Lover || Mafia!Larry || 2 ||

|| 12 ||

It took a lot to become a leader of DEATH. And yet it took most of all... nothing.

No life, no history, no enemies or friends.

After all, nobody should notice that the person was gone, that they were leaving their previous life and getting involved in a secret one that only a few in DEATH would know about. No one was allowed to notice that the previous person was gone and was now another person, who from then on was only a myth.

But not only that.

The person needed to have abilities that made them useful and worth enough to be protected. They had to have skills that made them useful enough to be able to defend themselves and do things on their own. Be it in technology, combat, weapons or other things. Therefore, not everyone was considered to become a leader of the mafia.

Usually, the leaders grew up knowing that one day they would take over the role and were specially trained and coached for this. But in circumstances like these, DEATH had to improvise; they could hardly use someone who was still in the middle of training to become a leader someday.

No, they needed someone else. A woman who was able to sacrifice everything and who considered herself capable enough to replace Killing Morth and, from one second to the next, to give up her old life and stand up for DEATH in different circumstances and more. There were many who would do that. But that wasn't enough.

Apart from skills and a suitable starting situation that could make it possible for her to simply start a different life, there were other things she needed. Loyalty, for example. Of course, many were willing to sacrifice their old life and become a leader of DEATH. Perhaps some people had even wished for the opportunity their whole life? It was crazy how many were willing to give up family and friends in order to gain power and money and work alongside L'eau Courante and Aria Soffocante. In the circumstances that DEATH was experiencing anyway; while there seemed to be people that betrayed DEATH, it was important to choose wisely.

Therefore, women who were suspicious weren't going to be a leader of course. But how did DEATH recognise if a woman was suspicious? Just by sacrificing herself and her whole life? Or was it suspicious if a person had no family from the beginning and therefore seemed to have nothing to lose if it was discovered that the person was betraying DEATH and was actually part of LIFE?

It was a complicated matter.

And yet DEATH thought they had found a woman.

She had many physical abilities, was combative, intelligent, fearless and loyal. Besides, she wasn't an important person in DEATH. From the outside. She had always been one of the workers who kept in the background, but was one of those who did the most without caring if they got the recognition for it or not.

She had no life.

She had no family.

All she had was a hobby that she practised alongside her work in DEATH when she wasn't working.

Singing.

***

There were many small bars in Rome; hidden from the upper class. Secret bars, where the same people always seemed to hang out to drink and have fun. It became a tradition to come there on Fridays, relaxing after another shitty week, meeting the same old people and enjoying the short moment of not being in the society in which everyone seemed to act perfect and friendly, while only focusing on their own purposes. For some people it had become their home, their way of escaping life while only thinking about Friday when the week started to turn them down.

A bar like this was the Rock 'N' Roses; it was an old bar, smelled like sweat that couldn't escape given the circumstances that the bar was in the cellar of a building, only had two small windows. The smell of smoke and alcohol was still in the air and had gotten into the old wood furniture; bar chairs and the bar itself being made of old wood. Posters of rockstars through musical history were hanging on the sticky walls, hiding the old wallpaper that was already falling apart on some spots or had stains nobody knew exactly what from. A small, wooden platform was in the front of the bar; there was room for a microphone stand and a stool. Next to that there was a small curtain nobody could actually say the colour of. It was a mixture of red and brown, but one couldn't see what the curtain's actual colour had been when it had been new.