. Why I am here offering my own money to see she is put in good care.” He pulled the wad of money from his pocket and started flicking through notes. Melinda rose to her feet apoplectic, her cup poised in her hand like a weapon. “GET OUT!” she roared, her lip curled into a snarl. He stared across the room at Pete’s mother. She hadn’t moved an inch. I’ll never understand those too proud to take money from men like me. Dicky shrugged. “If you change your mind, Melinda, you have my number. Don’t hesitate to call.” As he left the apartment, a picture of Peter caught his eye hanging by the doorway. He was in a suit and tie, his arms wrapped around him mother and the pair smiled at the camera. His eyes followed Dicky out of the door. Don’t judge me you prick, Dicky frowned as he walked into the hall, I f*cking tried, didn’t I?

Dicky arrived at his next destination a half-an-hour later. It was still early, and Dicky was certain he had arrived before the police. Or so he hoped. Marco’s home was exactly that; this was no apartment, no run-down little bachelor hovel. It was a home fit for a family, with a large garden and a fence and hedges. His car was stationary in the drive-way, its red paint glowing in the early morning sun. With each step Dicky took up the path leading to his front door, his feet began to feel heavier. Jessie Bonnaro wasn’t just Marco’s wife; she was his friend and a friend to his own wife. My wife, Dicky cursed at the thought, she is going to be as distraught as me. As he rang the bell he was met with the sound of Marco’s faithful dog Peggy barking somewhere in the house. Dicky remembered the first time Marco had told him that he’d named his bitch “Peggy”; he hadn’t stopped laughing for a week. He still smiled at the thought. Yet this was not the time for smiles. Before Jessie answered the door, he heard her yelling at Peggy down the hall and ushering her into a room. What the f*ck am I going to say? Dicky wondered, his eyes closed and his head bowed, how do you break a young woman’s heart? As she answered the door, his eyes met hers. He could see the worry in them, the dread that his presence brought. “Dicky what it is?” she asked calmly.
“Let’s go inside,” he said, placing a foot forward on to the mat in the doorway. Jessie held out a hand, to stop him.
“No, what is it?” she asked again.
“Please, Jess. Inside? You’ll catch your death,” he replied gesturing at the bathrobe she was wearing.
“Dicky!” she whimpered, tears filling her eyes. “Tell me!” Dicky realised she would not budge. She needed to know. Now. He chewed the side of his mouth, bowed his head once more and muttered the words with a snarl and a whimper of his own.
“Marco’s dead, Jess.”
The world seemed to freeze around them. Jessie staggered backwards and fell to her knees. She rocked back and tucked her knees tight within her arms, her bare legs and bare feet stretched out in front of her. Only then did she begin to cry and scream and curse as loudly as gunfire.
For several moments Dicky did not know what to do. Tears started to fill up his eyes too. God damn you, Jimmy, he scowled. Jessie was rocking backwards and forwards, her face buried in her knees. Finally, Dicky reacted, falling to his own knees and wrapping comforting arms around her. She resisted at first, her face resembling Melinda’s with a snarl, spit and with curses. At long last she relented, hugging him back as the cool morning air blew in around them. For an hour they stayed there before Dicky escorted her upstairs to dress. As she changed, Dicky sat alone in her kitchen, scratching Peggy behind her ears. He decided to call his wife for assistance; he wouldn’t be able to stay with Jessie all day. After relaying to Cara the details- and having to listen to her own weeping, screams and even cursing- she agreed to drive over and keep the widow company. Before long the place was swarming with family, neighbours and friends of both Jessie and Marco, all sat around sharing stories about Marco as the widow sat quietly by the fire, in her father’s arms. As Dicky was making his goodbyes- it was quickly approaching time for Jimmy’s “war council”- one of Jessie’s brothers approached him. “I’d like to thank you for what you did this morning, Mr. Gattuso, on behalf of all the family.” He shook Dicky firmly by the hand. “I trust you will be at the funeral.”
“Of course,” Dicky replied, nodding solemnly. “Marco was a good man.” He shared a quick story with her brother about how they’d had a game of baseball the day before, about how Marco had struck out one guy like a pro. How he’d blown him away. Her brother laughed, nodded and offered Dicky a card. He was a paralegal over in the city, that if Dicky ever needed help he could get him a lawyer. Dicky had no shortage of lawyers in his pocket but he thanked him nonetheless. And with that, Dicky left for Jimmy’s mansion. He was running late. He had sent two quick text messages out to Phil and Ray and had hoped one of the two would cover for him and hold Jimmy up. Jimmy was without doubt on edge as it were; his tardiness would only serve to enrage him more.

There wasn’t much about Jimmy Pegorino you could describe as classy but his compound was certainly that. Perched atop a cliff in northern Alderney, it boasted two buildings, one of which Jimmy used as his home, the other was for the guys to use as they pleased. Luxury cars sat outside both driveways and a seldom-used, modest swimming pool sat towards the rear. It was here where Dicky met Jimmy and the others. After being ushered in by the sentries posted in the front of the compound, Dicky followed the pool-side up on to a deck at the very rear of the house. From here one could see stunning, panoramic views of the ocean to the west, the sky now a light blue as midday approached. “Nice of you to join us, Dicky.” Jimmy smirked, sat at a large round garden table that had been decked in a red and white checked tablecloth. Ray and Corrado, Jimmy’s bodyguard, flanked him on either side, with Phil sat opposite next to Dicky’s own empty seat.
“I apologize boss, I had a grieving widow and mother to attend to” he replied, taking his seat. The dishes in front of them, no doubt covered in breads and meats only an hour earlier, were now empty. He wasn’t particularly hungry but he eyed them longingly anyway. He felt he’d missed more than a meal.
“We’d have saved you some food,” Ray grinned, sucking on his cigar coolly, “but we doubted if you’d ever show up.”
“I told you I was running late,” Dicky shot back at his fellow caporegime, gesturing at his phone as he placed it on the table in front of him.
“Enough,” Jimmy barked, waving his hands as to dismiss the issue, “we have business to attend to.”
“You mean like the business of you having my two f*cking lieutenants murdered?” Dicky growled, cutting straight to the chase. Having been in the company of grieving family for a few hours had mellowed Dicky somewhat but now he could feel the anger and the adrenaline returning. Jimmy guffawed and took a sip from his coffee cup before offering a reply.
“You too? You know the prick that drove me to the meet and back was whining about the same thing. I’ll tell you what I told him: too f*cking bad. They knew what they were signed on for. Until you make a name for yourself in our thing, you’re nothing. You’re replaceable. It’s the only way you keep f*cks like Marco and Pete in their place.” Dicky slammed his hand down on the table and rose to his feet. Like any good bodyguard would, Corrado followed suit, standing up and towering over the caporegime with a menacing look in his eye. Dicky laughed in his face. Corrado was a big boy but he was as dumb as they came.
“Sit down,” Ray chuckled, still chomping away on his cigar, “both of you.” Jimmy’s eyes never left Dicky’s face, his mouth arched in disgust.
“You want to get all precious, Dick? Fine. You got any boys you can spare, Ray?” The other capo sighed in spurious impatience but finally said, “yeah a couple, want me to send them over here?”
“No,” Dicky interrupted, before Jimmy could place some Boccino men within his own ranks, “I’ll find my own.”
“Well shut the f*ck up then and let’s get down to business shall we?”

Jimmy relayed the events of the night before. About how he’d arranged the meeting with the Pavanos and had brought them a “tribute” in aim of finally getting the Pegorino clan on the board of directors over in the city, on the commission of La Cosa Nostra. The Pavanos seemingly took this gesture as an insult to the Commission, arguing that respect must be earned and not bought. Dicky agreed, but decided to keep quiet. Jimmy was getting riled up just repeating the story, he was better off not stoking the flames. A few heated words later, Jimmy said, and the Pavanos opened fire. Jimmy had taken a slight cut to the abdomen but Marco and Pete were buried in a hail of bullets. Only the covering fire of Phil’s associate, an ex-military immigrant by the name of Niko, had saved the Peg from death. Too bad, Dicky thought, wishing Jimmy had taken those bullets instead of Marco and Pete.
“Needless to say, I’m ready to hit the mattresses,” Jimmy concluded, “but nothing is set in stone. I’m going to make some moves. You boys need to stay safe and I’ll call upon you to do any necessary work if the need presents itself.” He turned to Phil, his finger pointed at his consigliere. “Your associate Niko, he seems to know how to handle himself. I may just use him to do our dirty work so we don’t need to sacrifice any more of our precious boys until absolutely necessary.” Jimmy measured a sarcastic smile in Dicky’s direction but the capo didn’t take the bait. He returned his own sarcastic smile nodded in agreement.
“I call this war council to a close,” Jimmy said at last, standing. Ray rose and left without saying a word, walking briskly past the pool to his chauffeur driven car out front. Jimmy returned to his house with Corrado; inside Mrs.Pegorino was wailing inconsolably. She had grown rather fond of Marco and his young wife, Dicky remembered, and his murder had seemingly affected her as much as it did Dicky. She’d probably make a better boss than Jimmy,Dicky decided.
Only Dicky and Phil remained sat at the table. The midday sun was warm above them, with the calm sea spread out across the horizon and the winds blowing a flock of gulls around high above them. Amidst all this talk of war, it was somewhat serene out on Jimmy Pegorino’s deck. “I apologize for losing my temper this morning, Phil.” Dicky said at last. Phil Bell was the closest thing he had to an ally in the family, the last thing he needed was to burn that bridge. Phil shook his head and waved him off.
“Forget about it, Dick. Heat of the moment, I understand. What you going to do about those gaps in your, uh, chain of command?”
“There’s a few associates I have in mind. They will do as a stop-gap measure, I suppose. Keep the money coming in,” Dicky replied, having not really thought about it as of yet. Phil nodded his approval.
“Make sure you sit on that money, Dicky. Times could get tough very f*cking shortly.”
“I always do.” Dicky smiled, thinking of the safe in Westdyke piled with cash and his accountant in the city who was good at making money disappear. The pair walked quietly back to their cars, past a group of armed sentries that Jimmy had tasked with watching the gardens. He was patently taking no chances. At the bottom of the driveway where their two cars were parked, Phil beckoned Dicky over one last time.
“I’ve been thinking... I have a guy down at the docks. I have him collect dues for me, rough up troublemakers if they step out of line. He’s got a sharp head on him, might be you could put him to work. Only thing is, he’s Irish. A family friend. I could always find someone else to do my dirty work if you need someone tough to keep your business in line.”
“Thanks Phil, send him over. Being a mick never slowed anyone down in the Pegorino clan, did it?” Phil chuckled in agreement and turned back to his car. Dicky patted his consigliere on the back climbed into his own. He decided he probably should return to Marco’s home and see how everyone was doing. He would have to drive his wife home later, and then tell young Kate about how her “uncles” Marco and Pete had passed away. For all his laughs with Phil, for all of Pegorino’s plans, Dicky couldn’t help but feel grim once again. His best friends, his top f*cking guys. A young family torn apart, a mother left to die on her own. Countless people grieving for two young men with their entire lives ahead of them. If only Jimmy Pegorino could see the damage his ego is causing. If only he f*cking cared.


-------


So the alignment and such is annoying, was a pain in the ass transferring over from Word. Anyone who knows a quicker way of changing Word into BBcode would save me a lot of hassle for next time. Let me know if you find it hard to read as it is, I am a bit. Dunno if that's just cause it's nearly 5am and I'm going mad.

Please feel free to point out any silly mistakes in typing or spelling etc. Getting so frustrated, I've bound to have missed something lol.

Enjoy!

fireguy109
  • fireguy109

    It's a long way to the top

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 30 Aug 2010
  • United-States

#7

Posted 10 February 2012 - 09:12 PM

Criticism ahead. user posted image

Read it start to finish, although I must say I'm rather conflicted. The piece was well written, but it just seems to me as though Dicky is a bit shallow, like he's more concerned with business than he is with his friends' deaths. I suppose that's how a real mobster would be, but one of the best things about the prologue was its uniqueness, how it was almost an entirely different class and universe. The introduction of Niko and Dicky's true character coming to light were a bullet through the arm of that uniqueness - not enough to kill it, but enough to make it less effective. The aforementioned shallowness moves the piece away from that uniqueness and, if it continues to develop, could turn the story into just another fan-fic. Furthermore, I believe those two characters, who seemed really important in the prologue and had a lot of potential, were killed off before the audience could really spend enough time with them to associate with them or even begin to like them.

Overall, I liked the piece quite a bit. It just seems that it has lost some of its flavor.

SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#8

Posted 10 February 2012 - 09:24 PM Edited by SIKKS66, 10 February 2012 - 09:31 PM.

QUOTE (fireguy109 @ Friday, Feb 10 2012, 21:12)
Criticism ahead. user posted image

Read it start to finish, although I must say I'm rather conflicted. The piece was well written, but it just seems to me as though Dicky is a bit shallow, like he's more concerned with business than he is with his friends' deaths. I suppose that's how a real mobster would be, but one of the best things about the prologue was its uniqueness, how it was almost an entirely different class and universe. The introduction of Niko and Dicky's true character coming to light were a bullet through the arm of that uniqueness - not enough to kill it, but enough to make it less effective. The aforementioned shallowness moves the piece away from that uniqueness and, if it continues to develop, could turn the story into just another fan-fic. Furthermore, I believe those two characters, who seemed really important in the prologue and had a lot of potential, were killed off before the audience could really spend enough time with them to associate with them or even begin to like them.

Overall, I liked the piece quite a bit. It just seems that it has lost some of its flavor.

Yeah but those two had to die. 'Pegorino's Pride' and everything. It was my intention to give a rich life to these two characters most players probably forgot about the minute they finished that mission. (Have I drawn enough attention to the fact that this story runs parallel to the final few missions of GTAIV?) I think on some level Dicky is upset about losing his friends, but he doesn't really show his emotion. Perhaps you are right, he has known them a long time and you'd think he'd show a bit more sadness than he did. But at the same time, he doesn't want to show it in front of Phil, Ray and Jimmy; the mob is a very machismo world, there's no room for tears. This stifled emotion might link in well with an idea I have for the next chapter.

If it helps- and this might be a bit of a spoiler but whatever- Dicky is never going to meet Niko. I see no need for it. At the same time, I can't exactly cut him entirely from the fanfic. There's going to be a bunch of original characters but I'd like to keep it in the GTA IV world. I know the more GTA IV characters I use the less effective it will be, and as such it may be the last we see of Phil, Ray and Jimmy for a while.

Thanks for reading though! icon14.gif I'll gratefully take any and all criticism on board.

fireguy109
  • fireguy109

    It's a long way to the top

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 30 Aug 2010
  • United-States

#9

Posted 11 February 2012 - 04:13 AM

You'll have to excuse me, I never even got to Jimmy Pegorino's string in GTA IV. blush.gif I'll have to finish that game one of these days.

I wasn't aware that Marco and Pete were actually characters from the game, I thought they were entirely original. I can see now why you would have to kill them off to remain canon, although it seems you could probably have squeezed another chapter in before doing so.

And again, sorry for being so critical.

SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#10

Posted 11 February 2012 - 11:03 PM

You whaaaa? Go get it finished. Now. Lol. Yep, I was hoping a few people wouldn't realise who Marco and Pete were until they read chapter 1, I'm planning on laying down a bunch of mini, subtle links to GTA4 to see how many people pick up on. But I don't think it counts if you've never played that part of the game lol.gif

And don't worry, I'm more than open to criticism. Criticism helps you get better. In fact, your post has prompted me to go write an introduction to the piece to clear up that confusion, so it's all good in the hood icon14.gif

fgcarva1
  • fgcarva1

    Il Figlioccio

  • Members
  • Joined: 20 Nov 2010

#11

Posted 12 February 2012 - 01:28 AM

Great story mate. The first chapter was sure a surprise. The foreshadowing is quite noticeable, not sure if I like it or not. However, the description in the story is perfect, not too much, not too little. I really like the balance between dialogue and narration.

Keep working at it 666!

Der_Don
  • Der_Don

    #FreeShinji

  • Members
  • Joined: 03 Feb 2008

#12

Posted 12 February 2012 - 08:47 AM

Good job! I really enjoyed reading this. Keep it up icon14.gif

SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#13

Posted 12 February 2012 - 09:51 PM

Woo more comments. So you think I was laying on the hinting a bit thick, fgarva1? For those two characters in particular, I felt it was important to do that, lets the reader adjust to where abouts in the GTAIV timeline the story is set. Don't worry, I have a handful of surprises up my sleeve that I'm hoping will result in "WTF" moments wink.gif

And yep, I will keep it up. Too much fun to write not to tounge.gif

orbitalraindrops
  • orbitalraindrops

    Homeboy

  • $outh $ide Hoodz
  • Joined: 16 Feb 2012

#14

Posted 19 February 2012 - 10:32 PM

Your banner attracted me here but it was your writing which made me stay. Only read the prologue so far but brilliant stuff. I kind of like tho think this was happening alongside my playthrough of GTA IV.

cidamelo
  • cidamelo

    RIP Amy WINEHOUSE!GRANT RODIEK is back to the EA GAMES!&

  • Members
  • Joined: 17 Apr 2010

#15

Posted 20 February 2012 - 02:29 AM

This is a good story! Alderney is a great place!@ happy.gif

SlickSpencer8
  • SlickSpencer8

    Mack Pimp

  • Members
  • Joined: 21 May 2011

#16

Posted 20 February 2012 - 05:20 AM

Seems very cool, but if you have GTA IV for you PC, you should try to make a series that way to if you have time! Just a idea biggrin.gif

SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#17

Posted 20 February 2012 - 05:49 PM

QUOTE (SlickSpencer8 @ Monday, Feb 20 2012, 05:20)
Seems very cool, but if you have GTA IV for you PC, you should try to make a series that way to if you have time! Just a idea biggrin.gif

Hah, you mean like a movie adaptation of the story? That would be sweet but I wouldn't even know where to start! lol.gif

@Cidamelo- Yup, Alderney is a great place. Actually, it's a sh*t-hole, but the stories that go on there are awesome!

@orbitalraindrops- That's exactly what I'm going for wink.gif

Might have to take more time with the next chapter. Hopefully I'll have even more interest in the start of the story by the time I finish it smile.gif Thanks for the comments!

fgcarva1
  • fgcarva1

    Il Figlioccio

  • Members
  • Joined: 20 Nov 2010

#18

Posted 22 February 2012 - 04:55 PM

QUOTE (SIKKS66 @ Sunday, Feb 12 2012, 18:51)
Woo more comments. So you think I was laying on the hinting a bit thick, fgarva1? For those two characters in particular, I felt it was important to do that, lets the reader adjust to where abouts in the GTAIV timeline the story is set. Don't worry, I have a handful of surprises up my sleeve that I'm hoping will result in "WTF" moments wink.gif

I'm glad you've got some surprises up ahead! And now I do understand the foreshadowing due to the timeline. I do feel that after reading Chapter 1, the protagonist is gonna go "John Gotti" on his boss. wink.gif

I'll make sure to check this topic often and hope you'll keep updating it. Would you consider this a "Concept" or just a simple storyline? I really don't see the difference. dontgetit.gif

elanman
  • elanman

    Misanthropic lycanthrope

  • Andolini Mafia Family
  • Joined: 11 Apr 2007
  • None

#19

Posted 02 March 2012 - 04:58 PM

Thoroughly enjoyed this; probably one of the best fan-fictions I've read.

My only real criticism is that there are a few punctuation errors which you could amend with Open Office.

Anyway, beyond technical niggles I'm finding it very hard to find things to complain about.

Keep it up, mate.

SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#20

Posted 02 March 2012 - 11:30 PM

Nice comments are nice! biggrin.gif Many thanks.

I may have to sweep over the completed chapters at some point and hammer out any grammatical/punctuation mistakes that stand out. I was never the best proof reader tounge.gif

@fgcarva1- Not sure what "concepts" are... they're like people's own creation of new GTA worlds/games, right? I've had a look at a few people's works, they're pretty cool. Only difference is that they are more interested in writing missions, characters and weapon lists etc, rather than telling a story. This piece is just a story, I see no reason to write down each of the characters, what weapons they use and what they drive. Pure fiction. I like writing short stories tounge.gif

Regarding your "Gotti" theory... I couldn't possibly confirm or deny such conjecture wink.gif

I've been mulling the storyline over in my head these past few weeks, recompiling events and cutting out things that were unnecessary. I might have to go play some IV just so I can properly get the story flowing through my head, rather than basing it on my memory of the game/YouTube videos. I'm hoping to get the next chapter started (or maybe even written, depending on how much Red Bull I've drunk) this Sunday. Don't worry, I'm not abandoning this at all, I'm just taking my time from this point cause I felt I rushed the first two a little bit. I have some awesome stories to come, and a few new characters I can't wait to bring to life biggrin.gif

orbitalraindrops
  • orbitalraindrops

    Homeboy

  • $outh $ide Hoodz
  • Joined: 16 Feb 2012

#21

Posted 07 May 2012 - 07:33 PM

Is this still going on?. I was enjoying this biggrin.gif.

SIKKS66
  • SIKKS66

    The Number of the Beast

  • Leone Family Mafia
  • Joined: 02 Apr 2008

#22

Posted 07 May 2012 - 10:47 PM

QUOTE (orbitalraindrops @ Monday, May 7 2012, 19:33)
Is this still going on?. I was enjoying this biggrin.gif.

I have half of the next chapter written but I'm in two minds over whether I want the chapter after that split into two or do as I originally planned. Been mulling it over for aaaaaaaaages but I do definitely want to finish this story. Every time I come to this forum and see my signature I think "f*cking finish it!" lol. Hang tight. It's this kind of comment that motivates me to get more written.

Ziggy455
  • Ziggy455

    I'm the writer.

  • Members
  • Joined: 02 May 2007

#23

Posted 08 May 2012 - 08:35 PM

QUOTE (SIKKS66 @ Monday, May 7 2012, 22:47)
QUOTE (orbitalraindrops @ Monday, May 7 2012, 19:33)
Is this still going on?. I was enjoying this biggrin.gif.

I have half of the next chapter written but I'm in two minds over whether I want the chapter after that split into two or do as I originally planned. Been mulling it over for aaaaaaaaages but I do definitely want to finish this story. Every time I come to this forum and see my signature I think "f*cking finish it!" lol. Hang tight. It's this kind of comment that motivates me to get more written.

Allow me to interject then.

I read this a while back but I wasn't going to comment until you had gotten to a strong point in the story. I hope you do continue this as it is (in an ocean of dying, clichéd, and practically useless fanfiction) one of the better stories. Get this finished! tounge2.gif

Rico44
  • Rico44

    Custom member title

  • Members
  • Joined: 10 Mar 2012

#24

Posted 20 May 2012 - 12:47 PM

First two chapters were awesome, I hope we'll see more soon. Don't turn R* on us!

Mokrie Dela
  • Mokrie Dela

    МОКРЫЕДЕЛA

  • The Yardies
  • Joined: 01 May 2009
  • None

#25

Posted 21 May 2012 - 10:27 AM

QUOTE (SIKKS66 @ Monday, May 7 2012, 22:47)
QUOTE (orbitalraindrops @ Monday, May 7 2012, 19:33)
Is this still going on?. I was enjoying this biggrin.gif.

I have half of the next chapter written but I'm in two minds over whether I want the chapter after that split into two or do as I originally planned. Been mulling it over for aaaaaaaaages but I do definitely want to finish this story. Every time I come to this forum and see my signature I think "f*cking finish it!" lol. Hang tight. It's this kind of comment that motivates me to get more written.

i've had that problem several times. I look at it like this:

What will it be like for the reader? Will they find the chapter too long? Will they skip paragraphs, or the entire chapter, or not read it at all?
If so, then split it, but if you split it, will the first half end in a cliffhanger or just stop?

I've tried to split only really long chapters, and make sure the first part ends with something thats going to make you want to read more.

Other times i've looked at editing it down.

orbitalraindrops
  • orbitalraindrops

    Homeboy

  • $outh $ide Hoodz
  • Joined: 16 Feb 2012

#26

Posted 01 January 2013 - 05:15 PM

Next chapter next chapter!!!




1 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 1 guests, 0 anonymous users