∂яєѕѕє∂.тσ.кιℓℓ on AniRoleplay.com - www.aniroleplay.com/nice_one_hun ∂яєѕѕє∂.тσ.кιℓℓ
Blood makes you related. Loyalty...now, that makes you family.

Female
35 years old
Bulkeley, Saint George
Barbados

Last Login:
January 03 2024

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    ∂яєѕѕє∂.тσ.кιℓℓ's Interests
Music
Groups: Russo Family,

     ∂яєѕѕє∂.тσ.кιℓℓ's Details
Characters: Nice Russo
Verses: Mafia, Crime, Thriller/Suspense, Original
Length: Multi Para, Novella
Genre: Adventure, Anime, Drama, Psychological, Thriller/Suspense,
Member Since:May 19, 2013




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   ∂яєѕѕє∂.тσ.кιℓℓ's Blurbs
About me:
Everyone is free to join the Russo Family, just ask me! We could even fit an RP around it, if you want. :D


Drugs, sex, profanity, and a whole lot of other crazy sh*t.


Name: Nice [Prounouced Niece] Russo
Father: Randolph Russo (Deceased,Died from cancer)
Mother: Natalie Zirilli (Deceased, Assassinated)
Age:43
Nationality: Italian-American
Born In: Genova, Italy
Currently Located In: New York, New York

Species: Human
DOB: 8/18
Orientation:Bi-curious
Status1st Marriage/Divorced from Alexander Marino
2nd Marriage: Widowed--Husband assassinated/bombed by Michael McBride on her birthday
3rd Marriage: Divorced from Michael McBride
Currently: Single

Offspring:
Bianca
Liam
Felice

Likes: Green, money, cigarettes, clothes
Dislikes: Taking orders, being undermined or not thought of as the heiress of Russo Family, Claire Standfield, little children
Occupation:-Former- Don of the Russo Family
Hair:Blonde
Eyes: Green
Tattoos: Russo Family's rose symbol at her waist.

..Born With A Silver Spoon..
That's exactly how Nice Russo was born. During her childhood, Nice didn't yearn for anything and always got what she wanted. Even when her mother died in an assassination attempt, against her father, she didn't drop a tear even thoguh she was only ten years old. Her father was Boss to a mafia group called Sons of Saints. Earlier in the years, he'd been threatened a lot because the group was fresh and new to the drug cartel scene, but now he's made a name for himself. Nice was given ever luxury you could ask for; private school, bodyguards, any toy she wanted and, as she grew older, boys. There was no lie, Nice was a goregeous girl and she used her looks to her advantage, making boys melt in the palm of her hand.

Nice was patiently waiting for her father to leave the drug sting in her hands, so she could get a hold of the money and title that came with it. Her father refused, stating that because she was a woman she couldn't handle it. Nice was furious, but her father was just as stubborn as she was. Her father finally came to the conclusion, that he would leave everything to her new husband. Nice didn't care either way, so long as she got the money and could sustain her lifestyle.

That's when she met a man named Claire Stanfield, well, she'd heard about him before. He was an up-incoming genius doctor that wrote a thesis that earned him much honor and prestige. Nice was attracted to the money and prestige first, and soon ended up marrying him. Suddenly, her world came crumbling down when Claire was fired and his name drug through the mud. To save her own face, she divorced him and soon got re-married to a National League baseball player, Al Carson. That relationship was bound for failure, Al has been abusive to her the entire year and a half they'd been married. Though, she can't go to her father and complain about it--because of her own pride--and she can only think of the man that she left.

Now, she's on a mission to marry Dr.Stanfield for love now, get her father's inheritance and live happily ever after. But, of course, there are always obstacles. Though to succeed, she is willing to step on, crush, ****, or ruin any that get in her way. Our little Princess~

The Russo Family (Under Construction)

Click to Learn More

The Gents
Dante Sygns-The Lap Dog
Zayne Raynault-The Leash
Vincent Ackermann-Interrogator/Informant
Michael McBride-Husband
Marco Lombardi-The Collector
Fino-The Hitman
Carlo DeMarco-The Outsider & Crybaby<
Arthur Tomcat-The Unofficial Hostage/Associate
Darven Lucius Decimus Black-The Archangel

The Ladies
Bianca Russo-Heir to the Russo Family
Eliza Chevalier-Secretary
Diana Miller--The "Maid"
Katarina du Couteau--The "Help"






Who I'd like to meet:

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obkatiekat

𝓁𝑜𝒷𝑜

𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳.

Dreams

Monster[s]

S u m i r e

Be Not Afraid.

𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲✦Kɪɴᴇsɪs

-Hð† Mêss🔥

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✨𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚛’𝚜 Brat 🍎

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𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱 !

𝐇𝐘𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐘.

‎ ‎ 𝘐𝘊𝘌𝘽𝙐𝙍𝙉.

◝𝐋𝐔𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈♡𝐔𝐒。

𝒎𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆 ✧˖°

ϟ 🇹‌🇷‌🇦‌🇮‌🇳‌

For the Light!

ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷ ᵏᵃᵍᵉ—ˣ

Legendary Ace ☆

友 The Warrior Of Hope ㊝ ™

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

악마

𝑨𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒍

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𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖉

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𝒔𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤.

🐟 ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ

𝕺𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖔 𝖀𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖍𝖆

Monkey D Ace

Junya

Hatsune Miku

Purple Rose

Laura

ᴇxɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟɪꜱᴍ.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖鬼、




∂яєѕѕє∂.тσ.кιℓℓ's Friends Comments
Displaying 10 of 43 comments (View All | Add Comment)
-†-

Jul 13th 2022 - 8:48 PM


//only barely and definitely not. Trying to unfuxk my situation before entirely reestablishing myself here. Almost there. Then I will properly ruin your life. Respectfully.
-†-

Jul 13th 2022 - 12:34 AM


//because i've been an absent asshole who sorely misses you and doesn't have flowers to give

-†-

Nov 22nd 2021 - 11:15 PM


Fingertips contained a legion of nerves to sense the world around and interpret the sensations into cognizance. The scar beneath his thumb was stark and thick against her supple skin, the edges a reflection of the sort of woman Nice was. But the texture was not all his fingertips registered. The heat of her flesh was a welcome respite to the emptiness he felt without her presence, but it was the gravity of her withered smile that set his nerves aflame. Santi rarely saw her smile. She was a firm woman with an empire bowing below her feet, a kingdom constructed from fire and brimstone—there was little room for smiling, he was certain of it; but the moments where she broke… it was sunlight cresting the horizon to greet the dawn. 

This was not that smile.

It was brief with her chuckle, a traitorous crack her otherwise stoic persona, and the weight of what she carried burned his skin, her words saturated with a sadness he was all too familiar with. She’d been through so much, and Santi was here for none of it. Not to aid her with her struggles, not to clean up the mess that came her way, not to comfort her in her times of need…

Santi slipped his hand from her cheek to cup the back of her head. With gentle coaxing, the priest pulled her close, the distance between them extinct as his lips came to press against her forehead. She was strong, but Santi knew even stones gave way to water eventually.

“I’m so sorry, Nice,” he breathed, voice hush and remorseful as fingers stiffened within her silver tresses. Hesitant to draw himself from her, Santi pried himself to stand alongside his Doña, hand slipping from behind her head to curve against her waist as he urged her from the vestibule. In an effort to entertain her thoughts on anything else, Santi tucked away his contrition and offered a menial though well attempted sh*t-eating grin.

“So… you missed my voice? I had a feeling you liked me, though I wasn’t entire sure on account of all the bodily harm you cause me.” 

 
pen•ance
(n.) voluntary self-punishment for having done wrong


 
-†-

Nov 7th 2021 - 2:29 PM


 

He chuckled, incapable of holding back the amusement he felt under her words. The bite was still there in her voice, and Santi felt relief at the familiarity she managed to maintain despite the ocean of time between them. The amusement blossomed into a smile, evidence of the comfort that lifted the weight from his shoulders and allowed the priest to stand upright once more.

But the comfort dissipated as her words cut through the thin cloak like a hot knife. His smile faltered as he studied her close. Nice was never the sort to express herself directly, and it was something Santi could appreciate more than most, and relished in the discretion that was still present regardless of her stance. She, like him, missed the company, but it was evident in her tone that he had failed her. 

Once more he smiled, her venom a luxury he could not afford and yet was blessed by it. Hands rose in meek defense. “If I had anyone to collect my things, I would have done so.” The statement felt like barbed wire on his tongue, a truth so raw it permeated the corners of his smile. “But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to come back.” A joke most certainly, but the preacher felt the need to remind her that he, too, maintained his salacious hostility in her presence. Still, he would not seize his hand as it reaches out to caress Nice’s cheek, thumb smoothing over the blemish of her scar.

Severity possessed his features once more. “What happened?”

pen•ance
(n.) voluntary self-punishment for having done wrong
 

 

-†-

Nov 3rd 2021 - 4:34 PM


 
“Busy woman. You waste no time,” he chuckled, the crackle in his voice betraying disquiet lingering in the background acoustic.  Truth be told, besides his endless futile attempts at garnering some semblance of normalcy in his life, Santi didn’t entirely know why he was here; rather, he understood the why, he simply didn’t know the substance behind it. Perhaps said normalcy was what he sought, a place amongst organization, however, if he sat down and allowed himself the opportunity to explore his emotions, he’d soon discover it was a loneliness he sought to fill with the only person who seemed to make his dark and dreary days just a little less dreary.

Hands now liberated, Santi found himself unsure what to do with them. The default was to stuff them in his pockets or callously fold his arms across his chest, and yet neither action could be performed thanks to the goddamn anxiety that shot through his nerves. A muted curse was issued, and the priest relented to clasping his hands before him, fingers fidgeting subtly against themselves.

“I missed you.” 

The phrase was never a lie when ushered unto Nice, but the words lacked the attitude customary for the caustic priest. The words were sincere, his tone like that was a boy who’d wronged a familiar and felt remorse for his actions. Santi cast his eyes down, that same emotion resonating over the hardened lines of his face. “And I came to ask your forgiveness for abandoning my duties to your family.”

Eyes rose once more to meet Nice’s viridescents, wistful, wanting and woeful. “For abandoning you when you needed it most.”

 
pen•ance
(n.) voluntary self-punishment for having done wrong



 
-†-

Nov 3rd 2021 - 12:30 AM


 
Physiology ceased under her gaze, a lasting moment he both adored and disdained in equal parts. He was surprised, however, to see that fierce vision dampen with her quiet retreat. Curiosity piqued, but santi was smart enough to know to not question quarter when given. Like a dog given command, the priest nodded and promptly but cooly allowed himself inside, carefully shutting the door behind him despite the agitation in his limbs urging him to slam it shut. 

Hazel eyes, once vibrant with unbridled, unapologetic hostility, glanced about the estate with renewed disdain for the lavish and eccentric. Always a simple man that took pleasure in one form or another, living life as basically as he could, yet being surrounded by luxurious held a peculiar feeling of nostalgia and a particular sensation of comfort.

The warmth that blossomed within his ribs was stunted by an overarching feeling of regret and underlined by graciousness.

Turning his attention to the other, Santi extended the arrangement to his Doña. “I saw these and thought of you. Because… tu sabes… you’re always in white and your hair stands out stark against it.” He paused to glance at Nice’s hair. “Roses may have been a better idea.”
 
pen•ance
(n.) voluntary self-punishment for having done wrong


 
-†-

Nov 2nd 2021 - 10:22 PM


 
Seconds became an eternity the longer he knocked, the sound fueling the nerves in his fingertips to twitch anxiously against the floral arrangement. Perhaps no one was home. Diana would have opened the door by now-- someone should have opened the door by now, but his beckoning remained unnoticed and it settled poorly against the preacher’s face in the form of a genuine scowl. 

“Que puta desperdicia de tiempo,” growled Santi. This was a mistake, he thought, and as he made to turn to leave, the familiar click of the door seized his advances, and stopped his breath entirely.

She’d aged, a fine wine crafted by dedicated vintners, a lasting Venus marked by time still immaculate in her beauty against the priest’s crumbling Rome. Nice’s hair was no longer a coronal flare of sunlight crowning a distinguished woman, but a silken moon-kissed veil of beauty accentuating a fearsome persona lent by the not-unnoticed scar marking her face. For a moment, Santi was lost in her visage, a short-lived distraction grounded by the realization that she, like he, were not spared by Time. Had it truly been that long? Had Santi actually been remiss of his promise for so long? Remorse cast its hand upon his shoulders and for an instant the same resonated upon his face, but with a composing sigh, Santi angled himself rightly before her.

“Doña—“ His voice cracked. He coughed. “It’s been… too long, and yet you still dazzle a sky full of stars.” A brief moment, silence thick like nectar though not near as sweet. “… can I come in?”
 
pen•ance
(n.) voluntary self-punishment for having done wrong


 
-†-

Nov 1st 2021 - 11:18 PM


Glowering eyes stared at the face of the palisade doors as natural as the breaths that filled his lungs. He wasn’t irate—not in this moment, at least—though something akin to unease urged his heart to beats just that much faster with every second he idled. Not the terribly disheveled appearance he maintained, Santi presented himself neatly, priest-ware approaching godliness in appearance and silver-streaked hair brushed back into some semblance of a bun despite the bits of foliage that betrayed a failed attempt at scaling the wall to crawl in through the window; the front door was sufficient in such cases.

With an exasperated grunt, the priest knocked earnestly, an arrangement of calla lilies bundled in ornate parchment and bound together with a blue silk ribbon cradled in his arm listlessly. It’d been some time since the priest had seen her, and he’d be lying to himself if he wasn’t at least minutely concerned that she’d boot his from the property, though he’d wondered why she hadn’t before. Still, a modicum of what felt like hope kept him anchored in place amidst the storm of frustration and apprehension that nagged him to drop the attempts at reconciliation, but it was that same nagging persistent, invasive thought that urged him stand his ground.

It’d been too long, and rapprochement began with effort. And so he stood, shifting his weight to and fro between legs until he could stand the silence no more and began to knock incessantly until the doorway opened.  
 
pen•ance
(n.) voluntary self-punishment for having done wrong


 
⚞ʜ.ᴘ.⚟

Aug 23rd 2021 - 10:32 AM


| Greetings Ma'm. I added you so I should reach out. You seem of violent sorts and I kinda dig that. I have some prompts up but if they are not your style I would love to discuss them. I do ask that you sign my rules before we interact. This lets me know you understand my themes and are confirming you are 18+. Thank you. |

THE CODE | RULES | READ FIRST


𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖘.

Mar 14th 2021 - 7:29 PM


//Why hello there. I'm awkward, and you are? 
Anywho~ I'm trying to breathe life into this muse again.
And maybe make friends.
I dunno...pretty bad at socializing. 
A for effort? 

Hit me up if you'd like to write a story together though,
or we can banter, or edit something. Stuff. 
Ya know?
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