Judas Iscariot

Luna still remained naive or hopeful in a sort of way. She attempted to create some normalcy, but alas normal was never in her cards, nor was it in Julian’s cards. The tone felt familiar. Everyone in her life had spoken to her the same way one time or another - as if she needed to be taught. What they saw as ignorance was denial a continual grasping at something she would never obtain. A heart too big for a world like this made its home in Luna Vargas. She cared for him like she cared for Hugo and Rigo, as she cared for her late father, who killed her birth father for creating her with her mother.

Her mouth parted to voice her condolences, but she decided they’d be lost on him anyway. He made his point. “So, it’s just you now.” She said instead, her doe eyes resting on his. Downing the rest of her drink, she placed it on the side table besides the couch. Opening the drawer, she pulled out something a little stronger.  On a small silver tray that she placed on her lap, she began to divide out lines of white powder.

“Life is just all bloody means to an end then, huh?” She spoke as she glided a bill up the line of cocaine inhaling deeply. Holding out the tray she offered it to him without a word. There was a desire to ask if he could see her being apart of it, but she stopped herself. Still just an idea in her mind, Luna was plagued with the concept of killing the woman she was now to survive in this world. “What is it that you want? Just power, because that’s endless. There will always be someone more powerful.”

“It’s always just been me... I prefer it that way.” If there was a shred of humanity left within Julian Pistris, it had died with his older brother. Michael had always been the one who looked out for him, who would steal him away from the house when his father began one of his tirades. The silent understanding between them was strong. He could lean on Michael’s shoulder and find a sense of safety, never alienated. Never forgotten by the man... yet it was his gun that killed one of the only people that cared about him. For the sake of vengeance and a crown. Only a twisted mind could do something like that. Julian had, those four years ago, resigned himself with the fact that he was a monster. His brother’s blood covered his hands, and to move forward, it was just something that he would have to learn to be okay with. To embrace... because lingering on it could easily tear him apart. He now had his title, he was seen by the world, his old man’s shadow no longer left him in the dark. There was no time to cry over collateral. 

Onyx eyes fell on the time old powder tradition that Luna began dividing. “What else is it supposed to be? Nearly everything we do is to achieve some kind of goal, right? At least this whole thing is simple and not some cosmic bullshit about meaning.” He smirked, leaning his elbows onto his knees. Life was cruel and terrible- once someone understood that, they could play its game with an advantage. Just like Julian had all this time, causing chaos for chaos’s sake. Whenever it all that caught up with him, he’d welcome it. At least he’d leave a mark on the world. “Power is nice and all, there’s a lot that you can accomplish with the more influence you have.” He replied, fingers grasping the tray. “But is it all I want? Absolutely not- I’m a man of refined and complex wants.” A chuckle left his lips before he ducked down, a sharp inhaling clearing away one white line. The feeling was immediate- the burning in his nasal cavity, the shot of adrenaline to his head as he closed his eyes. “What about you- what did you want, Luna Vargas?” 

  Vivian loved a good cat and mouse game as much as the next person, though she wondered if indulging in such play with a Vittori was a good idea. In the grand scheme of things, likely not, but she was ultimately just bored and needed something (or someone) to play with. Julian Pistris would do for now — there was something intriguing about the danger of being in a place that she didn’t belong in. She knew that despite how scum-adjacent she found the Vittori and the entirety of their clan, she was on their territory and for the best interest of everybody, she would keep her claws to herself.

  For now.

  “By no means is this a compliment Julian, but the views down here are nice,” Vivian began, before eyeing the groups of people situated behind him. “Despite the trash you forgot to pick up.” She allowed a small smirk to rest on her painted lips, looking his face over as he stepped toward her. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not here on any designated mission. Just testing the waters, seeing how far in I can go before waves are created.”

The more she spoke, the more he could feel his irritation bubbling. There was always the option of taking out his gun, finishing it all with one shot... granted a dead Capo wasn’t something he wanted on his doorstep. They weren’t prepared for something like Ivory retaliation, not with the change in their leadership still finding its footing. It seemed the only choice Julian had was to respond with a sour “Careful, that trash has a temper. They might not like hearing that.” 

“Testing the waters.” Julian nodded, a Cheshire cat smile pulling his lips upwards. As much time as he didn’t have, maybe indulging her would get her to leave quicker. It was that thought that made him take another step forward, the distance between Vittori and Ivory closing. “So you’re the kind of woman that likes a thrill, likes to swim with the sharks...”  Onyx eyes looked her up and down before he shrugged. “The thing is when you get into deep water, you’ve got to know all the risk that comes with it- say you let loose a drop of blood near a frenzy, it wouldn’t be long until a great white decided to make you its meal...” Wanting excitement was something that Julian understood, he oftentimes craved mayhem simply because it was fun. The one thing, however, that kept him alive was knowing which chaos to access. To not punch above his weight if he couldn’t win, or if there wasn’t something worthy to gain.  “It’s the same thing with being an Ivory and showing up on Vittori property... make the wrong move and those pretty brown eyes could become someone’s cufflinks.” 

@julianpistris​ The Dandy Pig

The idea of a cop willingly walking into a bar even faintly believed to be connected to a gang would probably have been laughable in anyone’s life other than hers. A couple of years prior, she would never have even thought about setting foot anywhere near it. Strangely, she did not hate the fact that her visits, sans badge, had become more and more frequently requested. Instead, she actually suggested the meeting place herself from time to time. 

Making her way to the bar, she scanned for the person who had requested the meeting this time. It did not take long for her to find the man in question, but she did not feel the need to rush over instantly to make her presence known. Gesturing to the bartender as she walked up, she leaned against the bar next to his stool. 

“So is there something else you need me to clean up, or is this just about a drink? Because I would very much prefer the latter.”

Julian had never been good at fixing things. No, his skills solely sat with causing mayhem and destruction for those around him. Sometimes, that wasn’t a bad thing at all- even the Vittori needed a mad dog to do their unsightly tasks. Where it bit him in the ass was his high profile moves, namely the murder of his brother and one Milena King. Gunshot residue clung to his skin, albis could only go so far... it was exactly where Evelyn Gagne came in. The beautiful homicide detective had been his angel twice now. It’d been her hands that had shifted around evidence and blame, promptly turning accusatory fingers to other suspects. Freedom came in the form of a crooked cop.

“I’ve been a very good boy lately... so today, it’s a drink.” He grinned, getting up and pulling the stool out for her. Even a Pistris had manners. “Tomorrow though, who knows?” There were a few questions that he had floating about in his brain given their recent shuffle. In Julian’s position, the more people he knew he could trust, the better. “Whatever you want, go ahead and order it. I just recently came into a nice sum of money courtesy of Amelia Kincaid.” The grand in his pocket was bloodstained by his fight... but shit, it was still a grand. 

Where: The Calypso Casino When: 7pm, Samedi

Addiction was something that would follow him for the rest of his life. It sat on his shoulders, the craving pulling itself forward every few hours. It’d cause him to make brash decisions, empowering the part of himself that continually sought blood and havoc. Without many purposes to get clean, Julian always indulge... after all, he didn’t have a reason to quit. There was no family that wanted him in better shape, his organization liked him wired and ready. Maybe one day, chasing the high would bite him in the ass, but for now, he didn’t care about future consequences...  The Casino was busy on a Saturday evening, with crowds of people trying to appease lady luck. There were the brightly colored machines, the waitresses in short skirts, and bustling poker tables...  It was the perfect place to blow through his money and a small baggie of white powder. He’d just finished dusting his nose yet again when the door to the single bathroom opened up. “For fuck’s sake, can’t a man get some privacy in this city?” 

Amelia watched the male make his way over, skin glistening from the exertion left on the ring. A wry grin slid across her expression as she pulled back from the rail and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “People say that when they’re ugly but decent individuals. I don’t think your insides are much nicer than the outside, darling.” She quipped in turn. Julian Pritis knew of his good looks and ability to swindle any person in bed, he didn’t need the likes of her inflating his ego anymore than it already was. When the bills left her hand, she couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. “I’d hardly call paying the local whores and stripper’s rent charity, Julian.” It would be a cold day in hell because Amelia believed Julian Pritis had a generous bone in his body to give to the poor and needy.

“You burn me, Amelia. Right to my rotten core.” The friendship that he’d formed with the Casino manager was an interesting one... She was always more than willing to aid in his hell-on-wheels tendencies. In return, he liked to think his antics gave her a good piece of entertainment. That was the way to form loyalty, mutual benefit. “You sure about that? Didn’t good ole J.C helped out Mary Magdalene? Don’t hate me for doing the lord’s work.” It looked like those three classes in CCD paid off enough to make that analogy. Letting out a dramatic sigh, he looked over at the woman. “Come on, let me buy you a drink... there’s something I want to talk to you about.” 

Mason couldn’t have cared less for Lorenzo’s funeral if he tried. Perhaps the only reason he was at this goddamn after-party was Veronica. To make sure she was okay. They’d been walking on eggshells around each other, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep an eye on her. As the sound of a familiar voice shook him from his own thoughts, the corners of his lips tugged up slightly into a grin. “It fits, though, doesn’t it? Bland and sour, just like the man himself. May he rest in whatever hell he’s gone to.” He didn’t bother keeping his voice down, pretty sure that most people here didn’t give two shits about the dead man. There was nothing to mourn, except maybe that Henri had now taken Lorenzo’s place, which really wasn’t an improvement at all. As his eyes did a quick scan of the place and the crowd they were amongst, he refocused on Julian. “Can’t say I expected to see you here.”

Was there ever a man as well-loved, as well respected as Lorenzo Vittori? It didn’t seem so. Even here, in his own hotel, people were more than willing to talk badly about him. Julian was sure his funeral would be much of the same, whenever that time came around... and if they found his body. “Careful, Mason, you don’t want to upset his ghost, he might come around to haunt you.” A smirk colored his features, Julian taking another sip of his drink and wishing it was something far stronger. Wasn’t it a curious thing how much the ranks disliked Lorenzo? It wasn’t a surprise that their loyalty usually fell with Veronica or- rest his soul- Vincent... or in Julian’s case, his own opportunity for power. “Pistris Commissioner means I have to do stupid shit like this sometimes... plus I like funerals. They’re so festive!” Things were changing all around them, the future becoming murky with the ascension of Henri to the throne. “Do we have to start calling Baudelaire daddy now or?” 

He figured that they were just getting drunk or something, with all of Julian’s words about being born again. At the mention of not telling him, Isaac shook his head with a sigh, “You’re lucky I like you,” It wasn’t that he hated surprises, he just wasn’t a huge fan of them. Isaac hopped into the passenger’s seat. A part of him was excited, he hadn’t had a boys night in a long time. “Although I have to ask, who is expecting us?” He took his words literally for some reason, as if he was Amelia Bedelia. “I’d like to at least have a hint of what I’m walking into.” 

“I’m a very likable person once people get the know me.” If only more people gave Julian Pistris a chance even if he didn’t deserve it. There wasn’t anyone else in the city that knew how to party as well as he did... At the question of who, Julian shrugged his shoulders.  “People, a couple friends...” About 100 + bodies had made their way to the riverside for the promise of debauchery, the crowd ranging from Vittori with an itch to wayward strippers. Julian turned on the jeep, soon after speeding down the busy streets of Montreal towards his favorite destination. “We’re going to the ports, more specifically warehouse 10.” 

Where: La Glace - underground ice bar When: 11pm, Vendredi

Pop quiz! On a Friday night was Julian:

a) Being a good man and donating his time to the homeless

b) Just getting done with praying at church

c) Blowing through a baggie of snow at an ice bar with the intention of getting out of his mind

The answer wasn’t exactly surprising. One day the habit was going to catch up to him, but wrapped in his jacket and sipping on a dark & stormy, it seemed that day wasn’t today. Business was slow at the ports for a Friday, with the Harbour Master signing a few papers here and there until his time to leave rang. He’d spent the majority of his time at his desk, mind running through a billion scenarios with the Vittori and the Vargas. Would his potential skip go smoothly, or was he going to lose a limb? What if the emerald empire wasn’t all it was cracked up to be? What if Henri gave him up to SPVM? There were far too many questions and too few answers for him to have a normal evening. Sitting at the bar, he didn’t pay much mind to the woman who appeared beside him until he saw her face. Nina Ambrose. The Pistris once had business with her family, but it had died with Michael. “If it isn’t the Instagram darling of Montreal...” 

Luna knew if she told Hugo or Kane she was inviting Julian over to be alone this probably wouldn’t of been happening. The woman never really fully trusted Julian, even when they were just children. He liked to win - whether it was tag or a gang war. So, while, maybe she peaked his interest for a little while, Luna knew the mere invitation was a risk.

Closing the door behind him, she lead him to her living room, stopping at her bar cart to pour them both a drink. “Relax, this isn’t a set up.” Her eyes rolled, wondering if one day she might be capable of something of the sort. That if she decided to deep dive into the abyss would she be the risk in this situation rather than the other way around. Turning back to him, she handed him his drunk, before elegantly resting on the couch. She brought hers to her lips letting her eyes trace him a couple times, trying to remember the last time she had saw the man.

“Well, I’ll drink up.” She teased - thought she was curious as to what it was he filled his time with. It was hard to imagine it was much different than what Hugo did behind closed doors. “You really don’t have to think about it so much, Jul. It’s just a conversation.”

“Relaxing isn’t something I’m good at.” It was the Pistris trait- constant paranoia about the world that surrounded them. Though perhaps in Julian’s case it was bordering on obsession, years in the rabbit hole warping his mind. As Anne Carson said, filth teaches filth and Julian was the shape they made him. He’d never had a solid relationship with anyone besides Aiyla and his own brother.... even that wasn’t enough to stop him from putting a bullet between his eyes. “Nothing’s ever just a conversation, Luna, especially when it comes to the past.” He said simply, leaning back into the cushion of the sofa. If she wanted to know- to really know- then who was Julian to stop her from hearing about his magical life?

“Let’s see- my dad kicked the bucket, the fucker shit himself when he took his last breath so that was pretty satisfying. Oh! Michael got shot and died but hey at least the funeral had an open bar...” It’d rained on the two days he was supposed to be a casket bearer, there holding his mother’s hand while she buried her husband and son... but Julian hadn’t shown. For Michael, he couldn’t do it. Not when it’d been his fingers that pulled the trigger. As for his father, once the party had moved to the funeral home, he’d taken a proper leak on Francisco’s grave.   “How’s your drink?” 

  Julian Pistris.

  A man of good looks and high status. In another world, he would have been Vivian’s type; hell, given the right circumstances, he still might be. But he was Vittori bound and so, with a heavy heart, Vivian had denoted him to pond scum. It was unfortunately, really, but at the end of the day she could have any man she wanted and one pretty smile from the pits of hell wouldn’t cross her mind a second time. Though, he did call her sweetheart, so who knew?

  “Down, boy. I’m simply minding my own business, enjoying the view.” A sly smile grew on her painted lips as she eyed the man in front of her, the idea of her presence putting a damper in his plans making her fingers tingle. Vivian truly was a glutton for punishment and a sucker for chaos. “Besides, I have standards higher than Willow Lane. Though, here I am, so perhaps that isn’t the case.” Vivian wrinkled her nose to herself and looked at the length of the dock, viewing the patrons it held.

“One hell of a place to go mind your own business.” This was the thing that bothered him the most about the Ivories. It wasn’t the fact that they wanted to kill him- frankly, they were another name on the list-, or that they wanted his businesses, no, it was their timing. Like stepping in gum or spilling your coffee, they managed to always be irritating at the wrong time. Julian would’ve been willing to indulge a little game if it wasn’t for the fact that a ship was arriving soon. So, despite the attractive woman in front of him, he simply rolled his eyes.

“Here you are.” He muttered, taking a few steps forward until he was promptly in front of Vivian. “So as much as I love some good bullshit, what do you want?” Julian Pistris was a gentleman. And gentleman catered to a lady’s needs, especially if it meant getting her the hell out of his hair. 

“Glad to hear it. Guess we should get this over with then, Xavier said. His interest was piqued, but Julian didn’t seem hurried to give more details. Either way, Xav fell into place behind him, and tried not to wrinkle his nose against the smell of cigarettes. It didn’t pay to be rude, but Xavier had never liked the smell. Maybe it had something to do with his ex.

When Julian kept talking, Xavier cocked an ear to listen, half-frowning as he tried to slot the information away as potentially useful. There was nothing much more forthcoming. He hoped if the details were important for him to know, well Julian would fill him in, but he was equally just curious.

“Your building,” Xavier let a shoulder lift and fall quickly in an affable shrug. He shot a smile at Julian, letting himself be led into the building. “So this guy. The weird guy. How’s he not all there?”

God the kid was clean cut. Julian could see it at the mild discomfort regarding his nicotine habit, in the way he was handling himself. Xavier was the definition of green... what a waste. Maybe Nikki had a soft spot for him, trying to keep at least one person innocent in this dirty city of theirs. The truth was no one ever got out of this place without bloodstains on their collar. The sooner they all realized that, the better. “My building- here’s a tip, always diversify your income, Xavier. You never know what could happen in this economy.” The elevator gate closed behind them, rickety as it lurched upwards to the third floor.

It wasn’t long until they were walking down the hall, Julian whistling while he swung the keys around his finger. “Well, let’s see... I guess you could say he just doesn’t have a good head on his shoulders.” The smirk on his lips widened as he started to unlock the door to the apartment. With the sound of a click! Julian pushed the handle, the living room coming into view... normal if it wasn’t for a particularly curious smell. “Johnny, we’re home!” On the kitchen table was the reason they were here, wrapped up in rug with a bow on top. 

his fingers twisted through his locks as a sigh bellowed through him. Huh, it seemed‌ simple of a fix for his sink. The man half wondered if he could have done the task himself and saved himself the lovely meeting. There was a faint dissonance from the sheer chaos that Julian exposed. He was the wild card of the Vittori. It was clear as day. His gaze never left him through the animated gestures and shallow threats. Was there something worth saving from this conversation? Kane was curious.    ❛     I wouldn’t flirt if you have nothing to back it up with, Pistris.    ❜    He granted a knowing smile, keeping the distance heavy between them as he took a step into the kitchen.

He didn’t expect a connection to the tangled mess he had with the Vargas family. His brow quirked, but he tried to bite back any real emotion from it.     ❛     You must not be good friends if they don’t care to mention you.    ❜   Kane tilted his head back. He was toying with Kane, trying to get him to reveal more information about himself than he will admit.    ❛     But I’ve spent many years without them. This is a welcome home, if you will. So, what’s your purpose, eh? I know you’re not stupid.    ❜

“You think I don’t?” A Vittori and a Vargas found themselves in a shitty apartment... that sounded like the beginning of a terrible joke. At least it could be if it wasn’t for the power play that was unfolding across the kitchen. With Kane’s position being something of a mystery, all Julian could do was poke the bear until it’d bite. Onyx eyes studied the features of the other man, a half-smirk hung on his lips while he listened to him speak.“That or they consider me a well-kept secret, hm?” Pistis and Vargas business had slowed throughout the years, the ports taking majority of Julian’s attention as Colombia fell away. Still, every once in a while, some illegal emeralds would find their way to Montreal- and for the sake of friendship, he’d be more than willing to handle them. Not all his money could come from the Vittori...

“Asking a man his purpose on the first meeting really jumps passed the foreplay of a conversation.” Julian replied, setting down the wrench as he crossed his arms over his chest. Neither of them was going to get anywhere if someone didn’t let up... and Julian was not a fan of wasting his time. The route he decided upon was subtle, but Kane seemed smart enough to pick up on it.. “Like I said, I’m a man of many languages.” The language of survival, of death... “You know what’s the wonderful thing about language? It’s ever-changing... adapts to the world and the people in it, it moves with time. I’d say that’s what interests me, my purpose if you will. Always looking to broaden my horizons.” 

ROSEMONT COUNTRY CLUB 

9 P.M. w/ @julianpistris​

 The atmosphere at the club changes after 8 P.M.. It’s members are either gathered to have a late dinner or cocktails, both of which seem to require just one more drink. Rodrigo doesn’t mind. Might actually feel just as comfortable here as he does when he’s hold up in the study of the vineyard mansion. So far, as quietly as the days had dragged on, he’s not quite content with needing to stay out of the public eye unless totally necessary. There’s no need to hide. The knife that the Empire had begun to scrape over the boils of the city had barely scratched the surface. Timing, as they say, is everything. Rigo still has some squirreled away somewhere. The man is nursing a dirty martini. There are extra olives, because he enjoys the way the vodka soaks into them. He’d invited Julian to meet him here under the pretense of ‘catching up’. Not a total lie, but an exaggeration of the truth. Rodrigo did want to pick his brain. To see just how forthcoming the other man would be about his affiliation with The Vittori and, perhaps, just how pliable his allegiance was. Again. Timing. Patiently, he’d sat quietly at the center of the bar, tucked neatly against it’s marbled edges. Even if Julian opted not to show… There were plenty more martini’s where this came from.

Rosemont Country Club was never to Julian’s liking. It was too clean, too stuffy- all it did was remind him of his own father, with Francisco being an avid attendee. At least he had been before his icy heart gave out. How many times had he been dragged to dinners, promptly ignored in favor of his older brother while the Pistris moved their business along? It’d been a place just like this that his grandfather met with a Vargas to establish an empire... and it seemed history was about to repeat itself. Tossing his keys to the valet, the man sauntered in while dark eyes landed on Rodrigo.

His mind had been turning ever since their last conversation, the Vittori’s own head complicating things with his death. With the fragile system in their organization shifting, Julian wanted to keep his options open. After all, he was a businessman and good businessmen had at least four plan b’s at any given moment. Tonight and the future would depend on a conversation over cocktails. “Apologies for being late, couldn’t find my Lacoste polo... wouldn’t want anyone here to think I’m uncivilized.” He smirked, hanging his leather jacket on the back of his stool before he sat down. “I see you got started without me.”