Tony Romano
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(4/7/06 12:16 am)
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Tony Romano
Out of Character
-Name: Nick
-Contact: NickSeiler [AIM], nickseiler@yahoo.com [e-mail]
In Character
Mafia
-Avatar: Al Pacino (circa Carlito’s Way)
-Name: Anthony “Tony” Giovanni Romano
-Alias: The Professional
-Age: 44
-Family: Gabriele Romano [father, deceased]; Isabella Romano [mother; 68, currently residing in Verona, Italy]; Serena Romano [sister, 42, currently residing in Verona, Italy]; Salvatore Romano [brother, 35, current whereabouts unknown]
-Occupation: Magliozzi Mafia
-Weapons: Being a gangster in the Magliozzi mafia, Tony has access to a number of various weapons. On his person, he carries two CZ 75 B pistols along with a switchblade knife. He has experience firing a number of other guns, as well as assault weapons such as the AR-15 rifle, various sub-machine guns, and rifles.
-Description: Tony is not a big guy, certainly not part of the muscle in the mafia. He has a solid frame at 5’10” and 185 pounds, so he’s more wily and sly than he is physically intimidating. He carries himself with confidence, dressing well in all situations, even when he knows he’s going to be digging through the mud of the Savage City streets. He’s frequently seen in only the nicest suits, occasionally with designer sunglasses. His dark hair is kept at medium length, falling just past the ears, and his beard is short and well trimmed. While his size may not make a man quiver, one look from his brown eyes can change a man’s outlook on life. Tony has a face of a man who means business, and while he might not be a bodybuilder, he can handle his own in a fight.
-Personality: Tony’s spent years as an employee of Don Magliozzi. It’s the only life he’s known, and he’s grateful to the Don for taking him in and giving him purpose and a family. He started out at the age of 16 as a regular errand boy, and then as he grew older, he took responsibility for some of the messier jobs the mafia had to offer as a hitman. Perhaps that’s where he enjoyed working the best - getting his hands dirty was one of the joys Tony took in his job. It took him a few months before he really began to gain the necessary skills, but within a few years, became one of Savage City’s best up-and-coming hitmen. He’s cold and calculated, and views death – be it natural of by his hands – as just another stage in life. He has no regret or remorse for the lives he takes.
Now, Tony’s worked his way up the ladder, and while he relishes the chance to get back on the street to do some actual hands-on work, he also enjoys the other responsibilities that have been thrust onto him. He gives out orders like a natural leader, almost instantly gaining the respect of those he works with due to his professional manner, a temperament that has earned him the nickname of “The Professional.” While it’s not exactly his forte, social responsibilities are at least bearable; he hates the idea of having to suck up to certain members of the upper class who he perceives as being scum, but he’s had less and less of that to do as he’s rose through the ranks of the mafia. Tony lacked formal education, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from looking or listening to him. His natural intelligence and manner of speaking suggests higher education, which makes him perfect as one of the front men of the Magliozzi organization.
All that said, the power is beginning to go to his head. His street reputation has grown through both his own actions and from the rumors that float around Savage City, and he feeds off of his image. He’s arrogant, but not to the point of it affecting the effectiveness of his work. But despite his rank, he’s growing tired of being referred to as a caporegime to Magliozzi. He wants to become his own boss, and make his name the most feared in the town. Tony still feels a strong loyalty to his employer for all that he’s done to help Tony along the way, but in recent months, that loyalty has started to shed within him.
-Sample RP: Another day, another assignment. Tony surely didn’t mind, though. Being out here on the streets felt more natural to him than greeting the snobs of Sacred Oats or talking with dealers on the phone to organize drops and deliveries. Here, he could feel the pulse of Savage City. He felt like he was back in the flow of the stream; he felt like he could really get something accomplished. The car slowed to a standstill on the curb of a large apartment building. The thing had to be at least ten stories or so. Tony nodded to the driver, a solid and reliable employee of the Magliozzi organization. He’d wait here until the three of them had returned from their little visit. Any cops or questions, and he’d play it off one way or another. This wouldn’t be that long of a visit, anyway.
Tony Romano pushed the car door open and stepped out, adjusting the fit of his suit jacket as he waited for his two associates to exit the vehicle as well. The doors slammed nearly in unison, and Romano gave the roof of the car a pair of taps as his way of saying, “Alright, let’s go.” Tony led the other two gangsters into the apartment building, where he stopped instantly to look at the room directory on the main floor. Half the names had been scratched out or were just missing entirely, but running his finger along the log, Tony found what he was looking for – Matheson. He rang the buzzer. No answer. Not a problem.
The trio made their way up the apartment’s staircase quietly, going unnoticed for the most part. They only passed one or two residents, and Tony put on a smile as they walked by, though anyone with half a brain in Savage City knew that a Sicilian being followed by two bigger men wasn’t good news. They reached the seventh floor – Matheson’s floor – and paused for a moment. Tony reached into his suit coat and felt for his pistols at his waist. Both were there, pleading to be taken out and played with. He patted them softly. All in good time.
Matheson’s door was the last on the right, and Tony wrapped his knuckles against the wood. No answer, but the tip they’d received said he’d be home. Even if he wasn’t home, maybe his money was, and really, that’s all Magliozzi wanted. But Tony wanted to put a bit of fear in this chump, so he was counting on him to be here. He’d be disappointed if he wasn’t. Tony moved to the side and gave one of his men the nod, and within seconds, the door had been kicked in. Tony walked in casually, removing the sunglasses from his face and looking into the living room, where Matheson was sitting on his couch in a beater, doing a line of coke.
”Does anyone in this town answer the door anymore when someone knocks?” Tony said out loud, raising his hands in an exasperated manner. Matheson tried to wipe the white lady from his nose. Tony looked on, indifferent, but curious if Matheson had used their money to fill his fix. If so, the Don would not be pleased. Neither would Tony.
“I was just getting up,” Matheson said, stumbling over the words like a drunk through a back alley at four in the morning.
Tony nodded, his face overly expressive and sarcastic. ”I bet you were.” He approached the couch and stood next to one end. He could smell Matheson’s sweat from here. The man was nervous to say the least. This would be easier than he thought. In one fluid move, Tony grabbed one of the pistols from his holster, twirled it in his hand so that he was gripping the slide, and then whipped the gun’s grip against Matheson’s forehead. The druggie yelped like a dog that had just been run over by a station wagon, and fell of the couch. One of the gangsters scoffed, and Tony examined his piece to see if any blood had been transferred.
When he felt Matheson had had enough time to let the pain from the attack sink in, Tony kicked the coffee table away, sending puffs of cocaine into the carpet. Matheson whimpered, but other things were soon on his mind as Tony grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to his knees, his other hand holding his gun properly now, and forcing the barrel against Matheson’s temple. ”Now you get one goddamn thing straight, Matheson. I hope to God you are listening. Don Magliozzi is not pleased by the delay in your payments, and to be frank, he told me to come here and put two slugs through your head before collecting the money. I had to convince him that you weren’t worth the trouble. You hear that? I did you a favor, you piece of shit.”
Matheson couldn’t nod, what with Tony’s hand gripping his hair tight. Tony could smell the stench of the urine Matheson had just released. Romano turned his head, shaking it slightly, before returning to his speech. ”So since I did a favor for you, you’re going to do a favor for me. You’re going to tell me where the money is, and I’m not going to kill you.”
There was a slight pause as Matheson apparently considered his options, though Tony didn’t think there was much for him to consider. Neither did the grip of Tony’s gun, which once again found its way to Matheson’s face, this time cracking his jawbone with a sickly snap. ”I don’t hear you talking, and it’d be a shame if you made me break your jaw before you could tell me what I need to know.”
It was only a few more seconds before Matheson pointed Tony in the direction of the money – hidden in the freezer. Tony smiled, and then shoved Matheson’s head into the edge of the coffee table, knocking him unconscious. One of the thugs began to draw his pistol, but Tony waived him off as he returned his own to its proper place. He walked casually to the freezer and reached into the ice box inside, then pulled out a nice wad of small bills, wrapped in a sandwich bag to keep them dry. Tony smiled and stuffed the package into his inner coat pocket. The two gangsters walked out the door and stood, their hands folded in front of them.
Inside the apartment, a single shot range out.
Edited by: Tony Romano at: 4/7/06 3:09 pm
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