vinny-santorini-blog

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Vinny gave a dry chuckle at Clopin's seemingly unflappable optimism and nodded. "Yeah, figure yer right. 'Least ways we should be movin' along," he said, glancing at the native bar patrons who were still glaring at Clopin distastefully. He fished out the money from his pocket to pay up his tab, and then stood. Immediately a rush of nausea and the dizziness of the fever hit him. He wavered and clutched at the bar to steady himself.

Self-conscious, he gave Clopin a wan smile. "Ah--must'a had more ta drink than I thought."

Once he had regained his balance, he shouldered his pack and headed out to the street. The rain had let up to a drizzle. He smirked and looked sidelong at Clopin as the two walked. "It's a good thing yer leavin' London. Liable to get into trouble, talkin' like that."

They turned a corner, and up ahead he could see a guarded barricade. He frowned. He had known that parts of the city had been quarantined, but he hadn't realized that one of those areas was so close by.

clopinwilltellyou

DRP Halloween : To Arendelle || Vinny & Clopin

Clopin made a "seems legit" face and shrugged. "I'm not sure how much better London would be from a plagued city." He laughed and a man made a rude comment to him so Clopin made a rude hand gesture in return. Taking another sip of his drink, Clopin nodded at Vinny. "Well I'm certainly glad you've made it, mon ami! We shall now be two brothers sailing across the ocean to our safety!" Clopin boldly mused as he held up his hand, waving it slowly as to encourage Vinny to imagine with him. "I do not believe the ship will be taking off long from now, mon ami! Let's say we catch it, oui?"

vinny-santorini

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Journal Notes || Week 2 Challenge (belated)

Oct 4: attacked at shop -air raid sirens

[In margins] first reports ??Sept 29-Oct 2

       DREAM?

Oct 5: Power out approx. 7AM to 10AM -Curfew announced. Looting downtown?  -neighbor downstairs says train stations mobbed-- MASS EXODUS.

Running low fever. 100.4° Tried to eat. Everything is tasteless.

[In margins] ARENDELLE RUMORS?

Oct 5: approx. 9PM Power out again -water & gas also out 2AM: Can't sleep. Power still out. Fever up to 101°. Word is police blocking the streets--downtown to the national mall. Need to get out of DC.

Contacted Talbot over radio. He's piloting flight North, handful of people. Talked my way on. Leave at dawn.

Oct 6: All public transport shut down. Little police presence. Militia taken over. Commandeered motorcycle to reach air field. Made it to rendezvous w/ Talbot...

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Fever Dreams || DRP Halloween || Week 2 (belated)

[Warning: Contains bugs/insects, brief drinking/drug use, and implicit references to cannibalism.]

Vinny barricaded himself in his apartment. After making it home in (relatively) one piece from the shop, he had determined to wait things out. He remembered cholera and typhus scares back in Italy, he remembered the Russian flu that had swept the northern hemisphere. Eventually those all blew over; this would too. As a general rule, he wasn't too easily rattled. You learned to keep a cool head when you worked with explosives all the time, after all.

He tried to work, or to at least keep his hands busy, but his joints ached and he felt more fatigued than he rightly should. Shock, he reminded himself, that's all. His ear throbbed with pain, the stitches itched beneath the bandage. He sipped from a flask to quiet it and uselessly fidgeted with wires and cogs for perhaps an hour more. At length he gave up, and decided to get some sleep.

That night the sirens came back. They wailed in starts and stops until half past midnight, then didn't start again. Twice he thought he heard gunfire. More times he heard screams.

He couldn't sleep, even when the noises from outside quieted. His bandaged ear itched and burned, and that strange not-hunger gnawed at him. He kept looking at the clock on the wall but he couldn't make sense of the numbers on its face. His throat had run dry, his mouth felt cottony, and he wasn't sure how long it had been that way. Cursing, he pushed himself up from the bed and immediately staggered to keep his balance. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, he felt like...

(like when he was a child and he'd had a bad fever. He couldn't walk because the floor kept tilting under his feet. Mamma sounded so worried, but he couldn't understand the words she said. He was freezing, but she put him in a tub of cold water. The butcher from down the street came, the butcher had ice from the meat locker. It was so cold, he thought he was going to die. He'd had such strange dreams--)

He grabbed onto the bookcase and righted himself. He shuffled to the bathroom and rifled through the medicine cabinet. He didn't turn on the light, he had such a headache already. That damn ear. He knocked over half the cabinet's contents before he found the bottle he was looking for, labelled 'Laudanum.' He uncorked it and took a generous swig. Soon the lightheaded dizziness felt a little more pleasant. He stumbled back to his room and collapsed in bed, quickly pulled under into sleep.

----

His sleep was fitful and restless. He dreamed he was drowning in the mud of a lonely foxhole, trying in vain to light a fuse that wouldn't catch.  He felt flies and many legged bugs flitting at his mouth and eyes, and he couldn't swat them away. It was dark, he was sinking, and he was so very hungry. It was unbearable, that hunger was eating him alive. He felt weak, anemic; the bugs swarmed in a dense cloud and he couldn't breathe. If only he could eat, if only he could have something to eat--

          He woke and at first couldn't comprehend where he was. He was standing in the dark, and his legs and hands felt sort of numb, like the feeling after a long day outside in the winter. He blinked and began to recognize his kitchen in the gloom. To his left, the icebox door was hanging open. The stale water smell of the icebox was tinged with something sharper, metallic. He was holding something in his hands, something cold and wet. With one hand he groped for the light switch and flicked it on.

His hands were red and now that red was smeared on the light switch. He looked at the thing still held in his hand. It was the veal sirloin he'd bought at the butcher yesterday, still raw, with chunks missing from it. The taste of meat and metallic blood sang on his tongue. He wanted to vomit. He dropped the raw meat and stumbled out of the kitchen in horror.

He didn't sleep the rest of that night.

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Vinny returned Clopin's smile wanly and said, "From America, D.C. as a matter'a fact. Pilot buddy of mine from the Aviation Section got me to Iceland, snagged a spot on a ship and here I am." In this case, 'buddy' was actually a rather strong word. It was only by sheer luck and a huge accumulation of favors owed that Vinny had managed to cross the Atlantic. And now that he had, hearing that Paris was overrun, he was beginning to have doubts about how secure Arendelle could be.

"It's a good thing I got outta there when I did, though. Not a pretty sight, lemme tell ya," he said, his voice coming out more grim than he'd intended with his words. He cleared his throat roughly. "At least London still has some half decent places left, eh?"

DRP Halloween : To Arendelle || Vinny & Clopin

Clopin understood him perfectly. Giving a half grin half grimace he shrugged. Taking off his mask, he rubbed at his tired eyes and sighed, "It's been three weeks since I was home in Paris. All the traveling I've been doing has been wilderness to avoid anymore of those unsightly creatures.." 

Clopin turned away from Vinny, trying push away his feelings of helplessness and his longing for home. Turning back to him quickly, Clopin threw on his familiar smile and opened his hand toward Vinny. "And how about you, my friend? I can tell you've seen your fair share of the infected, wherever might you be coming from?"

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Vinny swallowed thickly around a stubborn lump in his throat. He leaned one hand on the shop's counter and stood. "Hey whoa, Jess, s'alright. Ain't no fly-overs happening right now. Least ways not in broad daylight, haveta be some kind'a idiot to do that." He smiled crookedly, hoping the stupid joke would lighten the mood a little. It didn't seem to do a lot of good.

"Well, ah, there is a little storeroom under the shop here, but it's not much." He headed around the counter to the back room. In the narrow aisle between the petunias and the lilies, there was a square hatch door in the floor. He hauled it open and a steep staircase led down into the dark. He glanced back up at her. "Trust me, it's a squeeze with just one person. I don't think Roger'd appreciate you an' I gettin' that friendly."

Ø for Operator || DRP Halloween || Jessica & Vinny

"I’ve no doubt about that," She murmured, delving into her task. By tasks end, she’d tied off the string and cut it, shaking her head,

"I wish I knew-"

And then the alarms started. Her scissors fell to the floor with a clatter and she turned ghost-white. The memories of cold stairs and brick buildings, a rifle at her back, hissing go down— No. No. That was different, this was now.

Still, the tremble was not chased from her voice, “That’s not— It can’t be.”

Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the counter and turned to Vinny, “Basement. You don’t have a basement, do you?”

The sirens only grew louder, and with them, her panic.

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Vinny chuckled in return and shook his head. "Nah, I'm not English. From Sicily originally, but 'm an ex-pat now. Y'know, blow up the wrong guy's van, suddenly everyone's gotta make a big fuss." He made a vague hand gesture as if the statement explained everything, then motioned to the bartender for another drink.

"So you came 'cross the channel I take it," he said. "Are things on the continent..." He trailed off, trying to think of some phrasing that didn't make the question entirely grim. He thought of the chaotic free-for-all that DC had become before he left, of store lootings and confused mass exoduses, of National Guard troops lining the streets against rioters. He glanced at Clopin, hoping the man would understand his meaning without making him elaborate further.

DRP Halloween : To Arendelle || Vinny & Clopin

Clopin waited as the man struggled for the word. "Arende-?" he began but the man had found the word again and Clopin nodded. The news that the ship had not yet arrived was actually pretty enjoyable to him. He sat down next to the man, never one to shy away from strangers, and gave an exasperated sigh. "Seven miserables days on that boat! I could use a bit of a break." Clopin chuckled and called a barmaid over for a drink. Receiving his drink, Clopin took a big, long sip and nodded while doing so. Swallowing hard, Clopin gave a big "Ah!" of satisfaction and muttered. "Oui. Well, grew up in France," gesturing to his darker skin color he grinned, "obviously not of French decent. My name is Clopin." Clopin was loving his new found freedom of being able to talk about his skin color, for if he did that back home they would surely take it as a gypsy confession. "And what about yourself, hmm?" Clopin took another sip of ale and nodded toward his new friend, "You certainly don't sound English, non? I should be grateful not to have entirely English company on our long journey to safety!" Clopin laughed probably a little too loud about the English in a British tavern.

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Vinny jerked awake from his dozing, nearly spilling his drink. He blinked several times, disoriented, and stared at the man speaking to him. "What? Ah nah, 's scotch, not ale, but close enough." It wasn't a total lie, he supposed. He'd been bitten, he had some... worrying symptoms, but he wasn't one of them yet. He was clinging to the hope that a bite wasn't a guaranteed death sentence. He didn't have much else to cling to, honestly.

"Safe haven dock? Y'mean to, uh..." He snapped his fingers a couple times, trying to recall the name. His brain felt murky, unfocused; he hoped that was just the scotch. "Arendelle! That's it. Yeah, it's not far, but the next ship ain't arrived yet. I've been waiting for it to come. Reckon a lot'a people here are.

"Might as well have a drink while yer waiting, huh? Better than being out in the rain." He frowned and drained the last of his scotch. The burn of the alcohol was dull, almost absent, like the inside of his throat had been numbed. He looked at the man again. "You French? I mean, just judgin' by the accent."

DRP Halloween : To Arendelle || Vinny & Clopin

Hand gripped tightly around his satchel and cloak pulled up against the wind, Clopin stepped off the rocking boat. “J’en ai marre! Always raining in England..” he mumbled as he pulled his cloak tighter and moved on. Stumbling down the streets of London, Clopin cursed as he tripped multiple times. “Does England never tend their roads? Oi vey..” Clopin had never been fond of the English people and now he knew that he wasn’t fond of their “famous” city. But he wouldn’t be in England for long. He was headed for the next dock to catch a boat to Arendelle. Though, after hours of tripping over loose bricks and turning into the same streets over and over and over again, Clopin was done. He finally picked a random tavern to go inside for shelter and directions. Looking around, Clopin took off his hood and went over to the bar. Not seeing anyone, he turned to the man slumped over at the bar and nudge him slightly. “Ehh hello sleeping man I was wondering directions to the safe haven dock? Thooough your face tells me your sick. Sick on ale or are you one of theses plagued being walking about hmm?” he laughed.

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Hey, guys! Vinny's open for threads for the Halloween AU! Message me and let's plot something.

Also, while I literally just came back with Vinny to DRP, I'm probably going to be keeping any canon threads to a minimum until the Halloween event is over.

Also also! During the AU event, I will be tagging and putting read-mores for blood, gore, violence/zombie violence, etc. pretty liberally. But if I post something that wasn't tagged or under a cut that makes you uncomfortable, PLEASE PLEASE let me know! DRP should be a safe space for everyone. :)

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Vinny chuffed a laugh, only somewhat unconvincing. "I'll be alright," he said, "I've had worse'n this." He held on to the either side of the stool's edge and braced himself. He hissed a sharp intake of breath on the first pierce of the needle, but gave Jessica a quick look of reassurance to keep going.

"So," he said, teeth gritted as she pulled the thread through. "You got any clue what's goin' on?" He'd barely finished saying it when a distant alarm began wailing outside. It wasn't an ambulance this time, though, it had the hoarse, searching tone of an air raid siren. The sound made his stomach clench with a long etched-in apprehension.

Ø for Operator || DRP Halloween || Jessica & Vinny

Jessica tsk’d as she took his chin and tilted his head, wrinkling her nose,

"That’s disgusting— Shouldn’t happen to decent people like.. Well, like ourselves, but decent. Yes— Yes, I’ve got some in the kit. I wasn’t in the field for nothing, Vin’."

She glanced outside and was suddenly feeling all the better for the lack of company. She tossed the hair from her face with a nervous ‘hm’ and glanced back, assessing the ear; it certainly looked like it needed help… Dropping his chin she ducked to the first aid kit, where a threaded needle waited, taped down. She lit a match and held the needle over it, keeping conversation on,

"Well, I think you could tell people you lost it boxing, but I agree, not quite the look for you. An eyepatch, sure, maybe? An ear? No, no, throws off the strength of your chin.”

There was a pause as she waved the match out and looked over him carefully, “Sure you’re alright? Do you want something to bite down on? I’ll warn you now, this won’t feel great. Better than it being torn off, but still unpleasant.”

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Vinny sat on the stool and clutched one hand on its edge to steady himself. He gave her a deadpan look as soon as he'd more or less gotten his bearings again.

"Jeez, Red, I figured ya'd know me better'n that by now," he said. "Believe when I say I don't need no schoolin' in that department--" He waved a hand toward the street beyond the shop front.

"Nah, she just came up the sidewalk and--and I dunno, she looked sick maybe. Not right. Asked her if she's alright, but like I'm talkin' to a brick wall. Alluva sudden she jumps at me, starts tryin' to take off my ear!" He paused and grabbed the edge of the stool seat to steady himself again.

"How're you with a needle an' thread, huh?" he asked. "Cuz I ain't Dutch and I don't know a lick about art, so the one eared look ain't gonna fly."

Ø for Operator || DRP Halloween || Jessica & Vinny

"You wouldn’t believe how quiet it is out—" Her eyes passed from him to the table against the window, back against the pile cluttered against the back door, and a chill went through her. 

Even Toon Town had been still— Which, she wondered, was all the worse? The silence or the lack of animation? The chill in the air or jumping at shadows? She drew her coat in and was relieved for the the door to shut after, though the clicking of locks rang alarm bells in her mind.

"Or," She murmured as she peered through a slat in table, down the street, "Perhaps you would. Come along- Sit. I can’t imagine you’re well-balanced enough to be moving too much."

Her hands came out in a flurry, supporting his back and arm and moving him safely to a stool, tucking one hand into her pocket and the other reaching for his ear, then pulling back sharply in alarm.

"And a woman— Just a random woman did this, and bit you on the ear?"

Shock barely concealed the suspicion, and her hand met her hip;

"Vinny, if you were having some sort of tryst back here that went sour, you do know I’m not going to judge? I would speak to you on safer— Practices— but not judge.”

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Vinny hung up the phone, rolling his eyes with good humor. Jess was--as ever--very... Jess. He tried again to peer at the bite wound by looking in the small mirror he'd fished out of the drawer. He supposed he should be thankful the woman hadn't chewed the ear right off, though it was a near thing.

He chucked the mirror back in the drawer and turned to go back to the shop front. His head, aside from the pain of the bite, felt sort of woozy and light, like the beginnings of a fever. He was sure he hadn't lost that much blood. Must be shock, he decided.

He walked up to the front windows reluctantly. But he saw that the crazed woman had disappeared and the streets were empty again. He leaned against the door frame and tried to get his bearings.

It wasn't long before he saw a familiar figure coming up the street; he unlocked and opened the door for Jessica. "So nice of you to pay a visit," he said dryly, as she hurried and he closed the door after her.

Ø for Operator || DRP Halloween || Jessica & Vinny

It was late afternoon and things were getting worse. The radio had been issuing quarantines and lockdowns and not-a-drills and drills and sirens and announcements and emergency replies, notifications, addresses, sales all morning… Now, things had settled down just enough to determine that Toon Town was in no immediate danger— As far as anyone could tell. Frankly, everyone was just ascribing it to a weird case of the scribbles gotten out of hand. Jessica had managed to reassure herself against boarding the windows or sending out alarm just quite yet, and had settled in to make dinner while they could still get fresh groceries (lines, it reported, were around the block!), when the phone rang.

Tip-toeing across the linoleum, Jessica scooped the phone into her shoulder and cradled it, simultaneously stirring a large salad, Jessica crooned,

"Hello, Rabbit household?" There was a pause, half a breath. The salad went immediately on the counter, the bowl spinning as her hand shook and she moved to grab the phone,

"Vinny! You got what?! By a what?!” Another brief pause, then a snap, “You know damn well better than to use that sort of language against a lady! I ought to box your damn ears-“ Another pause. A sheepish blush and a scowl, “I’m sorry, ear. Yes- Yes, I’ll be over as soon as I can. Hang tight!”

With that, she pressed the phone to it’s cradle and spun to leave a message— When the doorbell rang with a telegram…

Minutes later, Jessica was out the door and hurrying down the street, first aid kit in hand. There was no telling WHAT trouble he could get into..!

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Ø for Operator || DRP Halloween || Jessica & Vinny

Vinny could feel a trickle of hot blood running down his jawline and the side of his neck. He grimaced and pressed the heel of his palm to the bitten ear as he walked into the back of the shop. Past the pots of marigolds and azaleas (and the odd case or two of wire and fuses) was the telephone. He picked up the receiver, pressed it to his ear that wasn't bleeding profusely, and hit the 0 button. The phone line opened to silence.

"'ey, operator, I need th' police," he said. No response. "Hello? Operator?" Still nothing. He frowned and pressed down the cradle a few times. The dial tone returned, he pressed 0 and... silence. The call went through, but no one was home.

He grumbled and slammed the receiver back down on the hook. A second later, he picked it back up and started dialing a number. It started ringing. He tucked the receiver between his shoulder and cheek, and started rifling through a nearby drawer while he waited for Jessica to pick up.

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Hi Vinny! Did our order come in yet? No? Aw, too bad. Hey, listen-- Did someone like, bite your left ear or something? Its looking sort of red. Maybe take care of that and stop teasing the snapdragons, huh?

There had been news on the radio that morning of some strange illness going around. Sick people, lots of ‘em, filling up the hospitals, or so the news reporter said. Said people should stay home if at all possible. A lot of the public schools had closed, even. Vinny, however, reckoned that Americans had two main flavors of existence: tenacious, unstoppable determination, and irrational sensationalism. This was definitely the latter.

Or so it seemed to be, until half the day had passed and he hadn't seen a single customer since opening the flower shop that morning. In fact, he’d scarcely seen anyone at all. The streets were practically deserted, even during what was supposed to be rush hour. A few automobiles trundled by, a handful of people hurried down the sidewalks. Twice he heard in the distance the wail of an ambulance siren. He might have been more unnerved if he weren't so bored.

It was mid-afternoon when he finally threw in the towel and decided to lock up. The sky was cloudy and threatening rain, the kind of early autumn day in D.C. that made him miss Palermo. He had just turned the key in the door of the shop front when he heard the shuffle of footsteps approaching.

A woman with slouched shoulders and messy hair was making her way toward him. “Hi there, ah, miss,” Vinny called. “I was ‘bout to close up early, but look, I’d be happy to…” Vinny trailed off. The young woman didn’t seem to acknowledge his words at all, even though she kept shuffling unsteadily right for him. As she came closer, he could see that her skin was ghostly pale and the collar of her dress was torn. Vinny’s brow knit. “Miss? You alright?”

Finally he kneed her hard in the gut and her jaws loosened. She doubled over, and Vinny hurried back to the door of the shop. He scrambled with his keys a moment before unlocking the door and slipping inside. He'd barely closed the door behind him when she slammed against the plate glass. He locked the door and took several steps backward.

The woman clawed at the windows and snapped her jaws hungrily. Her eyes were glazed over, her pupils narrowed down to pin pricks. There was blood around her torn collar.

His heart was still hammering in his chest. He swore again under his breath. He put a hand to his ear and his fingers came back bloody. He turned on his heel and headed for the back room, muttering a stream of curses the whole way.

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Source

[vinny-santorini-blog]

[Let's do the Time Warp again]

ooc. ONE YEAR LATER!

Aaaand everything further back in time after this post is gonna be pre-hiatus and a lot of the stuff from past plots is gonna be retconned. Just FYI.

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Trashed - Pt. 1

The walk back from Audrey's seemed longer than usual. Vinny's head ached and he didn't want to think anymore. He staggered up to his apartment, thankful that Lorenzo was staying at a hotel. He didn't have the energy to try to explain himself.

He opened the front door and flicked on the lights. Then he stopped dead still. The room had been torn apart. Furniture overturned, drawers pulled out, papers scattered everywhere. His mouth fell open, but no sound came out. He stumbled forward, nearly tripping on a lamp. He shuffled through the debris and tried to force his brain into producing a cogent thought. A glass paperweight had fallen and shattered on the ground, so that the floorboards shone like razor-wire. 

"No," he mumbled, "no no no." He leaned heavily against the door jamb and shook his head. At last, his mind spat out a word: Audrey. The noose was tightening and if he did nothing else, he had to get her out of the crossfire.

He scrambled back toward the door, but something caught his eye. A bright glint, but different than the splintered glass. He bent, brushed away some scraps of paper, and plucked a gold pocket watch from the floor. Engraved on its surface were the initials "L.S." Vinny's stomach dropped. He stuffed the watch in his pocket and started for the door again.

He made it out the door onto the street, when two figures rounded on him and blocked his path. Police officers.

"Mr. Santorini?" one officer said.

Vinny could hear his heart pounding in his ears. "Yeah?"

"We'd like to ask you a few questions. Please come with us."

[vinny-santorini-blog]

Vinny stepped back and set his jaw. She put a solid brick wall, and he couldn't find a single handhold or rat hole for leverage. He stared at Audrey for a long moment, then looked away and turned on his heel to leave. He made it to the kitchen door, and then paused. He struggled to keep his voice level.

"I'm sorry, Aud."

He walked out the front door, a smoldering coal of self-loathing trying to burn a hole through his chest.

Accusations

Her voice hit him like a sack of bricks. He watched her storm across the kitchen, but he didn’t move.

“Aud, please, I know how you gotta feel about me right now, jus’ believe me,” he said and stood. “You can’t stay here, it ain’t safe.”