Author’s Note: So I started watching The Godfather (not realising it was three hours long but I got super invested ok) and was inspired to write this short fic about my own mob boss, Capone. He's no Vito Corleone but I hope his lives up to his reference. It's a little look into his psyche and how he handles things.
Feedback is love :D I’ll add the dragons that appear below this post! Warnings for veiled death threats and mentions of body horror.
MAGIC IS NASTY BUSINESS
“So, ya come to me seekin my approval for a venture involvin magic.”
Capone the Tundra tapped a claw on his desk and fixed the Spiral sitting in front of it with a stare. Cyan, a self proclaimed pedlar extraordinaire, prided himself on being able to talk his way out of any situation. However, it was becoming obvious that his smooth talking ways would get him no sympathy now. Despite Capone’s small and fluffy frame there was a particular coldness in his stare that reflected the snowy domain of his original homeland. Chilly and unwelcoming in the dim light, his eyes reflected the fear on the other dragon’s face like a mirror whilst betraying nothing but hollow indifference underneath. Getting lost in those icy depths spelt disaster, something the Spiral knew from tales others had told him about the Mob Boss.
“Well, you see it’s-“ Cyan began, but Capone held up a paw for silence. The Tundra then gestured to the corner of his room with an outstretched claw. There, emerging from the shadows like a nightmare, came a Silverbeast. It was so tall that its hulking figure had to double over just so it could fit inside the room, and there was a horrendous scraping noise every time it took a step. It stopped beside the table with a deep exhale, the heavy chains binding its wrists and ankles ceasing their cacophony of sound. Capone rested a paw on its muzzle and stroked it, eliciting a soft grunt from the behemoth. Then he continued to speak.
“It would seem that ya haven’t thought this through. I don’t needa emphasise to ya how much I dislike magical mumbo jumbo.” Capone’s voice turned soft, “and when used in such a way Dregs on the wrong end of it get a nasty surprise.”
Cyan’s eyes briefly landed on the scar that ran the length of Capone’s right cheek and he gulped.
“Y-yes, so you’ve said, but-“
“Entertainin such a notion therefore is a waste of my time and money,” the Tundra’s claws tightened their hold on the Silverbeast, commanding its attention. It swung its great head towards Cyan and growled, eyes glowing with frigid fire. The Tundra merely smirked.
“Oh? Seems Jimmy don”t like time-wasters either. Beastclans aren’t so different from us after all eh?” Capone grinned, showing far more teeth than necessary.
The Spiral cowered. “Mr Capone please, it’s an honest to goodness profitable venture! I-I swear, the kid knows what he’s doin a-and there’s a lot of money to be had selling the scrolls-“
“The kid knows what he’s doing uh?” Capone clapped his front paws together, giving Cyan a small smile, “Well, that changes everythin!”
“R-really?” Cyan’s eyes lit up with hope. “Well in that c-case I can hav-“
“I’m not finished.” Capone’s eyes turned to steel.
“You’ve done good work for me in the past Cyan, so I’ll give ya one chance.” The Tundra leaned forward over his desk until he was right in Cyan’s face. “Bring the boy here tomorrow mornin with his book, some scrolls and a fresh cadaver. Then we’ll see if this lil’ venture of yours is fruitful.”
The Spiral flushed with relief, quickly standing up. He seized one of Capone’s front paws to kiss, words frantic. “Oh thank you Mr Capone thank you! You won’t regret this, swear on my grammy’s grave!”
Then he was gone, out of the door and out of earshot as fast as his legs could carry him.
“I’m sure I won’t” Capone’s smile faded as soon as Cyan was gone. The Tundra opened a draw and offered the Silverbeast a slab of meat, watching with glee as the behemoth chowed down. “Ya know Jimmy, much as I like that Noodle he’s becomin awful bold. And ya know what we do go bold dragons don’t ya Jim?” He grinned, mouth showing nothing but teeth. The Tundra opened one final draw, bringing out a bottle of fine Sorniethian booze. Pouring it into a spare glass, the Tundra lifted it up to his lips and downed it in one gulp. Placing the glass back on the table, he sighed, looking nonchalantly at the door.
“Magic's a dirty craft Jimmy. It ain’t nothin to me if it’s no good for business.”
Feedback is love :D I’ll add the dragons that appear below this post! Warnings for veiled death threats and mentions of body horror.
MAGIC IS NASTY BUSINESS
“So, ya come to me seekin my approval for a venture involvin magic.”
Capone the Tundra tapped a claw on his desk and fixed the Spiral sitting in front of it with a stare. Cyan, a self proclaimed pedlar extraordinaire, prided himself on being able to talk his way out of any situation. However, it was becoming obvious that his smooth talking ways would get him no sympathy now. Despite Capone’s small and fluffy frame there was a particular coldness in his stare that reflected the snowy domain of his original homeland. Chilly and unwelcoming in the dim light, his eyes reflected the fear on the other dragon’s face like a mirror whilst betraying nothing but hollow indifference underneath. Getting lost in those icy depths spelt disaster, something the Spiral knew from tales others had told him about the Mob Boss.
“Well, you see it’s-“ Cyan began, but Capone held up a paw for silence. The Tundra then gestured to the corner of his room with an outstretched claw. There, emerging from the shadows like a nightmare, came a Silverbeast. It was so tall that its hulking figure had to double over just so it could fit inside the room, and there was a horrendous scraping noise every time it took a step. It stopped beside the table with a deep exhale, the heavy chains binding its wrists and ankles ceasing their cacophony of sound. Capone rested a paw on its muzzle and stroked it, eliciting a soft grunt from the behemoth. Then he continued to speak.
“It would seem that ya haven’t thought this through. I don’t needa emphasise to ya how much I dislike magical mumbo jumbo.” Capone’s voice turned soft, “and when used in such a way Dregs on the wrong end of it get a nasty surprise.”
Cyan’s eyes briefly landed on the scar that ran the length of Capone’s right cheek and he gulped.
“Y-yes, so you’ve said, but-“
“Entertainin such a notion therefore is a waste of my time and money,” the Tundra’s claws tightened their hold on the Silverbeast, commanding its attention. It swung its great head towards Cyan and growled, eyes glowing with frigid fire. The Tundra merely smirked.
“Oh? Seems Jimmy don”t like time-wasters either. Beastclans aren’t so different from us after all eh?” Capone grinned, showing far more teeth than necessary.
The Spiral cowered. “Mr Capone please, it’s an honest to goodness profitable venture! I-I swear, the kid knows what he’s doin a-and there’s a lot of money to be had selling the scrolls-“
“The kid knows what he’s doing uh?” Capone clapped his front paws together, giving Cyan a small smile, “Well, that changes everythin!”
“R-really?” Cyan’s eyes lit up with hope. “Well in that c-case I can hav-“
“I’m not finished.” Capone’s eyes turned to steel.
“You’ve done good work for me in the past Cyan, so I’ll give ya one chance.” The Tundra leaned forward over his desk until he was right in Cyan’s face. “Bring the boy here tomorrow mornin with his book, some scrolls and a fresh cadaver. Then we’ll see if this lil’ venture of yours is fruitful.”
The Spiral flushed with relief, quickly standing up. He seized one of Capone’s front paws to kiss, words frantic. “Oh thank you Mr Capone thank you! You won’t regret this, swear on my grammy’s grave!”
Then he was gone, out of the door and out of earshot as fast as his legs could carry him.
“I’m sure I won’t” Capone’s smile faded as soon as Cyan was gone. The Tundra opened a draw and offered the Silverbeast a slab of meat, watching with glee as the behemoth chowed down. “Ya know Jimmy, much as I like that Noodle he’s becomin awful bold. And ya know what we do go bold dragons don’t ya Jim?” He grinned, mouth showing nothing but teeth. The Tundra opened one final draw, bringing out a bottle of fine Sorniethian booze. Pouring it into a spare glass, the Tundra lifted it up to his lips and downed it in one gulp. Placing the glass back on the table, he sighed, looking nonchalantly at the door.
“Magic's a dirty craft Jimmy. It ain’t nothin to me if it’s no good for business.”
