Pairing: BlackFrozenRabbit (Pitch/Jack/Bunny), North/OC
Setting: Mafia!Rise of the Guardians AU with possible (slight) fantasy elements
Warnings: Slash/yaoi/guy-on-guy, possible threesome, mentions of alcohol, tobacco, and/or drugs, forms of violence, mature scenes, sexuality, mentions of rape or near rape, strong language, possible case of Out of Character (OOC), (slight) inaccurate research on crime organization and things of that nature
Disclaimer: I do not own the Rise of the Guardians/Guardians of Childhood, it is copyrighted by both William Joyce and DreamWorks.
Summary: Criminals, infidels, scum of the Earth, call them what you will…but they are the things that kept the Stygian beasts at by. They are the hounds of Hell…gatekeepers of the underworld…they are the Guardians. And like all dogs, stray or collared, they are extremely territorial…
Santoff Claussen…
A city of boundless dreams, a paradise where your imagination will soar to limitless heights...
The buildings are so tall, you can barely make out the sky, no matter what time of the day or night; its lights rival the stars above and a wondrous nightlife to behold. The men are rich and have the money to prove their prestige while the women are beautiful in any shape or form. Shops filled with the latest fashion of the season or the latest toy, technological or otherwise. The food is sumptuous as they are exotic as champagne flow like water. Sweet dreams literally come true the moment you get off of that bus.
At least, that is what a newcomer would think when he or she read or hear stories about the city of Santoff Claussen.
Those who are not from the city would get a harsh awakening when it comes to their expectations. They would soon find out that those are just pretty illusions that hide the truth, even from its public.
Underneath its belly has a dark side that is filled with those who are strive to survive, even going as far as being ruthless as the dirty streets itself. It is a dirty concrete jungle where pimps and corruptive cops run free as prostitutes walk around the red-light districts, hoping to strike big with any person with a fat wallet. Small time criminals roam the streets as they tag the walls with graffiti to show territory. An occasional scuffle broke out in gunfights, mostly leaving blood splatters and chalk-outlines upon the pavement.
No one is safe in that part of the city, those who are unfortunate enough to live there kept their doors and windows locked. Children were the most vulnerable and had to keep off the streets during night hours. For the homeless and orphaned, it was a matter of life or death, whether it was on the streets or in certain care homes that are enough to make city prisons look upgraded.
It is a literal Hell on earth…both the degenerates and innocents have to suffer equally.
However, when there is Hell…there had to be hounds that guard the gates and have the knowledge of the city's unwritten law: To survive among monsters, one must be a monster. They are known as crime lords, criminals, scum of the earth…they go by different names; they are as vicious as the Underworld, but loyal and protective when it concerns about the balance of the city.
Though sometimes, even hounds could fight over themselves.
This is their story.
"I'm sorry, the Boss wants us to do WHAT?!"
Nickolas St. North physically winced at the high volume, pulling the phone away from his ear as he does so; he should have known gone for the conference option when he thought about calling one of his associates and close friends. Of course, he decided to call the one with a very hot temper. Well, emotional is more of a correct term.
A sigh was heard as the brunet man assumed that it was safe to place the phone near his ear again.
"You heard me, Bunny…" his baritone voice has a thick Russian accent. While he can speak English well (in his opinion), there are times when it sounded more or less broken, for a better lack of term thanks to his thick accent. "Manny wanted us to have meeting with Pitch at his house tonight. For good reason, I feel it…in my belly." He patted upon his toned stomach as an emphasis.
It is well known that the Russian man literally goes with his gut feeling, both in his gang and among the other bosses.
There was silence on the other line, causing North to place his guard up and prepare to pull the phone away from his ear in case there is another outburst. Bunny, as he was called, was known for having a really gruff personality and a bad temper. Well, maybe bad temper isn't the term to describe him, more like emotional. But there are times when he was very calm and rational, even admits that he does Tai Chi regularly for Zen purposes.
North couldn't blame him for overreacting though, it is understandable. He reacted the same way to the Boss as well, but unlike Bunny, he managed to express his disagreements to their leader in a more…respectable way. Or as respectable as possible…he rarely seen the man angry.
Or witnessed him angry at all…
Quite frankly, he would rather not see the day when he does.
After a while, he heard a heavy sigh on the receiver. "Fine, anything for you, mate. Just give me time to prepare and send in the address to one of my sentinels."
The young man smiled to himself, proud that he was able to convince his comrade. Normally, he tends to be stubborn on topics such as this. "Spasibo, Tovarishch."
"Whatever, mate…I just have a bad feeling about this. Just watch yer back, ya hear me?"
"Da…" as soon as they exchanged their last words, North heard a rapid beeping on the other line, signifying that his friend and colleague have hung up. He released a breath that he didn't know that he was holding before placing the phone back upon the rest.
He then looked out of his office window, seeing the familiar view of the city lights before him.
If he can be honest not only to Bunny, but to himself as well, North is feeling a bit uneasy about this sudden meeting to the one of the oldest crime bosses of the city. Not to mention meeting with the other crime bosses in what they deemed as THE worst- and possibly the most dangerous- part of Santoff Claussen underworld.
Whatever Manny has in mind, North will bet his second-in-command's famous cookies that it is for the good of the city.
If not…well, he'd rather not think about it.
Translation note(s)
Spasibo, Tovarishch – Thank you, Comrade
