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Description

Hello. My name is Pisa Cezanne. Weird name; I know. I was either named that because my mom craved a lot of pizza when she was pregnant with me but didn't want to just name me "Pizza" outright, or it's because my parents decided to consummate their marriage on the Tower of Pisa, and my dad banged my mom so hard and so long that the tower leaned a few more inches closer to the ground--depends on who you ask. Um... Oh yeah! And my dad is a crime boss.

NO~ It's nothing like The Godfather... Okay, maybe it is a little. Except, in our case, my mom was the brains of the outfit and my dad made sure that the plan was carried out.

  Don't believe everything you read in the newspaper and magazines. My parents weren't monsters. They were just trying to help.

The government doesn't always hold its citizens' best interests at heart. At some point or another--probably before I was born--slime people were discovered mingling among the common citizens, disguised like anyone else. Since they weren't made of muscle and bone, nobody seemed to bat an eye when they were being captured and experimented on in research facilities. Somewhere along the line, someone got the grand idea to chop up these slime people into little bits and use them to make various products; usually food products. While humans come in different skin tones and body builds, slime people come in different flavors that were quite palatable; pineapple, strawberry, orange, butter, cheese, flan--I even knew an aloe vera guy, weirdly enough.

My parents saw what was happening and put their foot down. Slime people were still people, but it was pointless attacking the corporations directly, because the legal system is just a holy hell of red tape, and every day we would be waiting for some lawyer to take up our case, another slime person was being reduced to jelly candy. So, they helped the slime people find pieces of their bodies, gave them new identities, helped them find jobs and homes, even reconnect them with their families if we could find every member. And we didn't twist anyone's arm and make them work for us as slaves. They were loyal to us because we helped them when no one else would. We became a big family that looked out for each other. Every slime person we helped reconstruct was like getting a new aunt, uncle, or cousin for me, and one of my favorite parts of the day was having a chat with them when I came home before starting on my homework.

Finally, some information leaked out to the public that slime people were being put in their smoothies and ice creams and cream cheese, and we thought that meant things were going to be looking up for the slime people. They were finally going to get the dignity and pride they deserved. But then... I don't even know how it happened. One minute, I'm doing my homework at my dad's bar, snacking on some nachos and the next thing I know, the police come bursting in, telling everyone to put their hands in the air and drop any weapons. Personally, I think some mo-fo in the police station was pissed off about Adelmo--one of the many slime men we saved--becoming police chief, so he decided to attack the people who helped him. I know that Adelmo would never have betrayed us like that...

Thankfully, no one died, but my parents were both arrested. The prosecution tried to accuse them of all kinds of things, but the worst they could do was get them for falsifying documents. It's not a terribly long prison sentence, but I will have graduated high school by the time they get out. I might even be in my mid-twenties.

As I'm sure you can guess, I became a ward of the state. Being the daughter of a crime boss, I wasn't exactly a high-end item for those looking to adopt, so I settled into a group home. I don't know if I'm just really good at sneaking around or the place just has really bad security, but every once in a while, I would sneak out to get a slice of pizza from Piece o' Pizza (original name; I know).

  "Why sneak out?" you might be wondering. "Why not just go during your free time?"... Because I love that place... It reminds me of the good times, when I actually had a family to come home to. It's about the closest thing I can get to home cooking, and when I eat a slice, I start to cry, which is really embarrassing. Thankfully, the guy who owns the shop is a friend of the family's, so he doesn't mind when I come by past closing. He will make a fresh pie for me and let me eat in peace while he goes about his business.

This night was going to be like any other. I was gonna slip away, go to the pizzaria, eat (my feelings), then come back to the group home and into bed. I never have to worry about running into any trouble. The area isn't exactly hospitable for the homeless and the likes, and being the daughter of a crime boss... let's just say I was taught what to do if I ever find myself in a pinch.

As I walk to Piece o' Pizza, I'm lost in thought, having walked the path hundreds of times before. I don't really notice until I'm about ten feet away that the place is on fire. I'm not talking a little kitchen fire. I could see the dining area being swallowed up in flames. Like any sane person, I run for my life, because I have no idea if and when the building is going to explode, and I really don't want to be impaled with shrapnel and glass when it does.

Running wasn't so easy, because that was when the police and firefighters start arriving, so I'm dodging trucks and fire engines and patrol cars, trying to get as far away as possible. One of the officers on the scene decided to grab me, demanding to know why I was running (as if the reason wasn't completely obvious to anyone else). He had the gall to ask me if I started the fire somehow. Of course, I denied it. As to be expected, he didn't believe me and tried to throw me into his patrol car. I could already tell what was going to happen; they were going to try to pin this on me, and given my guilt of association, they'd probably somehow manage to try me as an adult. I thought fast--or maybe I didn't think at all. I headbutt his chin, kicked him in the crotch--stupidly, he didn't seem to be wearing a cup--and ran as fast as my legs could take me.

I heard footsteps chasing after me, and someone yelling "STOP IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!" but I didn't stop. I ran and ran and ran until my muscles began to ache and I didn't hear any sirens or footsteps behind me. There was no way I was going to go back to the group home; that would be the first place they would be looking for me. It was at that moment that I realized I had no idea what I was doing, or what my next plan of action was going to be. Exhaustion ultimately trumped any panic that was pulsing through my veins, so I found an inconspicuous place to rest, reasoning with myself that I would figure something out later. Maybe find one of the family friends and lay low with them for a while. There were some that lived in the area...

---

Pisa's story~!

I'm already loving my little morally gray girly



The slime people idea, I got from Bm0321

Thank you for letting me use your slime people and their general backstory for this

Adelmo, I adopted from FAND0M-TRASH
(He's got green hair, brown skin and brown eyes)

Wanna read more or see what happens next? --> fav.me/dbh9tex

---

Description

Hello. My name is Pisa Cezanne. Weird name; I know. I was either named that because my mom craved a lot of pizza when she was pregnant with me but didn't want to just name me "Pizza" outright, or it's because my parents decided to consummate their marriage on the Tower of Pisa, and my dad banged my mom so hard and so long that the tower leaned a few more inches closer to the ground--depends on who you ask. Um... Oh yeah! And my dad is a crime boss.

NO~ It's nothing like The Godfather... Okay, maybe it is a little. Except, in our case, my mom was the brains of the outfit and my dad made sure that the plan was carried out.

  Don't believe everything you read in the newspaper and magazines. My parents weren't monsters. They were just trying to help.

The government doesn't always hold its citizens' best interests at heart. At some point or another--probably before I was born--slime people were discovered mingling among the common citizens, disguised like anyone else. Since they weren't made of muscle and bone, nobody seemed to bat an eye when they were being captured and experimented on in research facilities. Somewhere along the line, someone got the grand idea to chop up these slime people into little bits and use them to make various products; usually food products. While humans come in different skin tones and body builds, slime people come in different flavors that were quite palatable; pineapple, strawberry, orange, butter, cheese, flan--I even knew an aloe vera guy, weirdly enough.

My parents saw what was happening and put their foot down. Slime people were still people, but it was pointless attacking the corporations directly, because the legal system is just a holy hell of red tape, and every day we would be waiting for some lawyer to take up our case, another slime person was being reduced to jelly candy. So, they helped the slime people find pieces of their bodies, gave them new identities, helped them find jobs and homes, even reconnect them with their families if we could find every member. And we didn't twist anyone's arm and make them work for us as slaves. They were loyal to us because we helped them when no one else would. We became a big family that looked out for each other. Every slime person we helped reconstruct was like getting a new aunt, uncle, or cousin for me, and one of my favorite parts of the day was having a chat with them when I came home before starting on my homework.

Finally, some information leaked out to the public that slime people were being put in their smoothies and ice creams and cream cheese, and we thought that meant things were going to be looking up for the slime people. They were finally going to get the dignity and pride they deserved. But then... I don't even know how it happened. One minute, I'm doing my homework at my dad's bar, snacking on some nachos and the next thing I know, the police come bursting in, telling everyone to put their hands in the air and drop any weapons. Personally, I think some mo-fo in the police station was pissed off about Adelmo--one of the many slime men we saved--becoming police chief, so he decided to attack the people who helped him. I know that Adelmo would never have betrayed us like that...

Thankfully, no one died, but my parents were both arrested. The prosecution tried to accuse them of all kinds of things, but the worst they could do was get them for falsifying documents. It's not a terribly long prison sentence, but I will have graduated high school by the time they get out. I might even be in my mid-twenties.

As I'm sure you can guess, I became a ward of the state. Being the daughter of a crime boss, I wasn't exactly a high-end item for those looking to adopt, so I settled into a group home. I don't know if I'm just really good at sneaking around or the place just has really bad security, but every once in a while, I would sneak out to get a slice of pizza from Piece o' Pizza (original name; I know).

  "Why sneak out?" you might be wondering. "Why not just go during your free time?"... Because I love that place... It reminds me of the good times, when I actually had a family to come home to. It's about the closest thing I can get to home cooking, and when I eat a slice, I start to cry, which is really embarrassing. Thankfully, the guy who owns the shop is a friend of the family's, so he doesn't mind when I come by past closing. He will make a fresh pie for me and let me eat in peace while he goes about his business.

This night was going to be like any other. I was gonna slip away, go to the pizzaria, eat (my feelings), then come back to the group home and into bed. I never have to worry about running into any trouble. The area isn't exactly hospitable for the homeless and the likes, and being the daughter of a crime boss... let's just say I was taught what to do if I ever find myself in a pinch.

As I walk to Piece o' Pizza, I'm lost in thought, having walked the path hundreds of times before. I don't really notice until I'm about ten feet away that the place is on fire. I'm not talking a little kitchen fire. I could see the dining area being swallowed up in flames. Like any sane person, I run for my life, because I have no idea if and when the building is going to explode, and I really don't want to be impaled with shrapnel and glass when it does.

Running wasn't so easy, because that was when the police and firefighters start arriving, so I'm dodging trucks and fire engines and patrol cars, trying to get as far away as possible. One of the officers on the scene decided to grab me, demanding to know why I was running (as if the reason wasn't completely obvious to anyone else). He had the gall to ask me if I started the fire somehow. Of course, I denied it. As to be expected, he didn't believe me and tried to throw me into his patrol car. I could already tell what was going to happen; they were going to try to pin this on me, and given my guilt of association, they'd probably somehow manage to try me as an adult. I thought fast--or maybe I didn't think at all. I headbutt his chin, kicked him in the crotch--stupidly, he didn't seem to be wearing a cup--and ran as fast as my legs could take me.

I heard footsteps chasing after me, and someone yelling "STOP IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!" but I didn't stop. I ran and ran and ran until my muscles began to ache and I didn't hear any sirens or footsteps behind me. There was no way I was going to go back to the group home; that would be the first place they would be looking for me. It was at that moment that I realized I had no idea what I was doing, or what my next plan of action was going to be. Exhaustion ultimately trumped any panic that was pulsing through my veins, so I found an inconspicuous place to rest, reasoning with myself that I would figure something out later. Maybe find one of the family friends and lay low with them for a while. There were some that lived in the area...

---

Pisa's story~!

I'm already loving my little morally gray girly



The slime people idea, I got from Bm0321

Thank you for letting me use your slime people and their general backstory for this

Adelmo, I adopted from FAND0M-TRASH
(He's got green hair, brown skin and brown eyes)

Wanna read more or see what happens next? --> fav.me/dbh9tex

---