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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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She asked him, her voice betraying a slight tremor of anxiety, "Caleb..." she started, biting her lower lip. "All of these people... mayors, senators, mafia bosses. What is my role in all of this? Do I just mingle with the high society people of Saint Denis? Am I supposed to talk politics with them?"
Caleb walked over to her, his expression softening instantly. He reached out, gently cupping her shoulders to ground her. He nodded his head at that to indicate what she just said is true.
"Yes, sweetheart. You are going to mingle. You are going to smile, drink champagne, and be the most captivating woman in the garden," Caleb instructed softly, his max level Persuasion Skill naturally bleeding into his voice to calm her nerves. "But you do not need to talk about politics, and you certainly do not talk about the business of the mob family. You are going to act exactly like how you read from the books, and also the scenarios in your imagination you have think of before."
He tapped her temple gently with his index finger. "Use that brilliant writer's mind of yours. You are an actress stepping onto a stage. You are going to make it seem like your status is literally above them. These Saint Denis aristocrats think they are the center of the universe because they have old French money. You are going to show them that you are entirely unimpressed by it."
Mary-Beth blinked, her narrative instincts immediately catching onto the premise. "But who am I? What is my story? What's the background that I'm going to use?"
Caleb smiled, weaving the fabricated backstory they had briefly touched upon earlier into a solid, impenetrable history.
"You are Alice McFarlane," Caleb declared, giving her the full, detailed script. "You are going to tell anyone who asks that your family is an incredibly rich, highly established family that owns several massive cattle and horse ranches from a very far state to the west. A place called Texas, specifically. You are old frontier money. Untouchable land barons."
He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. "If they ask how the future Madam of the Saint Denis mafia met me, you tell them a romance. You say that the two of us met at Blackwater. You tell them that you went on a lavish trip there, wanting to see the rapidly modernizing city of Blackwater due to a close friend of yours talking about its high society theaters and expanding railways. You were walking along the promenade, I saw you, and the rest is history."
Mary-Beth was entirely silent for a long moment as she absorbed the scenario that Caleb had prepared. Her dark eyes darted back and forth as her mind rapidly constructed the character of 'Alice McFarlane.' She imagined the sprawling, sun baked ranches of this place called Texas, the crisp, expensive traveling clothes she would have worn to Blackwater, and the haughty, slightly bored elegance of a woman whose family owned half a territory.
It was a flawless cover story. It perfectly explained her refined manners, completely masked her muddy past in the Van der Linde gang, and justified her sudden, meteoric appearance by the Don's side.
After a short time, the anxiety completely vanished from her features, replaced by the thrilling, focused spark of a storyteller bringing a character to life. She nodded her head firmly, her posture instinctively straightening into one of aristocratic pride.
And she says, her voice taking on a slightly more refined, confident cadence, that she will do her best to make sure that everything goes exactly according to what he has made.
Ll"I understand, Caleb," Mary-Beth promised, a small, brilliant smile touching her lips. "I am Alice McFarlane. Heiress to the western plains. I am here because I chose to be, and I am entirely unbothered by the petty squabbles of city politicians."
Caleb laughed, a rich, joyous sound, immensely proud of how quickly she adapted. He nodded his head, kissing her softly on the cheek.
"You are going to be absolutely perfect, just relax and no need to be so tense darling," Caleb assured her. Remember this, you hold all the cards. You are the Queen on the board. Now, we need to get prepared and get dressed. The city is coming to our doorstep."
So after that, time slowly passed by, the quiet morning giving way to the bustling, highly orchestrated chaos of the midday preparations.
The master suite transformed into a flurry of activity. Maids bustled in and out, helping Mary-Beth carefully slip into the breathtaking emerald green velvet gown. They styled her dark hair into an intricate, elegant updo, securing the black velvet hat and its subtle, dramatic veil. They clasped the heavy, glittering emerald choker around her neck, pulling the black silk gloves up past her elbows.
Caleb, in the adjoining dressing room, prepared himself for war masquerading as high society. He did not wear his Vaquero outfit today. He donned a bespoke, midnight blue three piece tuxedo, cut to absolute perfection by a master tailor. A crisp white silk shirt, a dark, perfectly tied cravat, and polished black Oxford shoes completed the look.
He looked like the absolute pinnacle of corporate wealth, but the heavy, custom tooled shoulder holster carrying his twin Navy Revolvers, hidden flawlessly beneath the drape of his suit jacket, reminded anyone who looked closely that he was the deadliest predator in the state.
As the clocks in the mansion chimed the hour, the afternoon finally arrived.
Down below, beyond the high stone walls of the estate, the guest list of the grand celebrations began to arrive in spectacular fashion.
The main boulevard of the Garden District quickly became a spectacle of immense wealth and coordinated power. The wide, cobblestone street was completely filled with parked carriages of every description.
Sleek, black lacquered broughams, opulent open air barouches, and massive, custom-built coaches lined the sidewalks for blocks. Dozens of highly paid drivers and footmen stood by their horses, smoking cigarettes and waiting for their masters.
The security presence was absolutely overwhelming. The mafia's hardened soldiers, dressed in sharp suits to blend in but carrying heavy iron under their coats, stood shoulder to shoulder with the uniformed officers of the city.
The Saint Denis police patrolled heavily in the street and around the entire perimeter of the estate, actively redirecting civilian traffic and ensuring that not a single uninvited soul stepped within a hundred yards of the gates.
It was a terrifying, highly visible display of absolute corruption, the law and the underworld were working in perfect, seamless harmony to protect the Don's party.
Behind the mansion, the treacherous, muddy waters of the Kamassa River were completely locked down. The swamps also had a couple of small, motorized boats and heavy wooden skiffs filled with armed soldiers to patrol it as well, functioning exactly according to Caleb's paranoid, brilliant instructions.
The men on the boats held heavy repeating shotguns across their laps, their eyes scanning the thick reeds and the hanging Spanish moss, ensuring that no assassins could use the bayou as a backdoor into the celebration.
Inside the gates, the atmosphere was electric. The guests had rapidly filled the sprawling mansion courtyard, milling about the grand marble fountains and the pristine gravel driveways. They flowed through the massive front doors, completely packing the opulent first floor of the estate, marveling at the towering crystal chandeliers and the priceless artwork.
But the true heart of the celebration was located in the rear of the property. The massive, meticulously landscaped back garden area was a sight to behold.
Huge, white canvas marquees had been erected on the manicured lawns to provide shade. A full, twenty piece classical orchestra was situated on a raised wooden pavilion, playing lively, sophisticated waltzes that drifted through the humid afternoon air.
The foods and drinks had been served there on dozens of long, white linen draped tables scattered throughout the back garden. Towers of crystal champagne coupes sparkled in the sunlight, while waiters in crisp uniforms navigated the crowds carrying silver trays loaded with Beluga caviar, freshly shucked oysters, and slow roasted meats.
It was a dizzying, intoxicating mix of high society and brutal criminality. Wealthy plantation owners in white linen suits clinked glasses with scarred, terrifying mafia capos.
The Mayor of Saint Denis, a rotund, sweating politician, was currently laughing uproariously at a joke told by one of the family's top enforcers. Everyone was waiting. The tension, the anticipation of seeing the man who had violently seized the city overnight, was palpable in the air.
And high above the mingling crowds, hidden from the immediate view of the garden, the new king watched his subjects.
Inside the mansion, on the second floor, Caleb stood on the grand, sweeping balcony landing that overlooked the massive double staircase of the foyer and offered a commanding view out through the massive rear bay windows down into the garden.
Caleb watched all of this from the upper floor, his sharp blue eyes scanning the mingling guests below. He noted exactly who was talking to whom. He watched the Mayor accepting a glass of champagne from a known smuggler. He watched the Chief of Police nodding respectfully to the family's gambling lieutenants.
His max level Business and Leadership skills processed the social dynamics like a master chess player analyzing a board. They were all complicit. They were all entirely bought and paid for. The city was truly his.
He did not stand alone on the balcony. He was surrounded by the absolute apex of his new empire.
Standing immediately beside him were the pillars of his regime. To his right stood Vincenzo, the newly minted Underboss. Vincenzo's arm was already helad but have the mark sling from the riverboat massacre, but he wore a pristine suit and projected an aura of absolute, lethal authority.
To Caleb's left stood Silvio, acting as the personal enforcer and immovable guard for Caleb the Don. The giant man looked incredibly uncomfortable in his tailored suit, his massive shoulders threatening to burst the seams, his hand resting instinctively near the heavy revolver hidden under his coat.
A few paces behind them stood Lucan, the hardened captain of the elite guards in the mansion, his eyes constantly scanning the lower floors for any signs of trouble.
And finally, hovering near the shadows of the corridor, stood Antonio, the mastermind butler who held the logistical strings of the entire operation.
Caleb took a slow sip from a crystal tumbler of neat Kentucky bourbon. He turned his head slightly, not taking his eyes off the massive crowd below.
Where Caleb asked, his voice a low, calm rumble amidst the distant sound of the orchestra, how the party is going.
"What is the temperature of the room, Antonio?" Caleb inquired smoothly. "Are the politicians sufficiently drunk? Are the capos maintaining discipline?"
Antonio stepped forward, stopping just slightly behind Caleb's shoulder. The butler looked down at the sprawling, opulent chaos in the gardens and the foyer.
"The party is a resounding, unprecedented success, Don McLaughlin," Antonio reported, his voice filled with genuine, profound satisfaction. "The Mayor is currently on his third glass of vintage champagne, and the Chief of Police has already assured three of our lieutenants that the dock patrols will look the other way regarding the inbound shipments next week. The food is being devoured, the music is playing, and there has not been a single breach in the perimeter."
Antonio paused, a small, knowing smile touching his lips. He looked at Caleb, recognizing that the stage was perfectly set. The anticipation had reached a boiling point. The crowd was ripe.
And Antonio says it just needed him to come down.
"The board is perfectly aligned, my Don," Antonio advised respectfully, gesturing toward the sweeping marble staircase that led down to the masses. "The guests are waiting. They are all looking toward the stairs. It simply requires you to descend as the main focus of the celebration... and do your announcement. It is time to formally claim your throne."
Caleb nodded slowly. The bourbon burned pleasantly in his chest, a warm fire of absolute victory. He handed his half-empty tumbler to Silvio without a word.
He turned away from the balcony railing and walked back toward the shadowed corridor leading to the master suite. He extended his hand.
From the shadows, stepping into the light of the chandeliers, emerged Mary-Beth. She was a vision of absolute, heart-stopping perfection. The emerald green velvet, the black lace, the glittering jewels, she looked like a queen born to rule the Gilded Age. She took Caleb's hand, her grip firm and confident, her head held high.
"Are you ready, Alice?" Caleb whispered, a loving, wicked smirk on his face.
"I am ready, Don McLaughlin," Mary-Beth replied, her eyes flashing with thrilling excitement. Together, with the Underboss, the enforcer, and the captain falling into step behind them, Caleb and Mary-Beth walked toward the grand marble staircase, ready to step out into the light and formally show the entire state of Lemoyne exactly who owned their world.
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,322 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 282,992 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 1 Senator Pendleton Sealed Envelope, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -