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Cesare Borgia ([info]il_valentino) wrote in [info]bearandbarnacle,
@ 2008-11-27 14:09:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:cesarepost, cesarethread, event, storm, xelthread

Cesare: Event: Storm
He stands there, getting wet and wetter, but instead of hurrying inside - fixing himself a caffè, now that he's learnt how to, instead of grabbing one of those lush towels, or better yet: lounging away the rest of the day, snug in a fauteuil, swirling Armagnac - he walks away from the door, back into the rain.

He doesn't look where he's going until he bumps into a bench, shin first. Cesare takes that for a sign - isn't the sky full of portents? - and sits, getting wet and wetter, the glasses clutched in his hand as if they were a saint's relic.

Looking heavenwards, all he sees are fleeing shapes, panicked and wheeling, twisted by an invisible force and trampled by the throng. The shapes in the clouds remind him of something. Something he's seen, somewhere. He vaguely remembers being angry then.


(Post a new comment)


[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 04:35 am UTC (link)
When Xel has been a dark wind for long enough that he's starting to feel more astral than real, he decides enough is enough. But it's such a wonderful storm, he can't just let it go to waste! And Cesare-kun is just sitting there, looking dazed, and... and... and, well, what with one thing and another it's just too perfect. Apparently L-sama agrees because the spell does just what he'd hoped. When he changes again, his clothes don't seem to go into nothingness, for once, but turn instead into the pommel-only get-up Juuousama used to put him in on occasion when she wanted to both hide her right-and-left-hand's presence and awe the mortals with her disdain for reins.

He ambles up to Cesare, and looks at him inquisitively.

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[info]il_valentino
2008-11-30 06:22 am UTC (link)
His brain has gone soft. Melted like gelato in the sun. Some people said that could happen, hadn't they? With the mal francese going unchecked? But he's rid of it, he is, even modern science confirms that; the malaria had been fighting fire with fire and...

He blinks furiously, gets water in his eyes.

There's a horse, and it's looking at him. Frisky, if he's any judge of equestrial temperament. Not a destrier, no; thin ankles and sleek neck like that... a good mount for a lady. Cesare's brain still isn't working well, but he starts rummaging around his pockets. No apple or anything; just a crumpled pack of cinnamon chewing gum and a half melted chocolate bar, soggy with water.



Mentally comparing notes, checking Da Vinci's proud design, he can verify it's not Gonzaga's style, this, nor the kind of horse a Sforza would have wanted to be seen dead upon. Cesare lifts his hand for the horse to sniff, fingers splayed, careful not to let them look like carrots. "Ciao," he says, incredulous at himself. "Ran away from somewhere?"

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 10:57 am UTC (link)
Xel lowers his head graciously to sniff him. Then, at the comment and because Cesare's astral body betrays something of the flavor of his assessment, gives him a soft snort, really too delicate for his current body. The accompanying stare, with its message of I-would-be-offended-if-you-were-worth-fretting-over, is also more suited to his most favorite animal form than to even the friskiest, most adolescent Arabian.

Xel says da Vinci's proud design looks like it gets straight As in gym class but beats the other horsies up at recess because it's so depressed about failing all its other classes because it's too stubbornly stupid to admit it has dyslexia. (Xel: doesn't resent Jocks as much as you might think given his size, but laughs at them very hard n,n)
Other thread when I have more brain...

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[info]il_valentino
2008-11-30 11:09 am UTC (link)
What the... Cesare is aghast at his scribe's ability to laugh like a hyaena. He would also like to ask what's wrong with his liking a good warhorse when he sees one, and he has no idea what "jocks" are, so the scribe might have to pull him aside for a little briefing. He just hopes she won't bring up his cheating during Rome's Corso and Siena's Palio.

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 11:20 am UTC (link)
Heheheheh. :D Xel says nothing's wrong with liking a good warhorse, but those who'd disdain speed, spirit, intelligence, and agility just because somebody's not the most brutish powerhouse in the stable are very very silly, and his Lady Lord is sooooooooo far from a delicate flower as to actually be Audrey II. Only not in basso. ^,^ )

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[info]il_valentino
2008-11-30 11:26 am UTC (link)
Oh but look, he likes Arabians, he really does; the Mamluk sultan and poor useless Cem's brother, Bajezid of Turkey sent *very* lovely horses, and they're the pride of anyone's stable, for sure, but sometimes you just need something that's fierce and stubborn enough not to bolt when the first cannons go off.

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 11:38 am UTC (link)
Xel says ...maaaaaybeee.... but Da Vinci's proud design is not aerodynamic. u.u Neck makes it look overbalanced. Is sooooo clearly from Testabourne (geographical Spain equivalent; in Xel's day thought it valued swordsmanship more highly than any other virtue of power and still turns out mercenaries who look more like minotaurs than men and feel called upon, if they have any brains at all, to exercise them only by stealth).

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[info]il_valentino
2008-11-30 11:46 am UTC (link)
Well, Cesare mumbles, peeling wrapper off gooey wet chocolate and stuffing it in his trap, Messer Da Vinci's proud design was more or less meant to be stationary and statuesque and a monument to the Sforza, and as such, didn't survive the Sforza by much, so perhaps you're right. When it fell, it fell with a bang. Da Vinci was heartbroken.

HE ALSO WANTS TO KNOW WHAT OBJECTION XEL MAY RAISE VIS-À-VIS SPAIN. He gives a fig on Castile, fine, but he's been brought up to believe he's part-Aragonese royalty. (The fanciful invention of elderly aunts, fine, but then he's still Catalan.)

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 11:55 am UTC (link)
Xel will stop being scoffy in favor of sympathy now, because although he doesn't know Da Vinci he does know enough about draftsmanship, if not this-world art, to be impressed by quality and a loving pen. But he does say who on earth are these Sforza, they sound incredibly pedantic-minded in that bullish ale-quaffing kinda way.

Xel raises his hands and says he does not know from Spain! Testostabourniel (it got shortened over time) just happens to eventually occupy the same geographic location! And what he has against them is they perfume their hair instead of bathing, and have very little gender parity, and treat any citizen who can't wield a sword effectively as a slave (thus the gender issues; swordswomen got respect there until a few centuries ago), and their cuisine is so hot-pepper oriented that they think oil is a sauce if you slice a chili into it. Also the whole stealth-intelligence thing, which is fun in theory but gets kind of annoying with constant exposure.

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[info]il_valentino
2008-11-30 03:35 pm UTC (link)
Well, Master Xellos is right, as so often, since the Sforza line is pretty much one of sheepfuckers, having married into the dying Visconti line at a very opportune moment.

The rest sounds, umm, vaguely familiar.

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 03:40 pm UTC (link)
Xel says eheheheheehehLOOK HORSIE! Doesn't Cesare wanna ride? Is already wet, may as well have fun with it and um, you know, change the subject! ^___^;;;;;;

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[info]il_valentino
2008-11-30 03:42 pm UTC (link)
WE KNOW. *sighs* The damn fool scribe likes to get sidetracked, la puta.

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 03:48 pm UTC (link)
Is fun! No puta. Xel is just embarrassed about having ended up being censorious after all; was not his intent. This happens... more frequently than he'd like, actually. n,n;;;

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(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-11-30 05:27 pm UTC

[info]il_valentino
2008-11-30 03:41 pm UTC (link)
"Shhh." Cesare makes another shooing, soothing noise as he gets to his feet. He's still got his hand out, and when the horse doesn't look like it's going to rear, shy, or bite, he touches the soft-soft muzzle. It's something he hasn't felt in forever, that warm, snotty, breathy velvet skin around a horse's nostrils, and he laughs gently.

Oddly enough, the animal seems willing to suffer it, so he leans in and puts his face close to its neck. The smell is so familiar it makes him want to cry.

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 03:49 pm UTC (link)
Xel turns his head to whuff gently into Cesare's hair.

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[info]il_valentino
2008-11-30 04:00 pm UTC (link)
He laughs, suddenly careless, probably brought on the prospect of losing his mind, and rests his forehead against the dripping mane. One hand ruffling the tufts of hair just underneath the nearest ear. "They must be looking for you already," he whispers. "What say you; will you have me for a spell?"

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 04:08 pm UTC (link)
Xel whickers, and gives a puppyish almost-bounce, restraining it to a vibrating motion given where Cesare's head is.

Caveat: Xel is not one of nature's horses; the only thing about the form that comes naturally to him is the running. And when he did this for his master, he was rather encouraged to act unnervingly unhorsey than otherwise. Just FYI. (g)

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[info]il_valentino
2008-11-30 05:22 pm UTC (link)
Willful. Sweet.

Cesare eyes the ridge of the back, hesitant for a moment. It's a young horse; perfect for a boy. For a man? Perhaps not so much. He'll have to trust his instincts.

Which would tell him to lay off in the first place. "Last time I mounted one of your kind," he whispers, "it carried me to my death." But then he's already got a hand on the withers and is about to pull himself up.

Fuck, those jeans are tight.



caveat: i don't even know what all those horsey bits'n'bobs are called in german, let alone english! akh!

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-11-30 05:36 pm UTC (link)
Xel stands still calmly while Cesare pulls himself into the saddle, and would smile if his mouth were built for it; this is one of the lightest riders he's ever had as a horse, and when they get going, if they head downwind he'll be able to go fast. He turns his head as Cesare speaks, manages to nose him encouragingly before he goes quite out of range, and, once he's seated, starts to walk, letting him get settled.

Suffice it to say that Cesare is comfortably and securely seated but has no gear to steer or restrain with. ;)

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[info]il_valentino
2008-12-01 05:19 am UTC (link)
Cony de puta, but he curses these pants. The D&G may look nice, riding low, but codpieces were the smarter design. Wincing, he shifts his weight, tries to get a better feel for the surprisingly strong back. Ngh. No reins. Holding on to the mane... no. That's not only wimpy and uncouth but also, he feels, bad form.

He tentatively nudges the horse with his knees, and very nearly falls off when it starts forward, then wheels toward the beach.

Santa Maria, mare de Déu, traffic. Back home, everybody would have jumped to clear the way for a rider, especially armed and wearing a certain colour, but here... horse & rider appear to be lower on the food chain. The horse seems to sense that, ohthankyoumotherofgod, and makes for the dunes. By the time they hit the sand, he's got his arms wrapped around the crest, mane whipping his face.

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-12-01 05:35 am UTC (link)
Cesare isn't quite as skeletal as you'd think to look at him, between his cheekboney face and the sleek tailoring that displays, but gives away little. Still, Xel's grateful for the saddle, especially with the way he keeps shifting around before he gets himself situated. He'd probably have more sympathy for Cesare in the matter if trading function for style wasn't such a noble's choice--and less if it wasn't, in a former general's case, so symptomatic.

The rain and howling winds are strong enough that traffic is minimal, carefully crawling. He can tell it looks worse to Cesare, though, and that's doubly his fault. The horrible stinking poison-belting machines are moving so slowly that it's safe to taunt them even with a human on his back, and he ducks and weaves and races them on his way to the beach, for one thing, and for another, they keep nearly getting into accidents on sight of a horse and rider without a plodding chariot loaded with tourists, and the sounds of horns and skidding even make it above the weather. It's wonderful (and, although he's not proud of this, Cesare's terror spices the experience), but his course to the beach is, bobbing and weaving aside, overall a smooth and direct one.

And then, over the sands and flirting with the waves, his rider clinging for dear life, Xel runs.

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[info]liriaen
2008-12-01 06:03 am UTC (link)
No, no, he's no skinny Capoeira-whirling Vincent Cassel, Paolo Maldini Cesare isn't. *g*

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-12-01 11:13 am UTC (link)
Actually, I was going more from his portraits, and operating on the assumption that, for reasons of gravitas, painters would have been more likely to add weight than paint it out. Also, Xel isn't comparing him to anyone particularly light. n,n

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(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-01 06:39 pm UTC

[info]il_valentino
2008-12-01 06:46 pm UTC (link)
Wet clumps of sand are hurled up and hits him. Water splashes all around as if they were parting the waves. All he can do is try to clasp his hands in front of the horse's neck. With the wet and the cold, his fingers keep losing their grip, but he compensates as best he can, flattening himself against the wind.

It's wild and insane, this, and his heart beats fast against the muscular neck.

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[info]sunnyshadow
2008-12-01 07:03 pm UTC (link)
I got distracted looking for the Da Vinci sketch. Mostly by the sketch of Cesare's death in... Victorian or Lincoln-style suits and stovepipe hats. #n,n# Do you have a link, by any chance?

Xel pounds along the beach, less a horse or a man than a note in the wind, a pulse in the rhythm of hooves, barely feeling the sand and surf under him. When the beach comes to the end of the built up areas, he veers high, away from the water. The woods where he once saw Alex walk into a wall of air are sodden, green and dripping and full of quiet: wildness waiting with bated breath. His hooves on the turf squelch, sometimes clicking on a breaking stick or a rock, but the roaring of the wind and the hissing rain make the sounds only natural, no insult to the silence of a forest. It would make a scene of grey, ominous passion, he thinks, in a book.

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(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-02 05:37 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-02 05:54 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-02 11:00 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-02 11:05 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-02 04:03 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-02 04:36 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-02 06:35 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-06 03:11 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-13 05:33 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-13 10:42 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-15 04:43 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-15 04:54 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-17 06:11 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-17 06:22 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-18 06:02 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-18 10:08 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-22 05:41 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-22 10:58 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2008-12-29 01:43 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2008-12-29 05:50 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2009-01-01 05:32 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2009-01-01 05:42 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2009-01-17 06:38 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2009-01-17 06:49 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2009-01-17 06:59 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2009-01-17 07:14 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2009-01-18 09:30 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2009-01-18 10:48 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]liriaen, 2009-01-18 11:16 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2009-01-18 02:48 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2009-01-18 03:41 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2009-01-18 03:58 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sunnyshadow, 2009-01-18 04:49 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]il_valentino, 2009-01-19 03:09 am UTC

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