Mafiafell Pap at it again, making excuses (some foolish rube backed into his pristine car this morning, he must decimate this man with a floral-backed message) to visit his favorite florist ;D

Brick:

★ Rivals Bear height wise.

★ The whole suave/intimidation shtick?

★ As soon as he’s off work? Big dumb stupid.

★ Mega himbo vibes. 

★ Hence the loving nickname....Brick.

★ But don’t make fun of him. Only his family can mess with him.

★ He’s actually very sweet,he’s just not allowed to show it.

★ He knows he’s got a reputation to uphold with the gang so he has to hold himself back when talking to people.

★If he happens to pass by a couple with a baby stroller?

★He’s holding back tears. He’s a sucker for cute things.

★That being said, he’s still pretty cheeky.

★He’s got humor like a middle school boy. He’ll laugh at the stupidest stuff.

★ Living on the streets and getting roped into a mafia gang doesn’t exactly give one the best manners.

★ He always takes the night patrol so he can make sure all the people traveling home from parties/work/etc don’t get bothered by muggers/etc.

★ He’s a savage fighter. You reallllly don’t want to mess with him. He refuses to use guns so it’s all fist fighting for him.

★ On that note, he wears lots of gold rings.

★ I cannot express enough how terrifying he is when he’s angry. Do not provoke him.

★ It hardly ever comes to him having to actually engage in combat. Once the stories spread people feared him.

★ Has more than a few gold teeth. Which are very very sharp.

★Smokes more than Sinter, but only smokes in private.

★ He literally just wants to settle down with a nice S/O with a couple of kids and a dog or two. Like please-

★ But he’s in a gang and he’s their main bodyguard/intimidation factor/fighter. He can’t exactly leave.

★ He’s got a bad shoulder that he doesn’t like to talk about.

★ If your his S/O he’ll bring you wild flowers he finds growing on the side of the street or something. He might look ridiculous, but what is anyone gonna do? Make fun of him? Good luck.

Gent:

★ Intimidating in an entirely different way than his brother.

★ Second tallest out of all the papyruses, right behind Brace.

★ He’s well learned, well spoken, well dressed, and so on.

★ While he does have a pistol, he prefers his throwing knives.

★ He’s cold and calculating.

★ Hardly ever smiles.

★ He’s only ever truly happy around his brother.

★ Talking bad about his brother in his presence is literally a death sentence.

★HATES smokers/drinkers. He doesn’t touch the stuff.

★ Loves sparkling cider with a passion though.

★ Just him stepping into the room will send a chill down everyone’s spine.

★ He’s not to be trifled with. 

★ He’s to be treated with upmost respect. 

★ He takes care of the gangs finances/deals.

★ If he’s got his eyes on you, congrats! You get special treatment!

★ No one dares to mess with you. Ever.

★ He’s very traditional. Dinner dates are his thing.

★ He’s the perfect smooth talking gentleman.

★ Has a nasty scar that runs across the front of his skull. 

★ No one’s allowed to ask about it.

★ Has one of the deepest voices out of all the papyruses.

★ It’s....kinda off putting ngl.

★ Always has gloves on and he keeps them spotless.

★ Kind of a clean freak. Do NOT get his suit dirty.

Gent: 10 times 0 is still 0, numbskull.

Mafiafell Sans: Brick. NOT BIG DADDY- DON’T LET HIM LIE TO YOU NO ONE CALLS HIM THAT-

You are so right and you should say it,,,

... and also-

He’d absolutely have been building up to some sort of grand gesture like this for a long time.

Slowly but surely requesting bouquets/arrangements that incorporate literally every kind of flower she stocks, seasonal and regular alike, requesting message-style arrangements frequently and committing every explanation she gives to memory-

Until finally, one day, she receives a stranger order than usual from him.

It’s written on that rich, but deceptively simple letter paper he always uses for his orders by post, written in his arched, immaculate script; a request for a truly staggering amount of flowers. A wide variety of them no less, she notes with her hand over her mouth, morning tea abandoned - but all she has of each variety. He has assured her - and her small, hole-in-the-wall business - that he will arrange for delivery - she need only direct his chosen men and they will handle the movement to the vehicles and the rest.

He also includes a handsome bonus as additional recompense for the trouble; he’s nothing if not thorough, and completely depleting her stock will certainly take some clever working to have replaced in the coming days.

... It all goes smoothly, despite her incredulity - what on earth does he need so many flowers for? Then again, perhaps best not to ask - she wasn’t a fool, she knew his primary business was not on the cleanest side of the law. But he was, quite frankly, her favorite customer (to say nothing of her best, by leaps and bounds, now) - and he took viciously good care of his community, of which her little shop was a part.

It had been nearly four years since they’d met - she liked to think they were friends, too... but she’s sided firmly on keeping all the moments he’s made her heart skip a beat to herself. For... many reasons, but- well. Nonetheless, such a wild and wonderfully thorough purchase does nothing to abate that fondness, nor the intrigued humor with which she finds herself constantly regarding him.

... So, of course- imagine her surprise when she opens the door to her little apartment that evening - an early close, with so little left to sell - and finds it overflowing with the very flowers she directed out the shop door this morning.

And in the center of it, on an arrangement of red tulips, red roses, honeysuckle, and red camellia, rests a postcard-sized note upon the single iris at it’s center - a request to meet, at a restaurant of his choosing, on an evening of her choosing.

He awaits her correspondence with the intrigued patience he’s carefully held these years, visiting her shop evermore frequently.

... EVER YOUR DUTIFUL CAD,