Apparition (Vento Aureo x Reader)

Jesus Is Back And He's Not Crucifucking Around

There's something rather melancholy about traveling alone. Perhaps it's the silence that permeates the air, a scent of loneliness that can only be noticed when left alone. The rumble of the bus as trees pass by, nothing but green blurs as they travel down the highway. Where to? Well, Rome, actually. The capital city of Italy, with over a millennia of history and is the countries most populated commune. As beautiful and expansive as it was, what with the sights and views and tourism, the populated city was also a home for human trafficking, as all large cities usually are. Passione loosely controlled a decent amount of Italy, extending their power from Sicily to Venice with ease, but with the instability of the mafia at the moment, smaller gangs have begun to rise between the cracks, including a preexisting mafia.

Perhaps to gain their power, they reached out to all these little groups, swallowing them whole and beginning to invade into Passione territory. This slow progression has eaten away at their land for years, even before the height of the mafia's last leader.

Their glory comes from an inexplicably vile trade, human trafficking. The variants of their work can be settled into quite a few groups, from the slave labor, sex trade, and to organ trafficking, yet the expanse reaches the entire world. It's a trade even more profitable than drugs, no doubt, but all the more atrocious. Hidden in corners and in plain sight, there are thousands, if not millions of victims to it every year.

(Y/N) has never set foot in the trade, her childhood, while short, was lived freely. That is how she's perceived it. But all these years later, after so much contemplation, she knows that it was far from the freedom she imagines when recalling that small shoebox apartment. Her mother couldn't get a job, it would call attention to herself. Anything with her name would call attention, no doubt something as small as a camera was the reason they were found. A life of regret, her nameless mother's grave nothing but the ground of that small apartment.

Shutting her eyes, she drew in a deep breath. To all those who have suffered, who haven't even the chance to escape, she doubted her actions could help them, but even if for a little, perhaps there was a possibility of slowing the cycle. The bus lurched forward, old brakes singing with the voice of clawed glass as they reached the final destination. She stood, the only one without a single bag or suitcase, save for her necklace and the pockets of the jacket tied round her waist. It probably looked odd, this one girl without anything but the clothes on her back traveling all the way to Rome. But so be it, she didn't plan to stay here long after all.

Her first order of business, of course, was to get situated in an open area. Seeing as her bus stop was right outside the train station, she would say that she's in just the right place. Hopefully she was in the right place, according to her sources, ahem, Giogio, this would be the main hub of their affairs, as that was where the highest concentration of their gangsters resided and most commercial travels linked to. It was the perfect place to smuggle items, or, well, in this case, people.

(Y/N) sat by the entrance, crossing her legs and just deciding to people watch for the time being. Of course, without her knowledge, she was also kinda sorta being watched. Not by the mafia she was targeting, but rather the mafia she was already a part of. Tying the mask around her head, she left the one covered eye cloaked under white cloth. She could still sense souls, and it wasn't as if it only pertained to one eye or another, but for some reason, it helped her focus. toUnbeknownst to her, the tracker was already on, and what she would turn on during her interrogation, is a microphone. They were perfectly aware of her placement at the front of the station, but who was she waiting for? That, they had no clue.

Neither did she, anyway. She was searching for something, someone, not exactly a person being suspicious, but a person who is scared. Whose soul had a damaged sheen to it, broken and misused. The signs of human trafficking were slight, but if searched for, they could be found. It was so common, hidden right under the noses of the public, and it wasn't until her eyes landed on a little boy, fidgeting and nervous, with an older male that casted wary glances out of cold, steel grey eyes wherever he looked. Bingo. She found her mark. Rising from her comfy spot on the bench, she strode after them into the taxi line. It was obvious that the guardian of the child would take notice, but she didn't care, studying the child with what looked to be... curiosity? The shape of their soul told her all she needed to know, that their father was a drug abuser who sold their child to keep up with the rigorous demand to stay high, it was kinda common, especially from the less unfortunate. Those sold were uneducated, unwanted, a burden that leached from their drug money. Unfortunately, this child, although young, was a victim of this horrific trade. She could try to help, but that wouldn't exactly stop them, would it?

As one of the taxis drove up, she watched with keen eyes as he flashed a sort of symbol on his palm, a tattoo of sort. Well, she obviously couldn't outrun a car, so (Y/N) knocked on the window. Risky move, but you never got anywhere without them. "Hey, I'm in a suuper big hurry, can I join you? I'll even pay for my part of the ride."

"Sorry lady. No can do. My son here doesn't like strangers." His words were dull and scripted, it was obvious they saw her as a nuisance, but she would show that she's a buyer. "There's another one right behind, so fuck off."

"Your son, hm? I'd like to get to know him." She glanced at them, but there didn't seem to be any trigger yet. "I don't see why there's such a problem, we might be going to the same place."

"Same place, huh? And where might that be?" He let out a low chuckle, his hand dipping into his burgundy coat to dig for something.

"Hell, probably." Her eyes didn't bother to linger over the metallic sheen of whatever he was pulling from his coat pocket. She already knew what it was, and entered the cab. Of course it wasn't surprising to hear that indistinguishable click of a gun, one that came from the barrel resetting the bullet. The cab already began to roll away, even before her buckling in. This was definitely mafia run. "Is this how you always treat a buyer?"

"Perhaps, but we don't usually care for customer service." He tilted the gun, aiming it so she could gaze straight down the pitch black barrel. "Now then, what are your intentions for approaching us?"

-+-

Not havin a good time good time~