Mafia Proverbs

Chapter 1: Coronation By Blood (II)

                                                           Part II

   All four of the individuals guarding her held cannons in their gloved hands. The north GIMP clutched identical chrome revolvers, twelve bullets of power that could one shot a dragon. A sawed off shotgun was being held by the east GIMP's waist in one hand, and the other occupied with an automatic pistol. The west GIMP is carrying the same pistol, but her shotgun is a full barrel twelve gauge with shells in its personal compartment. At the south, the last GIMP was holding an olive colored Scar close to her chest.
   In Our Godmother Zephoné's arms is a fidgeting figure with curly brunette hair and a slightly fairer shade of brown than herself. He was wrapped in a fur pouch and glued to Our Godmother's full left breast, right on her beating heart.
   That bundle is Our Godmother Zephoné's new born bio-bred baby.
   It wasn't until The God Authority and her apostles entered did I see the last person trailing behind them.
   Round glasses. Long straight brunette hair climbing down her back with a bang covering her right eye. An all black three piece suit, clip board in one arm and a camera bag in the other. The absence of emotion on her round face was the kind you can see thru but never figure out.
   Yvyet Arterton, Our Godmother Zephoné's first born bio-bred child and one of her Fray Proxies.
I myself am a designated Fray Proxy, which is the absolute job of the first born to their bio-bred or adopted Prodigal Parent. Becoming their child's Fray Tutor , this position is to familiarize the next generation with logistics and guidelines. It is mandatory for us to attend "meetings" we are ordered to partake in. Our emotions are saturated sparingly with a necessary killer instinct and viable knowledge along with the nature to consistently put it to good use, with the making of money and murder being the prerogative. Last and most importantly, this position is to teach us The Proverb of The Ragnarok Law Mafia.
   As they made their way to The Top Floor. I noticed Our Godmother's gaze complacent at one spot.
   The God Authority wasn't acknowledging her subordinates.
   She wasn't doting on her new born bliss.
   Our Godmother Zephoné's hazel gaze is directly on me.
   Once they reach The Rapture Circumference, the north GIMP marched to the far left of the east GIMP and the south to the west GIMP's far left. They stood shoulder to shoulder at the entrance to the glyphed slab. The Fray Tutor and her bio-bred Proxy continues farther in. The mother-daughter duo moved by the hooded trash, Shango's Eater and up to me.
   Yvyet didn't speak a single syllable to me, possibly due to our assignments respectively.                   Although, the round face fourteen year old would steal quick glances my way while she set up a sixteen millimeter camera on a tripod.
   The God Authority, however, came and stood right in front of me, looking me straight into my mental windows.
   "Godmother." I greeted with all business, putting the side of my right fist under my left peck. A proper salute when a Prodigal Family member is approached by a representative of The Grand Authority.
   When I tried to lower my head with respect, Our Godmother Zephoné caught my chin with her cupping index finger. Holding her new born future in her left arm, the divine madame lifted my metallic gaze to the level of her hazel.
   "Are you ready for this, young one? Your coronation, I mean." The God Authority asked in a soft and sultry tone, a slight smirk rising at the corner of her neon black lipstick. "It is a very heavy deal in Our Family when one of our futures turn sixteen, reaching the morals and ethics of The Law's Maturity. It can also be a very heavy deal to the mental fortitude of those very futures. If you aren't bred properly or taught readily, this entire event could become an untamed beast that will eventually have you pushing up daisies."
   The divine madame's concern is not uncommon from a member of the Sics Six Six, but her energy and emotion made the encounter feel much more personal.
   "Madame, I've been ready for this since the day I was conceived. I will not disgrace you, Our Godfather Kake or The Law for as long as I draw breath." I responded with careful rhetoric, but is as serious as I could respectfully present. "More than I, madame, is it wise to be so mobile this quickly after your ordeal?" I asked in legitimate concern, my chin bouncing on her finger while I spoke.
   The God Authority giggled playfully before turning her hazel brown attention to the baby boy in her arm. Withdrawing her hand from my chin, Our Godmother Zephoné pushed the blanket away from the newborn's face.
   "I am here, young one." The divine madame answered, never looking away from her new born bliss. "My lung still breathes, my heart still beats and..." Her hazel gaze turned towards mine once more. "I still hold the omnipotence of being a woman."
   The God Authority giggled playfully once more, but there was no exaggeration in her mood.
   "That is a very mature mindset to carry on your own B'Earth day, your announcement coronation. I know your tenderness is genuine because of this." Our Godmother praised, highlighting my old soul.
   I motioned with my head to the bundle in her possession, "Well, it isn't only my B'Earth day, now is it?" I responded with playful sarcasm, returning half a smile to her smirk. "Besides, this is his official Earth birth. He came from your womb, extended Our Family, and allowed you to represent the vigor of The Law by rising pass his circumstantial consummation. This is my ceremony, but the spotlight is in no way mine."
   Our Godmother showed a little bit of surprise from the praise I showered the fresh existence with.
   "You're absolutely right." She whispered loudly, her partial smirk turning into a full smile. "Come see me tomorrow at twelve o'clock sharp. That's an order. Now that you have reached your coronation, there many things I wish to discuss with you." The God Authority commanded, giving me her back before I could even salute with acceptance.
   Once my attention was freed, it was again snatched by my mother's own.
   "We. Will. Talk." She mouthed with aggression. No sound escaped her lips, but the silent declaration carried a razor edge almost as sharp as her glare.
   My mother then swung her sword toward Our Godmother Zephoné. I could've sworn to The Proverb that I heard a blade slice thru gravity when the former GIMP's eyes shifted in a different direction.
   The God Authority's own sword clashed my mother's, a much bigger and sharper blade.
   Like a butter knife to a bayonette.
   A rusted dagger to a stainless katana.
   A reverse blade sword to a supernatural zanbato.
   Respect would dictate that my mother lowered her steel-like stare in front of half of her only superiors, but the former GIMP's metal still battled The God Authority's lightsaber.