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Mafia Proverbs

"All Power To The Proverb!" "All Hail The Ragnarok Law Mafia!" Asha Exodia is at the beginning of his chosen path since reaching The Law's Maturity. His sights are set on the highest pinnacle that The Family has to offer, and will not let anything or anyone hold him back. However, is there something lurking deep within the psyche of the determined sixteen year old? It is witnessed by his Prodigal Family, but is without answers to the beast's existence. Even still, his apotheostic potential is too great to be halted or denied. Watch as the legend becomes.

QuanieFSpace_XX99 · Urban
Not enough ratings
21 Chs

The Zeppelins: Whole Lotta Love

Part II

"Z.Z."

Amidst the chaos and the strain the entire situation caused, Zza heard her mother's coarse voice. Even thru the loud reverberation of the screeching eagle and galloping horses, she could hear the soft tone calling for her.

"Z.Z."

She heard it again.

The Panamanian Aztec moved closer to her mother, her father continued swerving side to side at high speeds to dodge traffic while gushing blood from his detonated wrist.

"I'm right here, Mama." The seven year old assured her progenitor that she was by her side, only looking into the matching silver eyes they shared.

The Mexican Misfit removed his unbuttoned jean shirt and wrapped it around the gushing flesh where his hand used to be, all while steering with his knees.

The speedometer read 140.

"We are strong girls, remember? Lead eyes, Lead everything. We don't get scared."

Slowly, surely and with her own strength, Zonita leaned up on the blood soaked leather. Mistress Menace looked over at her left shoulder with a somewhat curious face, seeing the electric unicorn blanket she made being held by her daughter's bloody hands. Of course, she felt pain where the pressure was being applied, but she couldn't speak about strength without demonstrating it.

Something she would instill in her child whenever a situation called for strength.

To Zonita Zeppelin-Dycer, life itself is a situation that calls for strength.

There is no way she could show her daughter anything but that.

"Awwwww." Mistress Menace jokingly moaned to Zza. She wanted to show a smile to exacerbate her calm mood, but the laceration on her face wouldn't allow her to extend or flex any face muscles. "Your tortilla got all wet and dirty again, now how will I use my bedtime burrito body pillow?" She asked with a wink, only attempting to show a calm energy.

Tears fell from the seven year old's metallic eyes as she watched her mother force a positive mood, trying not to let out any audible noises that indicates sadness. Hearing the lady, whose been called her twin by those that know them intimately, speak about the two of them cuddling with the custom sewn blanket made the Panamanian Aztec grit her teeth and wipe her face.

Zza knew, though.

The pain her mother felt. How much blood her twin was losing and the repercussions of such. All the energy she was putting in staying strong so that her offspring could also keep her spirits up.

Zza knew.

Even more of a reason for her to be tough.

Lead eyes, Lead everything.

She used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes and nose again before kissing her mother's temple, mainly to show that she was staying strong.

Zza gave her mother a long grin.

Although it made it feel like her gash was ripping more, Zonita returned the smile as wide as she could.

The seven year old wanted to cry harder as blood spilled from her progenitor's open facial laceration.

But that further solidified the need for strength.

As Zonita sat up slowly, trying to adjust herself on the crimson painted leather, she looked over to her middle school sweetheart.

"Are you alright, Darling?" She asked in a tone littered with different emotions once she got a look at his numbed wrist. Mistress Menace lovingly touched the portrait of herself on the forearm of The Mexican Misfit's damaged limb.

The cosmic design coated across the tattoo Zonita's skin was covered in both The Misfit and The Menace's blood. All of the flowing hair on the portrait was scalped off with Mega's wrist detonation.

"Fuck the hand! Are you okay, Keiko?!" He asked his Panamanian madam, always referring to her by her middle name when in an emotional or inebriated form.

Especially when stuck in both.

"I'll live, Darling. I'll live." She assured him in a soft tone while her attention stayed glued to the Mexican's injuries, baring an expression concocted of every glum emotion available.

"Hey! None of that!" The Misfit told The Menace upon noticing the sorrow she wore, snatching the disfigured arm from her grasp. "We'll worry about that later! Kill the motha fucka that did this to us! The pussy trying to take our child from us! BLOW THE THOUGHT OUT OF HIS FUCKING HEAD!!!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, saliva spilling from the corner of his mouth whilst howling the demand.

Zonita stared at her middle school sweetheart as he swerved thru traffic, her expression unchanging specifically because of his demeanor. She didn't like the form he was presently in for a multitude of reasons that she witnessed many many times before, knowing just how destructive Mega can be while this far gone.

She couldn't say it out loud so she could keep from piling on her twin's worries.

But, Mistress Menace kept thinking it over and over again.

"Don't lose, Mega. Don't lose."

Zza who, upon studying her parents' interaction, looked at the dismembered hand seated right next to her. At that moment, she thought about all the movies and shows she has seen in a situation such as this one, when a body part is put on ice to reserve for reattachment. Although she wasn't too familiar as to why they did it, but she figured the same thing could be done for her Papa.

Acting fast with what was available, The Panamanian Aztec reached under both front seats. From under the passenger seat, the seven year old removed her metal Ed, Edd 'N Eddy lunch box. She removed the cellophane plastic from both the sandwiches she had, licking the mayo and PBNJ from them respectfully.

From under the driver seat, Zza removed a titanium self refrigerating cooler. On top of the weighty ice box were blue and red twin karambit knives, two pink switchblades and gold duct tape.

On all of the shady item, there was what seemed to be blood on every piece present.

Without trying to wonder what that stuff could have been used for, the red skinned youth grabbed the tape and shoveled everything else to the floor. She looked at her father's hand, hesitating to even reach for the blood spewing member. When she did muster up the strength to do so, the flapping of the hanging skin made her gag in disgust. Using the unused side of both the plastic wraps to cover the severed area of the hand, she stuck the tape around the bottom of the cellophane to keep it air tight.

Some of the blood splashed on her hands, floral dress and pink leggings, making her gag a little more.

Once she was able to compose herself again, the Panamanian Aztec popped the top of the cooler, her father's DNA smearing the latch. She removed the beers, water and soda occupying the interior, and replaced them with the covered hand. After positioning the ice packs closer to it, she shut the lid and pushed it back under the driver seat.

As her twin was tending to her middle school sweetheart's severed member, Zonita reached in her tote bag and removed a black Glock 9. She wanted to use the beloved MAC-10 her mother bought for her, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to shoot properly without the use of both hands. As the Mustang started to inch closer to them, maneuvering thru traffic with professional precision, she aimed her weapon and fired upon the approaching metal horse.

In the middle of the madness, Mega stirred with his stumped forearm as he reached in his khaki's left pocket.

A white powder substance was in both of them.

"Adult Sugar," is how it's referred in the house of Zeppelin.

Zza's bane.

Zonita's freedom.

And Mega's undefeated kryptonite.

Part II