Let’s start with the facts because they’re simple. The Godfather is the head of an extremely important organization. The Godfather is also female, 17, rather femine but willing to kick your ass should you insult anything that really shnouldn’t be. If you refer back to the the exact date of Janunary 17, 1920 you’ll see a date much more devestating to history than the Black Plague. On this date the government sent into effect the Volstead Act which in turn banned all alcoholic products. This day was also important because born into the American world was indeed Jennifer Leyona Remisteir.
She would start out her life a normal woman, ruthless and determined. Behind the scenes away from the snapshot view of cameras, she started her own personal Mafia. This Mafia was different from the bootlegging hooligans, this was run by a woman. A smooth slick underground operation who seemed to know more than the entire CIA agent headquarters could come close to. They had the technology, they had the people. Basically they had the power.
Jennifer did not allow her son to join this mafia, instead she waited for the next generation. Her son gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, deemed Michelle Faye Remisteir. Quietly behind her father and mother’s backs, Grandmother Jennifer trained the young Michelle. To her dismay, it seemed although Michelle was brillant, she lacked the enthusiasm for detail checks.
Of course that’s where I come into the picture. My name is Mikira Akiko Miyazawa and I am Michelle’s lawyer. Although I am only 16, I do hold certain factors that are deem worthy. Such as any and all paperwork I either handle and/or know exact details of. At her tweltfh year, Michelle Faye Remisteir inherited the Mafia, and at my 11th year, I became the soul financial consultant and soliciter.
Once the books were balanced and the budget and income simultaneously enlarged, we were in buisness. Of course we had to let go, or estinquish any and all contacts I felt weren’t fit and replace them with adequete substitues.
Let us, while we’re at it, get one other fact straight. I do NOT take on apprentices, current buisness obligations, not to mention social expectations leave no room for training. Of course the Godfather Remy is laughing all of this up in her quanint little room.
So of course I did what any self respecting soliciter and financial consultant would do. I went out to go whine to my friend.
"Xander can you believe this SH---"
"--Please Mikira.. Not while we’re in the church."
Perhaps it would help your situation as an observer to know one more fact. Xander is actually a priest in training for the Roman Catholic Church. He knows of our situation and is actually a junior CIA agent as well as our main technology provider and design consultant. His daddy may not be rich, but he sure as hell is.
"SCHUTFF.."
Xander reached behind the counter and withdrew a small box, the metal exterior glinted boldly in the soft candlelight.
"For my favorite little sociopath."
"A metal skippet?"
Alright this too may not be well known in poliet society as a common term. A skippet was a professional small wooden box used for document holding. This protected documents from most elements and gave a rather nice thing to carry around. Not to mention in a tight situation, a skippet could be converted into a rather hard hitting divise.
"Hardly."
He opened the box to reveal typical female excessories, sunglasses, braclets, rings, toe rings, make up, nail polish, and exquisite necklaces.
"No watches?"
"Too bulky, listen up Mikira, this isn’t going to be a hit and run sort of learning. You’re going to need some practice. The sunglasses act as mechanical binoculars, activated upon voice command and will focus in as you command Bracelets will function as either electronical lock picks or digital code breakers, just twist accoriding to situational need. Rings can be twisted for high power lasers capable of impariment or death. Toe rings will activate upon the command of fuck you, casting out a powerful toxin that you are immune to already. The nailpolish holds a powerful antidote, making you immune to truth serum. Necklaces hold cameras, there’s one for you and the Godfather. They also hold small voice recorders activated upon the command of oh really. The make up cannisters hold actual makeup, however activating them with the voiced command lipase will release a viral bacteria that will only survive long enough to attack those around you and completely destroy all of their fat supplies. Eating of course through their skin and muscle tissue to get to any and all fat reserves."
"That sounds painful."
"It is. That’s the one you won’t need practice with."
"Won’t it attack me too?"
"No. Your choker, jewlery, etc. All have a certain repellant for the virus."
"So is this your way of replacing our skull lockets?"
"Yes, with something slightly more stylish and effective."
"They’re chokers?"
"Yes. Should your captures get suspiscious and try to destroy it to find cameras etc. Upon the voiced command dynasty in your voice they will dissintegrate."
I put on the new gadjets and looked up at Xander, expecting some sort of nod of approval. Instead I found myself facing the largest look of disapproval that I had ever seen.
"What?"
"Why did you get into this buisness?"
"The Mafia to me is a beautiful thing and I am, as they say, an aesthete."
"You’re a kid in an adult’s world."
"You’re one to talk Xander Devro Polarski."
"I just don’t think you should be in the Mafia."
The last fact you need to know in order to fully understand the emotional roller coaster of one in my status. Please note the following `