Post by Deleted on Jun 23, 2014 9:00:55 GMT
 full name Angelina Frances DeMarco* main occupation ________________________________________ 5 QUIRKS » My hair has to be tied up when I'm thinking or working. » I sometimes mix my English sentences with Italian when I'm frustrated. » I take things apart and reconfigure them when I'm stressed out no matter where I'm at. » I'm fluent in English, Italian, Russian, and Spanish for undisclosed reasons my father found were important. » I wear at least three inches on my heels or I wear nothing. LIKES Her family, heights, absolute silence, dark days, cold nights, a warm fire, casual conversation, organization, European scenery, intricate patterns, fine art, interior decorating, seeing how things work, constructing new things, early morning runs, technology, maintaining order, literature, poached salmon, ice water with lemon and a vodka gimlet chaser, reality TV, Sunday dinner, traditions, dogs, warm beaches and clear water, rose petal baths, sandalwood, night jasmine, black clove cigarettes, bonfires, cooking, prospective real estate, pranking others, starfruit, passion fruit citrus tea, Italy, horseback riding, zoos, comedic relief, putting the fear of god into people, exotic vacation spots, new things. DISLIKES Unfit assumptions, bananas, hail, flat shoes, being yelled at, being threatened, work interruptions, having to look after her adult brothers, her father's distress, being disappointed, disappointing others, being alone, how her family babies her, people assuming she can't hang with the boys, when people insult her intelligence, not knowing what's going on around her, PICK UP LINES, hospitals, late night calls, flying bugs, dry heat, paper cuts, client consultation meetings, her father (sometimes), most of her brother's girlfriends, overly chatty taxi drivers, being told what to do, height jokes, pinching, inquisitive strangers, not finishing things. FIGURESHISTORY There is nothing normal about growing up under the watchful eye of several mob related family members. Nothing normal at all. I grew up in the suburbs of South Trenton, but we didn't have to be there. My father's side of the family had simply always resided there and he had never felt the need to break the tradition - he didn't want us to have a unrealistic aspect on life just because we had an infinite source of income. So, I grew up under five brothers in the comfort of our three story house in the burg. Your normal non-commercial worthy suburban area where the kids played hockey in the middle of the street, pausing for cars (or not), and there was a turning point for area control at every other corner. I think, in most aspects, it was the best move he could have made for all of us because we got to see the shit no one sees if they're living in a full mansion off the top of a hill where it takes ten minutes to get up the driveway. You don't get to see the way the dope addicts look when their fix is postponed or how the stubborn homeless reject help even though their ribs are showing and their eyes are sunken in their heads - you miss the world when you're on top of it. There was never a lax moment around The Burg, but my father wasn't someone that worried about things happening to him either. He may have been humorous and fun-loving, but he was a scary man when you crossed him. I'm talking bashing in your head on the end of the island in the kitchen because your son made his daughter cry and you don't give enough of a shit scary. That happened when I was nine and Antonio Nazzaro's father wouldn't make his son apologize to me for calling me ugly and making me cry in the park. I got an apology and flowers the next day, but it scared the male populations image of me for a few years. No one would even look at me for a while from fear that I would cry to my crazy father. That's just how growing up in our house was. We were a tight knit family, always will be, with extended family members always at the house and birthdays at every other weekend. Every Sunday we had dinner at the house, courtesy of my mom and aunts, and four or five generations of DeMarco Italians would gather at the dinner table and cause a ruckus. You got the stories from the elders, the tips from the older girls, and the protective 'if you need anything' conversations from your male cousins and uncles. There was no safer place for me, no place I was happier, than at our dinner table on Sunday evening - even if my grandmother always threatened to put The Eye on me for not eating my vegetables. As fun as my family was, as leisurely as my father was, he was not leisurely with my safety. He seemed to up everything by five scales when I was involved. Eventually, I learned that it was because I was a rarity in the family heritage. As cliche as it sounded, DeMarco men did not have girls very often and, after four boys, he had been sure that my brother Angelo and I were another set of them. Even the doctors hadn't figured out I was a girl until I came out screaming and they say my father lost his mind that day with emotion. I got my first body guard when I was five years old, his name was Tommy, and he wasn't the funnest guy to be around. He took the job too seriously and, eventually, I got smarter than him and found ways to make his job a living hell. One day, he lost me, and the next Tommy disappeared and was replaced with Victor. I was eleven when Victor came around and, despite his scary demeanor, he was a calm and kind man. He brought me my favorite things when he finally picked up on what I liked and on the days where I had to tag along with him on errands or with my father, he always had a bag of goods for me in the back seat. He was like an uncle to me and would continue to be as I grew. The thing with the mob is that when you have boys, no one cares, because you can't use a boy as a leverage. Sure, it's your kid, but do you really think the son of a mob boss is gonna squeal when you punch him? I guess you get a couple, but our father raised us much more openly. He made sure we were always aware of just how bad things could get and, when I was old enough, he made he learn how to defend myself in a near lethal manner. Not only because I was a girl, but because when a mob boss has a daughter then the leverage is clear and they become target number one when someone wants to piss in your coffee. No one was really stupid enough to take me or, rather, I was never aware of it because I was never out of the eyesight of a full security team until I was sixteen, but there were always threats and looks from less than approving parties. There were times I was exasperated and just wanted my father to be a normal middle-class man. I mean, I didn't understand anything of it when I was growing up. I just thought my father was a normal business man because he left in a suit like Connie O'Neil's lawyer father was. Except, that was far from it. Two or three generations back my great-great-great grandfather got an idea to keep himself and the future family members out of jail. The thing about being a known career criminal is that they sat and waited for you to fuck up and basically had a prison cell waiting for that exact moment where you fucked it all to hell. So, he started with a bar and fronted his illegal business through there. Three years later it turned into a business and now it's a multiple service, multibillion dollar corporation that my father owns and runs called Albatross International. When I was sixteen, my father moved us to a fully equip mansion in Newark. It was my mother's idea and insistence as the boys grew older, larger, and more rowdy. He had raised us in his controlled setting and now she wanted a better living, but compromised by staying in Jersey. My parents loved each other more than you would think possible of a man like my dad. Even if he had a clean business front, he was still a mob boss. Still a man that on a daily kicked people's heads in when they pissed him off, but his callous hands were so gentle when it came to me and my mother - he was rougher with the boys for obvious reasons - and I don't think I could ever not love my father with all I had. Even if he had me LEARNING RUSSIAN and Spanish before I was twenty and never let me go anywhere without someone with me. I suppose the family life was so good that, in reality, I didn't mind being stuck in the house some days with the five idiots and my parents. I went to St. Vincent Academy when we moved to Newark. No one told me it was an all girls school until it was too late and, let me tell you, Catholic girls are not nice. I don't care what anyone says. I think I got into more fights there than I ever did at Trenton Central. There was always something with the passive aggressive girls - my hair was too thick, my brows too thick, my nose too big, my lips too big - they picked on me for everything and I never really had my mother's patience to begin with. I had my father's blackout temper, the one that ended with bruised fists and broken noses. To be honest, the only thing that kept me in school was my father's money. Him building a new wing on the academy seemed to keep their issues with my personality at a minimum. I can't say I was happy that he was involved, but then again I wouldn't have been able to graduate with a 4.5 and high recommendations. I left Jersey and moved to California to attend Stanford when I was eighteen. Despite all RESERVATIONS my father had as I grew up, he was more than welcoming to the idea of me going to Stanford. Things were strained in the house. My mother had been diagnosed with cancer the year before and, while she was still healthy, you could see she was draining away fast. I had assumed all her responsibility regarding the house and dealing with my brothers crap. My brother accumulated a lot of shit and I had to put in a lot of time at home playing nurse with them to the point where I could basically out stitch any residential nurse. Franco and Chris were hitters, they liked to fight people and, somehow, in the middle of trying to break it up Vince and Angelo would get into it. Thankfully, Milo never got into it. He was always chill or, as I put it, lazy. So, anyone could see how that could be a distraction to the sister of five rowdy boys who may or may not have had an inbred maternal streak. My father just didn't want me putting my life on the back-burner to assume responsibility that wasn't mine to assume. He wanted me to go to the school, get away from the stress and worries, and then I could come back and do whatever I wanted because then it was an option and not some sense of obligation. Ol' Tino DeMarco was always as wise as he was crazy. So, I went and cried myself raw at the airport. I never had liked to be alone. I was always around at least one of them and, now, none. My father did send Victor with me, however, and I think that was a little more reassuring than I had expected. Victor was just as much as apart of the family as any one of them. I fell in love with the beach and the water faster than I could imagine. I called twice a day for the first month I was gone to check up on everyone, but eventually my brothers stopped answering my calls or they would answer and tell me to get a life and hang up. So, I did that. Joseph Mulloy was an old friend of my brothers who had moved a few years before we had moved away to Newark. I never had figured out where he had gone, but I ran into him one day and my little sister crush on him seemed to fester up again. He had always been someone I liked growing up, but as the younger sister I had no grounds to even think he would date me. It was just one of those things you blush about and smile when you see him. I was so busy with school and wanting to finish as soon as I could to get back to my family that I really didn't pay him much mind for a while. I flirted with him, went out for drinks or dinner with him, but I never took him seriously. I don't think I was able to take guys seriously because, having grown up with a bunch of males in my family I wasn't up for any of their game. Joey wasted four months of his life to woo me before I accepted that this was happening. I'd had boyfriends in the past, but for some reason dating Joey made me worry about everything I could ever do wrong to ruin it. I never believed in that soul mate bull my grandmother used to spew to me, but life with Joey was fun. Fun, but not probable to me because I hesitated every time I dated a guy because the mob was always going to be my life and bringing someone into that and it not working meant that person was going to be on a list for the rest of their lives - being watched for them to slip up and reveal something prevalent. After three years of dating, Joey proposed to me and I rejected him. He tried again and I just couldn't agree. I let him go after that because there was no where else to go. He was ready to spend the rest of his life with me and I couldn't really find myself comforted with the idea that he would have a target on his back for the rest of his life if he stepped into that inner circle. I knew he wasn't a saint, that he had his fingers in dirty business, but stepping in anything with my family wasn't anything I wanted him to be involved in. I just didn't want to have to choose between him and them one day. He disappeared a few months after, without saying anything, and when he started calling to check up on me, he would never tell me where he was. It was sketchy, but as long as he was calling. I would relay messages to his parents and siblings in Jersey and just relieve myself of my sins at that time to him. My mother died before my last year of school. The cancer had spread and her body started to shut down. I think the loss of Joey and my mother at the same time seemed like a hard slap in the face. For the longest time, I thought I was being punished because I had left my mother in her time of need. That if I had stayed she wouldn't have died, but logically I knew that wasn't true. I took an extended break from school because of her death, which they understood quite easily, and I don't think I would have gone back if my brothers and father hadn't pushed me to. I was the only girl in the house and I worried about them because they really didn't know how to function without a woman in the house. My father agreed to let my Aunt Cinthia come and take care of them until I was done and, assuring me they wouldn't go to jail while I was gone, my brothers helped my father get me on a plane. I graduated with honors from Stanford University School of Engineering with a major in Electrical Engineering and a minor in Business. It had always been spoken that I would join my father at the company if I wanted and, as soon as I had cleaned up my life in California, that's what I did. I became COO at twenty-four and became the face for the company. My father had always joked that they would enjoy my face at events rather than his ugly mug. To be honest, though, my father is the most immature human being I have ever met and he really just wanted to go underground for a while and not be an adult or the CEO of a company. If he wasn't renown in the underworld for his maliciousness when provoked, I don't think anyone would take him seriously because he doesn't even take himself seriously half of the time. The most carefree man of power I have ever met. Albatross International is a private company that handles many things and offers many services, it started as a front for cleaning the money, but it's actually become a successful business venture as well. We offer less than orthodox things to our clients as well as proper services. Things like item retrieval and the buying and reselling of products, land, and buildings. We dapple in everything. If the client needs something we're sure we can get it for them for the right price. I'm just the only logical one in the band of misfits so, I got the goddamn motherload of duties unless I need to call dad in. I also maintain the security branch my brother, Franco, started a couple of years ago. Anything electronic or computer related is my area of expertise so I deal with upgrading and developing SECURITY SYSTEMS and devices pertaining to personal security and information filing. Mind you, Franco only wanted a security company because he gets to threaten and hit people legally. Like I said, band of misfit. So, that's where I'm at now and it's a fucking roller coaster. ________________________________________ your name cailyn |
