the-unotorious

[the-unotorious]

YOU TALK WAY TOO MUCH

WARNINGS: language and violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Musselburgh, 2006.

“What more do you want?”

He was aware of how brutal his scenario in his head. Jordan never batted an eye at the much older guy on his left. The fifteen-year-old kept his dementor calm. Jordan was most certain that Grant was having the time of his life, thinking that he was toying with a kid.

A smoke was out when Grant blew out his pipe. A hearty laugh was heard when a hand touched Jordan’s back. Not a touch, more like a hit, following the rhythm of Grant’s laugh. He thought it was funny. Jordan didn’t share the same thought as him.

“Your father. I never knew he was a man of humour. As far as I’m aware, he never laughs, let alone making a joke. But this? You’re a kid. How brazen your father is to send you tonight. Do you even know how to speak without stuttering?”

Grant never got his next chance to open his mouth. As the loud thud were heard all over the room, people did not care that the big boss, Grant, was laying on the floor. Their curious eyes were headed towards Jordan. It changed to shocked as they all recognized who he was.

Jordan looked up, staring right back at everyone. He lowered his eyes again, looking down on the result of his not-so-hard punch and an extra elbow. Grant was knocked out, his belly was still standing up like a mountain. He was sending a reminder to those bunch bozos. That he was an Alastair, after all. It was a mistake to play down on an Alastair.

“Ah, I wish I could say we had a good fight,” Jordan said to the knocked down man. “But you’re too fucking noisy.”

[the-unotorious]

First Blood

"You won’t mind, do you?" The man in a dark long coat walked circling the helpless one. The helpless one was shut off under the man’s command. The room is full of the smell of sweats and horrible body odor from the helpless one. A tangy taste of prickle of blood, too, adorned the stuffy room.

The helpless one looked at the man with a fearful eyes. The man shifted on his feet. “You won’t mind that your lovely wife and your adorable daughter didn’t get back home after this?” The man said. “I can make them disappear in an instance, or, hear me out now, you do as I say.”

The helpless one was one of the many that was captured since weeks ago. He was starting to get on the man, Jordan’s nerves. “Oh, c’mon, Andy. Use your fucking mouth. Like when you tell the sniper to take the shot and killed my father.”

Jordan has been on a mission to find his father murderer. He knew it was the Jameson right from the start. That one family, an enemy to the Alastair for years. Too many years. The Jameson’s power was growing and Jordan’s father, George, did all his best to prevent the fall of Alastair. Jameson was threatening Alastair’s crown as the head mafia of Scotland. George successfully sabotaged Jameson’s deal with the government about the new contractor on the Grangemouth. It was a long planned for the Jameson to take over Scotland’s biggest port and George stole it right on its cherry. Amongst some other and older things too, the Jameson finally killed Jordan’s father.

Jordan has wiped out a third of Jameson’s workers. The ones that has been faithful to the Jameson, died when Jordan asked his crew to blew up their base up north. It was the first thing that Jordan handle as the new head of the Alastair. But, Andy, was someone important for the Jameson. He was the head of the security for the Jameson and Jordan was about to blow his head up when Andy kept quiet about the hideout of the family. Jordan kept Andy locked up for three weeks. Giving him nothing, but drops of water for whenever his guards remember. Jordan wanted to suck the life out of him first until the helpless one begs for death. Andy did not bugged. Not even a wobble and that pissed off the king.

“I am sick of you, Andy.” Jordan spat on Andy’s face. He brought out his Colt1911 and he saw the helpless one flinched. “You won’t tell me. Fine. Then you shall perish with my own hands.”

Jordan knew that his person, the people that works and ties and faithful to the Alastair has been seeing Jordan with one eye. They thought that the new boss will not do good and maybe, he will fail. Jordan knew about all of that. Jordan never killed a person, after all. But, he was here to prove. To establish his power. To remind everyone that the new king is strong, stronger even. Smarter. The new king is Jordan Alastair and he wanted every eyes to fear him.

The king pulled the trigger. First blood on the king’s hand.

[the-unotorious]

────── full name;

Jordan Hamish Alastair.

────── nicknames;

Jordan, Jordie, Hamish.

───���── place and date of birth;

Edinburgh, September 1st, 1994.

️️────── nationality;

British. Scottish.

────── occupation;

Model and something else.

────── height and weight;

178 cm (5'10") and 64 kg.

────── blood type;

O.

────── current domicile;

Edinburgh, Jakarta, New York, everywhere.

PORTRAYED BY ALEX HØGH ANDERSEN.

[the-unotorious]

King of the Kings

If there is one thing that Jordan believes is that himself, is, no doubt, resides at the highest of the seat. The head of the heads. The wheel of the wheels. The center of the centers. Yes, that is how much he believes in himself. After all that happened, why shouldn’t he? 

Growing up as the second born of George Alastair, he pretty much is a warrior for surviving his father. His father, George Alastair, held and controlled the mafia works for almost all of mainland Scotland. He was the head of the heads. United Kingdom may know the Queen, but in Scotland, George was the King of the underworld. The unseen, but his power is reaching almost ridiculous. Jordan despised the old man. For he thinks that George is just nothing, but a bag of bastard filled with boozed. Jordan hated him, with every possible and impossible fucking reasons that even an insane human being can think of. 

1990, September 1st. That was the day Jordan killed his mother. His mother last breathe is his first breathe and George’s eyes were cold right when Jordan’s warm little body wrapped in blanket fell on his father lap. From then on, life is hard as the son of the head mafia of Scotland. Almost all of Scotland. 

He was a brilliant kid who grew up as a genius man. He learns everything in a very quick seconds. He learns about his world, this mafia world, and everyone praised him for being such a genius. He’s got the brain of a hundred Einstein, his mentor said. Piano is his bridge. The bridge of anger and calm. Whenever he touches a piano, it’s either when he is angry or when he is at peace. So, when he found out his mother’s truth, his anger took over and, one night, that one night, he destroyed his beloved piano. His mother was an Indonesian, whom he already knows, and he speaks Bahasa fluently as a way to remember her. His father kidnapped her and make her as his. Jordan does not need to know about the whys. He just knew that his father is, the absolute fucking worse. 

His younger sister, Rose, lives in Germany. Rose said that she never cared about the whole mafia life that she should’ve lived (George loved her and he let her go), instead, she flew to Munich and starts her life as a nineteen-year-old architect student. Jordan maintains a basic relationship with his sister. She isn’t the worst, Jordan thought. 

Piano wasn’t his only interest, he was very fond of history. Poetry. Books. He did actually finished university and held a bachelor degree in archeology. He found it that these things are the ones who made him feel normal. His life is about maintaining two worlds and he might as well enjoy one of them.

People around him looked at him with fearful eyes, bowed head, and respects. He was an Alastair. Ordinary people looked at him as the charming, quiet, handsome model, Jordan Alastair. Posing and everything. Fake smiles with high branded things glittering his body. Stoic face with expensive clothes wrapped his well built features. That is his job before his father died after bullets hits him. It was an assassination. Jordan does not care, all he cared was that the mess was in his hand. His father’s bloody hands are Jordan’s to clean. He was a quick learner, remember? He was also a great problem solver. And now, Jordan sits on the highest seat. He has been for the last five years. He is still posing for various magazines and brands, still shows his smiles against the blinding lighting and flashing cameras. But, ordinary people does not know that Jordan is the King of the underworld. Maybe once in a while, Jordan should come up to the surface. 

He is the King, after all.

[the-unotorious]

JORDAN ALASTAIR

An original character written by Leonidas.

Man has get down on his knees, with bruised eyes, bloody mouth, scarred cheekbones, and a broken nose, still, all he got was the piercing eyes of his old man and a spit from the upper. Belittled and underestimated, the man. This time, this way, he owns it.

EVERYTHING THERE IS TO KNOW ABOUT THE MAN. ONE. TWO.

WHERE THE MAN RESIDES.

Yours truly, Leonidas.