To Lose and To Win - (Lackadaisy, OC!MC)

Marsala, Sicily. It was 1926. A tense year for Sicily as Italy had been under Fascist rule for a while now.

While the Duce had taken steps to stamp out some of the more dangerous traditions which may be connected to the long-proclaimed 'defunct' Mafia, a few interactions of old have survived through censorship and impositions.

One of those old rules was about duels: it wasn't like those among nobles and knights, but between youths trying to butt heads whenever it was possible. Maybe it was for a girl, maybe for a dare, or even, in worse cases, for the sake of honor. Honor was akin to being alive, to lose it meant to actually be less than a proper living being to the eyes of those that 'mattered'.

Thus, it was quite known to many that duels were a risky business between the illegality behind the topic and the various negative ramifications behind it. Losing was a horrible business, but winning wasn't always good news to those that succeeded in the duels.

If the losing party held a degree of power beyond their personal one, it was fair to assume that 'revenges' were to be expected. And unless one can 'defend' their victory accordingly, their life may as well be of a honorful dead fool.

The story of today is indeed of a fool, and one that was lucky enough to not only win so many times but... live long enough to make those victories stand out.

Samuele Bivona, known to many as 'Samuel' or 'Sam' was a renowned duelist. A fancy youth of 20 that had a good family behind him and a gooder reputation on his shoulder- this last one if it didn't involve ladies. A fancy lover and one that hardly stuck with a single flower, his 'browsing' as many would call it ended up irking many names in Marsala.

Winning a duel was indeed impressive, winning three was astonishing, but Samuele won more than ten despite his young age. A wonderful gun slinger having been accustomed to weapons through his family-long business of hunting, Sam was still a young lad with an issue: his family's influence was not enough to protect him from his last victory.

It didn't help that the one being humiliated in the duel was the youngest of three infamous siblings that had a large control over the town. The smug nature of Sam hardly appeased the rich family and, just like that, Sam's own family forced him to make a choice: leave for America with their help, or leave their home for he was a threat to himself and others.

Without a hint of shame or embarrassment, Sam picked the former, and with a ticket for St. Louis, the youth prepared for an exciting trip to the so-called 'Land of Freedom'. The Land of Dreams, where work was easy to find and booze was aplenty.

No one had told Samuel that the Prohibition had been around for years now, leading to some awkward exchanges with some locals at the nearest pub when he arrived in the States in 1927.

"Whad? Dat's stupido!" He remarked in broken English, months of sailing had given him the time and the chance to learn some of the 'Lingua Franca' in the US. He was far from accustomed, and his moody mood made him quite quick to mix Sicilian in his English.

"You tell me, pal. The Feds talk the law and we follow."

The rest of the cats in the pub grumbling at the unpopular decision. It was clear that the government of the States, almost trying to outpace the Duce's Fascisti, may have actually taken steps to actually run the fun even in this place.

What a shame!, Samuel lamented in his mind, What a shame indeed!

Not even a day in this 'St. Luigi' and he was already missing home and its less upsetting laws. Dejected, but overall curious, Sam was out of the pub and into the evening streets of the city. It was definitely bigger compared to 'his' Marsala, but it felt so lacking in its nightly life. What a sober existence- a pathetic one at that.

Step by step, Samuel wandered around to find a way to get booze. Sure, legally-speaking that was forbidden but... 'kids gonna be kids' as his uncles and aunts would say. His parents, long-dead and always remembered, would be upset to know what an unruly child he was, but he couldn't exactly say no to a bit of liquor.

As if luck was by his side once more, Sam paused and saw a truck carrying some boxes with liquids in them. Some of the taps weren't properly shut and the sweet aroma of beer reached his experienced nostrils. A grin appeared on his face as he saw the only one taking care of this business being a guy with a revolver. Police? Nah, this guy looked like a Soldato from back home.

Pity that he wouldn't have a name to blame or curse as he got bonked on his head and then got robbed of two boxes filled with dozens of precious bottles.

Lucy Hardt couldn't believe her bad luck.

One moment she was trying to be happy with the already disjointed job she was stuck with as Mr. Sable was always so 'busy' with the search for the 'action'. As a fellow of the explosive business, the paycheck was worthy the perplexing interactions and weirdness behind her boss, but the fact her own family would be 'in need' of extra manpower was equally disappointing.

Here she was, trying to make a point to her parents that she was independent and capable of sustaining herself. They, in return, wanted her to help with the family business. The only reason Lucy had even agreed to this was because it was a true necessity, but she refused outright to consider dropping her job with 'Mr. Wick'.

Her boss understood the urgency, hence why she could spend the night by the counter while her parents were off to have her grandmother checked by the family doctor. Tired but nonetheless pushing forth with her professionality, Lucy didn't even bat much of an eye as one of the recent clients to the small hotel entered while carrying some suspicious material.

The glassy noise of bottles within those boxes further intrigued the young feline, but she hardly did much of frowning at the jovial-looking idiot. It was night, how could anyone be so happy like that. Part of her thought it was booze that made him like this, which should have prompted her to call the nearby police patrol and see this fellow removed. But a quick sniff of him showed a complete lack of alcohol influencing his clumsy behavior: this idiot was indeed an idiot.

"Name?"

He blinked, blue eyes glowing with intensity that left her somewhat disarmed. There was an allure in his gaze as he studied her in return, same with that cheeky smile of his. A womanizer for sure, thus nothing new for someone as Lucy who had to break many suitors' hearts in the past.

"Samuele Bivona. Call me Sam and-"

"Here's the key to your room and the room is down on the right."

The curt interruption surprised the client, and while she thought he would just let her be, Lucy was then surprised with a renewed grin.

"Rude, but fiera. Nice do meet ya, Lucia."

The guess was close enough to her name, thus her eyes widened up in surprise as she heard that. Leaning by the counter, she panicked as she thought she hadn't recognized someone she should remember. "How do you know my... my name?"

The cat chuckled, but saying nothing as he picked his things and the key before vanishing in the hall. Despite hours of continuous pondering on how that happened, Lucy was given a response when her parents returned and they brought up a detail that her father had made for her - a surprise that he was disappointed she didn't pick up.

A small slate with her name imprinted by the counter. It couldn't be seen when manning it from behind it, and only clients could see it. Not only did her parents play that trick, but that drunk-not-drunk client even picked on it and used it on her.

Ugh, the things I do for my family. That's why I will never drop out of my job. Nope!

AN

St. Louise, but instead of humans it's cats! Lackadaisy, what a wonderful webcomic!