Felix Feliciani
Goat Suite/Entertainment Room
24 hours ago, Felix had been dragged to the Hotel's doors, bleeding from at least 10 places, limp and seemingly lifeless. Nobody yet knew what had gone down in the district where he was set to ambush and kill the Itosaku-Gumi man Eko Hideki - only that Feliciani had found his target, and somehow, Feliciani had been beaten.
Don Tomassi would not believe his ears at first. Feliciani was sent on this mission over his more loyal hitmen because he was known to be the most formidable killer under his hire. So legendary was his reputation that despite never being blessed in, the Don had paid for his residence, the upkeep of his weapons, a membership to Hotel Zeus, and a newly-minted just-in-case membership to Zeus' brother Hotel Ares.
When the reality of this defeat finally sunk in, Tomassi would thank his stars he'd paid that extra expense. In the grand scheme, he knew Feliciani was merely an associate, but for the Don's continuing power, Felix was as valuable as almost any of his senior Capos.
Giuseppe - one of the enforcers accompanying his trip to Japan - had begged the man at the door to also let one more enter with him. Stefano, the other enforcer accompanying Feliciani, had been unexpectedly wounded only moments prior. When he had tried to take the hatchet from Felix's hand, the hitman had slashed the side of Stefano's neck open before passing out, and now Stefano was bleeding bad.
But the Don hadn't bought Stefano a membership with Hotel Ares, just as he hadn't bought one for Giuseppe, same as he didn't pay to give any of his Soldiers memberships to Hotel Zeus in Rome.
24 hours ago, Giuseppe ripped the scarf from Feliciani's neck, left him with the doorman and stormed back to attend to Stefano, turning pale behind a dumpster. As Felix was taken in for treatment, Giuseppe wished he could have broken the hitman's neck then and there, wished the truth could have been kept from the Don - or better yet, that the Don would have
forgiven him had he done so.
He wasn't family. And as low ranked as the enforcers were, they
were family, and they had been attacked trying to save the life of some mindless goddamn thug who'd failed at his mission.
As he wrapped Felix's scarf around Stefano's bleeding neck, Giuseppe silently prayed that Felix Feliciani would not survive the night...
---
12 hours ago, Felix had woken up, a weak but bright smile on his face, foreshadowing a speedy recovery to come. He sat up, and recalled what had transpired the previous night. The man called Eko Hideki, from a gang just like the Tomassi Family - how he'd spent all his ammo attempting to land even one hit on him. He'd been incredibly fast though! Every time he pulled the trigger, it seemed like he'd already found a new spot for cover. Felix had met people that good before, but usually once he pulled out the hatchet Father Federico had gifted him, even the strongest were caught off guard - too slow to save themselves. Dead meat.
But last night it had been the opposite! Stab stab stab, but this time, he was on the wrong end! Even with the hatchet and up close, this Yakuza man had been too fast for him to seriously hurt, much less kill. Felix couldn't remember what had become of his hatchet. Without it, he felt somewhat naked and anxious.
To keep himself calm, he simply thought of how much he'd like to have a second try at fighting Eko. Daydreaming about how it would go. He wanted to break both his arms. Stuff a big rock in his mouth and punch his jaw until it tumbled out. Whip his back with a sandpaper-lined belt until his skin fell off, twist his body in two at the waist, pull out his spine and carve something vulgar into every vertebra...
His thoughts were thus consumed - even as his smile neither broke nor widened - until a pudgy Japanese nurse with a mess of tangled hair entered the room.
"Good morning, Signor. How are you feeling?"
She spoke fluent Italian, albeit with a stiff, robotic accent. Felix found it delightful, and at that moment felt much like a secret agent. Although his wounds still ached, and the swelling from the uppercut to his jaw in particular made him even less eager to speak than ever, he replied that he felt
"Splendid."
The nurse nodded, and made a few quick notes on a clipboard. She continued:
"You will be staying in the Goat Suite until you're judged fit for discharge. Is there anything you'd like to request be brought to your room?"
"My hatchet. It is black and silver, and should have been near my person before I was brought in."
"Your hatchet was taken by your friends. Guests aren't permitted to have weapons here, Signor Goat. What I meant was any food, luxuries within reason, or-"
"Chocolate milk."
---
6 hours ago, Felix had been judged well enough to leave his bed, to find the Goat Suite and the carton of milk that had been kindly bought for him. He heard, to no small amount of disappointment, that one of the bastards who had gone with him to oversee and translate had stolen his scarf - and with a heightened degree of disappointment, also found that there were no scarves among the clothing in his room.
To some degree, he trusted the doctors around here, even though any one of the myriad of white patches around his body felt as though they might burst forth and spew blood again at any moment... But knowing those rogues had their hands on his property - the scarf, the hatchet - and the gnawing fear that they might not give them back... that was the worse pain! Felix was beginning, against his better spirits, to dislike this place. It was not a good place to be alone for sure, and he needed immensely to distract himself.
And so at the present time...
Growing bored, Felix put on a white, button-up shirt and exited the Goat Suite to look for something to do. He wandered the halls with a painful limp still haunting his stride, until he caught wind of... with a renewed smile, an
entertainment room.
Silently, he went from room to room, until he peered into the open door of the place he sought - there was a man and a girl inside, but what truly caught his attention was the game flashing on the television in the center of the room. Music thumping from the speakers and brightly-colored supercars dancing across the screen, Felix became ecstatic at the thought of driving through international streets, empty of all riff-raff, in a race against another brave driver for fame and glory.
He noticed the girl inviting the man to play and imwardly cursed his luck to have arrived here third - but the man, with what Felix recognizes as the hint of an Italian accent, declined. As the man left, Felix crept inside. Before the fellow Italian disappeared from view, Felix pondered the idea of thumbing his nose at the ingrate and yelling out an expletive in his mother tongue... but his mind went back to the words of the man who raised him:
There will be many things in this life you cannot control, Felix... but nothing but you can stop you from remaining polite!
Remembering how well he'd been treated in this place, and how well these words had always served him in this strange, new world he had been adopted into - he held his tongue.
Instead, he walked silently to the back of the girl already sitting at the console, tapping her on the shoulder, fully intending to then duck away from her field of view as a trick before introducing himself.
Succeed or fail at this trick, upon getting her attention, Felix mimed holding a controller of his own, twiddling its sticks, and saying words in English he hoped were universal enough for anyone to understand:
"Player 2?"