Teenagers in Italy Roleplay (closed for joining)

My phone buzzed and I sighed, picking it up after rolling of my bed. An unknown ID came up, and I decided not to pick it up. If I picked up, they might track me.

I wandered through the halls in the top floor, looking for a nice room. The sunlight slants pleasantly through the windows and open doors, and the floral wallpaper adds a sweet, homey touch. Noticing how a part of the house sticks out more than the rest, I go to explore it, and find a peaceful, simply decorated hall with three rooms. I peek my head into one room, and instantly know that this is the one.

The room has Amber-tinted wood paneled floors and walls that dome slightly at the ceiling, covered in pretty cream, gray, and brown wallpaper. A huge window dominates one wall, with curtains sweeping the floor, and a bookshelf sits next to a desk and a bed. I sigh, content. This is perfect.

Addi set her backpack down on the desk, then opened the closet doors, which had clothes for her. She grabbed some gray yoga pants and a white hoodie, they went into the bathroom to take shower.

Florence persisted, trying to reach them.

I unpack my bags, changing into a sweet, casual true blue blouse, straightening my curled and dyed red hair and putting on beaded sandals.

I get up to go raid the kitchen, putting the address on the map on my phone so I know I can find it later. I lower the staircase and walk down the steps, then raise it back up once I'm off and walk down the top floor hallway towards the stairs. Once I find the bottom floor, I end up in the living room and take a left into a kitchen with all sorts of modern appliances, stocked with food. I wonder how long Addison's been planning this for, and shake my head. I don't get to ask questions, not with these girls, no matter how much I liked them. I find the fridge and open it up, taking out a menagerie of berries and a jug of almond milk, then plug in the blender on the counter and make three smoothies. Afterward, I prepare a healthy dinner of lemon fish and salad with vinegar dressing and call out for the girls.
"Annoying Capulet Girl! Runaway Prisoner Lady! I made you healthy people food!"

I hear Oakley calling and can’t help but smile. No, no. You are not worthy of friends, you do not deserve them, stop smiling. I run down the stairs, hair done up in a side-braid. “Did someone say food?!”

"Darn machine!" Florence redialed, and persisted.

"That's right ladies! I said food! Get your butts down here before I eat it all!"

Addi practically flew down the stairs, saying "Did someone say food?" at the same time Adelaide said it.

I set the large dining room table and set the smoothies in the fridge for dessert. I smelled like dust and coffee after my long day of adventure, and I knew my body was somewhat weak from fatigue. But in the Montague family, food was a peace offering. A sign of allies.

I sit down at the table, the heavenly smell of the food wafting around is. “Thanks, Ms. Rebel.”, I smile at her.

Addi sat down silently, echoing a thanks to Oakley.

"No problem." I take my seat. "I love to cook…" I trail, eyes suddenly filled with distant sadness at the realization. "I - I just never get the chance to." I steel myself, smiling albeit the close call. "It's lemon skillet fish, with a salad."

“Sounds delicious.”, I smile gently.

Florence continued to dial.

Addi looked up at Oakley and gave her a small smile. "Well you can cook to your heart's content here." Then she looked back down a her plate.
(Get ready for some heart-wrenching flashbacks. Muahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahaha)

I automatically dig into my food, without saying grace. We didn't pray much in my business unless you count the occasional cry out to Saints in the middle of a mission. I'd done it myself a few times. Got shot in the shoulder in the fall of my year as a fifteen-year-old, and cried out to Saint Jerome Emiliani, the saint of abandoned and orphaned children. It was a rough year.

I blink, looking up.

My father had been a good man, once upon a time. He was still the Montague mafia boss, but he was benevolent. It was a dirty business, sure, but he was fair and just in his dealings. After my mom had died at the hands of some Capulet, I'm not sure which, he'd gone mad. All at once he stopped telling me stories about the Italian culture, we'd stopped going on adventures in Verona, and he'd stopped being my father. The death of Emma Bianchi, my mother, ruined him. One day I remember in particular, about a week after it had happened.

I tilt my head, eyes softening slightly. “You okay?”, I ask quietly, surprised at my own gentleness.

I look up, eyes wide. "What?" Did Adelaide Capulet just ask a seriously kind question?
I sputter. "Uh, yeah." My eyes soften, my guard drooping. "I'm fine."

Addi was silent, eating her food slowly. "Shut up child! You lost the privilege to speak when you stood up for a Montague! You're not my daughter. I can't even look at you. You have disgraced the Capulet line." Her father kicked her in the stomach, sending her flying into the wall. She coughed up blood, and her father smiled evily, then left, locking the door behind him.

Surprising and even scaring myself further, I reach over to squeeze her hand comfortingly. What are you doing?! “You don’t look it.” What has gotten into me?!

Addi was silent, eating her food slowly. "Shut up child! You lost the privilege to speak when you stood up for a Montague! You're not my daughter. I can't even look at you. You have disgraced the Capulet line." Her father kicked her in the stomach, sending her flying into the wall. She coughed up blood, and her father smiled evily, then left, locking the door behind him.

Noooo

Addi was silent, eating her food slowly. "Shut up child! You lost the privilege to speak when you stood up for a Montague! You're not my daughter. I can't even look at you. You have disgraced the Capulet line." Her father kicked her in the stomach, sending her flying into the wall. She coughed up blood, and her father smiled evily, then left, locking the door behind him.

Noooo

(YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I SHALL TORTURE YOU IN EVERY RP. BC THIS IS HOW I DEVELOP CHARACTER.)

"Answer the phone, hotties!"

I'd walked into my father's office one evening to check on him, the house bleak albeit the sunshine crawling in. "Papa?" I'd asked, an innocent ten-year-old with black curly hair down to my knees, and wide green eyes. That day was the first time I'd witnessed death. There was a plastic, clear sheet on the floor and a gold-plated revolver in my father's hand, a vacant expression on his face. There was a young man on the plastic sheet, a gunshot wound in his head, and scarlet, clotting blood all over the place leaking from his body. His eyes slowly travelled up to mine, taking in my horrror.
"Take a good look, Oakley Desirae Montague. That is not the last rotting corpse you'll ever see. When you grow up, I'll make sure you know to create them, too."
And then I screamed in violent, awful terror.
And he'd laughed darkly, the doors to his office shutting me out, shutting me away from him, for the first time.

Adelaide reaches for my hand over the table, and I let her take it, grateful for the extension of friendship and company. "You don't look it." She says.
"Don't worry about me." I smile. "Besides. I'm Oakley Montague, of the dreaded Scarlet!" I laugh a little, giving them my signature crooked smile. "We've all got our demons."

"Answer the phone, hotties!"

(Dear Abigail Dara,
I'm not trying to be rude or anything but the girls are just as smart as your character and would not pick up the phone for a million bucks.)

"Answer the phone, hotties!"

(Dear Abigail Dara,
I'm not trying to be rude or anything but the girls are just as smart as your character and would not pick up the phone for a million bucks.)

(She wants to apologize)