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Tweak says, "lol fail"

Isabel Giovanni (isabel_giovanni) wrote in seasidecafe,
@ 2009-03-10 13:00:00

Entry tags:

invisibility

Isabel Giovanni: Invisibility
It is rumoured that Monçada, the Archbishop of Madrid, has entire palaces built in the realms of shadow and operates invisibly to even to the eyes of his own clan. It certainly accounts for his longevity, especially within the Sabbat factions. She has not his skills, but can easily slip into the shadows to move where she will. Is it the rustling of silks and silver, or the sounds that the shadows make when they are at play that whispers through the café? Who is to tell, for this once, both are true. Skills must always be honed, practised, and tested lest one lose them. To lose this discipline would be a near fatal mistake, for she relies upon the deception to hide her role as spy for the Family and to provide a skill that no one else in the Family has. Exclusivity has always been a superior survival skill.

Stepping from the shadows, Isabel brushes her hands down her blue and silver silk gown. Shoulders bare, they seem far too luminous to have been hidden from sight in the shadows that the fall of her hair calls to mind; or from the stark black silk masque that partially covers her face, complimenting perfectly the perfection of her complexion. It is still Carnevale, even here on these grey and damp shores.

"I have my own manner of invisibility, as you may see," her lips curl at the small play of words whilst her fingers adjust the lacing of her bodice until the fall of shadows from the laces across her white skin are to her liking: neither too tight, nor too loose, and allowing the drip of diamonds from her necklace to steal under them as she moves. It is only when she is satisfied that the gown gives the impression that it has been chosen and put on to ornament her body and not cover it for modesty's sake that she looks again at the assembly and continues, albeit, very briefly. "It is not perfect, but what is?"

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	notjusta_teaboy 2009-03-10 06:51 pm UTC (link)
	Ianto watches, fascinated, as she steps away from the shadows, seeming to materialise out of nothing. He approaches her slowly; he's seen her around, but can't recall if they've ever spoken. If they have, certainly not for any length of time. "Perhaps not perfect. But impressive." (Reply to this) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-03-11 12:49 pm UTC (link)
	Looking over at the speaker, Isabel smiles and inclines her head in greeting. "Buona notte, signore. Grazie, thank you, it is kind of you to say so." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	notjusta_teaboy 2009-03-11 05:03 pm UTC (link)
	He nods to her in turn. "You're welcome. It must have taken you quite awhile to learn something like that." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

isabel_giovanni
2009-03-11 05:57 pm UTC (link)

Her expression moves to the serious for a moment as she considers. Isabel finally makes 'mm' of agreement. "It did take longer than learning some other disciplines, but time is something I have in abundance, signore. I do not think there's been a time where we've been introduced formally."

Isabel holds out her hand, "Sono Signorina Isabel Giovanni. Piacere di conoscerla."

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	notjusta_teaboy 2009-03-11 09:34 pm UTC (link)
	He takes her hand, holding it lightly, not shaking it, but unsure about kissing it. She seems the kind of person who has her hand kissed, though. "Ianto Jones. Pleased to meet you." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-03-12 09:12 pm UTC (link)
	She feels his confusion, it seems to be all to common to the times, or perhaps just a symptom of his humanity. Waiting the space of a few of his heartbeats, Isabel shakes his hand once and then releases her grip, taking her hand back. "I have heard you speak here a few times, signore. I have enjoyed your words." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	notjusta_teaboy 2009-03-12 11:08 pm UTC (link)
	He smiles at her as he withdraws her hand, as though sorry that he didn't know what was the best course of action. He nods. "I've heard you speak as well. You always have something interesting to say." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-03-16 07:19 pm UTC (link)
	Her brow quirks up, amused by his compliments. "Grazie. I do try to enliven what conversation I may. Some nights I manage, other nights," she shrugs, a carefree gesture that holds no worries for what other nights may or may not bring, "other nights, it is a dead end." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	notjusta_teaboy 2009-03-16 08:25 pm UTC (link)
	"I think it's that way for most people." He smiles softly. "But you do succeed more often than most." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-03-19 07:41 pm UTC (link)
	"Grazie per il complimento," she falls back into her native speech as she accepts the compliment. I will have to keep my ears open more often in the future nights, then, to listen more." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	notjusta_teaboy 2009-03-19 11:31 pm UTC (link)
	He doesn't know Italian, but the meaning is easy enough to figure out. "You're welcome." He smiles softly at her. "You strike me as someone who listens quite well." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

isabel_giovanni
2009-04-04 09:42 pm UTC (link)

Isabel blinks at the young man before her. It has been a very long time since she has seen such open youth. It seems a touch nostalgic if not old-fashioned. She can't help but grin in return. "I do try to listen, it is the first step to mutual understanding."

And the first step to learning deeper secrets and desires, especially when combined with the silent clues that a body can give. Diplomacy and espionage were two sides of the same coin, after all.

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	notjusta_teaboy 2009-04-04 11:47 pm UTC (link)
	He nods. "And that's something we could all use a bit of, really." He looks at her interestedly, but not enough to cross the line into being rude or staring. "You're not from now, are you?" It's not the clothing that gives it away, but her manner of speaking and carrying herself. He's seen enough people dislocated in time to recognise it. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-04-05 12:54 pm UTC (link)
	In the short-run, she thinks and nods at the young man. In the long-run, it was better that the family plans were understood only by the key players. "I am not a product of this age, no." There is no harm to admit it, and no point to deny it. "I have existed for a long time and ingrained mannerisms are hard to shake." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	notjusta_teaboy 2009-04-05 01:53 pm UTC (link)
	He nods. "They tend to be, yes. Especially when they have a long time to be ingrained." He's used to that, Jack being a mix of ingrained mannerism from all different times, past, present, and future. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-04-06 09:00 pm UTC (link)
	Isabel laughs gently at his answer. "If that is a subtle way of asking my age, I will give you points for creativity." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	notjusta_teaboy 2009-04-06 10:35 pm UTC (link)
	He smiles. "I would never ask a lady her age. It tells you so little about a person, anyway." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

isabel_giovanni
2009-04-16 07:58 pm UTC (link)

"Your mother would be very proud of you. True gentleman are rare to find in this age," Isabel smiles at him. Cocking her head, she looks at him and considers his opinion. It is generally true of mortals, but amongst the undead, "Sometimes, though, a person's age can give you a glimpse into how they see the world. But it is all parlour games when all is said and done."

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	notjusta_teaboy 2009-04-16 08:31 pm UTC (link)
	He smiles softly, although there's a hint of sadness to it. "I'm sure she would. And thank you." He nods. "True, but since you're displaced in time, knowing your age wouldn't tell me much about how you see the world anyway." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

isabel_giovanni
2009-04-16 08:48 pm UTC (link)

There is sorrow in his smile. Perhaps his mother has crossed the Veil and he misses her. Isabel does not speak of the spirit world, it disconcerts most mortals, so she pretends that she does not notice the pale emotion.

He is, however, a diplomat through and through, which is something that Isabel admires. "I would be a horrible liar if I allowed you to continue to think I am displaced in time, signore. I have experienced every day... well, night after 1714... since 1564. I am a vampire."

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	notjusta_teaboy 2009-04-16 09:34 pm UTC (link)
	He takes that in as much stride as can really be expected. After all, he catches aliens for a living and has an immortal boyfriend. "And here I wouldn't guess you were a day over 200." (Reply to this) (Parent)

	rriddick 2009-03-10 11:00 pm UTC (link)
	"Very nice," Riddick comments from the corner, where he's almost invisible himself in the dark. Whether he's talking about Isabel's sudden appearance or how she looks is anybodies guess. (Reply to this) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-03-11 12:53 pm UTC (link)
	Head turning to the shadow-draped corner, Isabel once more smiles and nods. "Thank you, signore. One does what one can with what one has." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	rriddick 2009-03-11 10:38 pm UTC (link)
	Riddick nods and leans forward. "You hide very well. I'm impressed." He grins wolfishly. "How are you at seeking?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-03-12 09:23 pm UTC (link)
	"I am well complimented and flattered." Her grin moves from amiable to semi-feral easily and with no small sense of amusement behind it. "It depends upon the quarry, naturally." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	rriddick 2009-03-12 11:05 pm UTC (link)
	"I meant what I said," Riddick replies. "It does, doesn't it." He couldn't have put it better himself. And he likes her smile. "How 'bout a game of hide and seek? You and me?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-03-16 07:21 pm UTC (link)
	"Most men of your calibre often mean what they say. It is a dying quality in these nights." Safe. So many people want to be safe, and safe is never any fun. "It would depend. What are the prizes?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	rriddick 2009-03-17 06:48 am UTC (link)
	"It saves time." Riddick shrugs. "Winner gets to live?" he suggests, grin widening. Finally, finally! A worthy opponent in this dead-end back water he's stranded in. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-03-19 07:45 pm UTC (link)
	Time she has in spades, but can appreciate judicious use of it. Why use four words when one can do? Isabel laughs at his suggestion. "How unfair of you to suggest that! I haven't lived for centuries and I am not sure that I would wish to do so again." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	rriddick 2009-03-20 06:37 am UTC (link)
	"That puts things in a different light." And makes things much more interesting. "What do you suggest then?" Riddick asks her. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	isabel_giovanni 2009-04-04 09:54 pm UTC (link)
	"Me? I would call a blood hunt. You see, I prefer to chase quarry where I can smell their fear and their desperation, and I do not think that you meet those criteria." She smiles more at the memory of past hunts through Paris or Berlin than at her assessment of the man before her. "I also thrill to the competition of wanting to be first." (Reply to this) (Parent)

il_valentino
2009-03-11 07:27 pm UTC (link)

Cesare bounces his right leg on the left knee. He is happy to watch, eyes following the lines of her robes. Her mask reminds him... the comings and goings, nocturnal conferences, hasty meetings, the fidgety discomfort of envoys and ambassadors. Masks behind masks behind masks. Not because of the mal francese, no. He'd gone through the ugly rash stage at a most inopportune moment, that much was true, but...

He shrugs off the thought, resumes the happy bouncing of his leg. It would be very foolish to be feeling proprietary while she is doing the honneurs.

Mh. The gown suits her. Although, had it been up to him, he'd have chosen crimson and gold for her.

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isabel_giovanni
2009-03-12 10:12 pm UTC (link)

The movement catches her eye and Isabel smiles to see Don Cesare watching. Isabel, true to the spirit of gown and masque, dips down into a curtsy. Not too deep, nor too showy, for her skills at manipulating shadows does not extend to having them chase each other along the gaps of the lacing and stays of the bodice. For a moment, she lets herself be envious of the Lasombra, and envy which passes quickly when a new thought crosses her mind.

"Buona notte, Don Cesare. I hope the evening has been treating you well."

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il_valentino
2009-03-13 08:57 am UTC (link)

"Donna Isabel." The corners of his eyes crinkle with mischief and provocation, for he does not rise, merely inclines his head, all ducal gravitas now. "Quite well, for all intents and purposes."

The contours of her bodice and gown are doing funny things, he notices - they're half there, half... not, and to keep himself from ogling - a most unducal thing - he dips his chin politely. "La maschera la più bella," he croons.

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isabel_giovanni
2009-03-16 07:39 pm UTC (link)

"I am well pleased to hear that." Her eyes sparkle with some inner nostalgia as she thinks she is becoming... merciful... in her nostalgia for home? No, just best pleased to have a friend that is not a part of the family.

"Grazie," her voice drops to a soft purr as she answers. "Before I forget, I do have a small something for you." Isabel speaks a strange-sounding word and one of the spiriti drops a well worn leather bound volume into her hand. "This edition is the first with the original cover. It is by far my favourite. The flowers are so evocative, so suggestive, of the full garden of delight found in the male and female forms." Isabel holds the book out for him to take and, hopefully, enjoy as much as she has. "Don't you agree?"

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il_valentino
2009-03-17 07:50 pm UTC (link)

"For me?" He graciously accepts the gift, for the longest time not looking at it... but at her. His face grows soft, care-worn edges smoothed out by the love he bears her.

"Madonna." He caresses the embossed leather as if it were an extension of her skin. "This is exquisite. And I am quite, quite unworthy." It is beautiful, really. Browsing, flicking, he glimpses French - more modern in spelling and sound than what he learnt and speaks still, but not beyond his understanding. "Might I..." He kisses her hand. "Might I prevail upon you to read to me, one night?"

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isabel_giovanni
2009-03-19 08:33 pm UTC (link)

She nods as he takes the book. "Si," her laugh comes easily and softly. Like herself, he must not be accustomed to being given small gifts without hidden reasons or attempts at currying favour. What a mean world they occupied... still, she enjoys watching him as he looks at her. He appears relaxed, truly relaxed for the first time. His gift to her in return, she decides, and is pleased that her gift is cherished.

"I do not believe that for a moment," she counters. "You are exactly the person worthy of such a thing. The bookseller I rescued this from was a dusty and brittle as the volumes surrounding him, one who hoards from greed and not from appreciation." Isabel tuts, knowing that she will have to liberate a few more volumes from the shop.

His gesture touches her as much as the manner of his asking. Isabel allowed herself a small blush. "I would enjoy that very much."

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il_valentino
2009-03-27 06:58 am UTC (link)

Hesitant to let go of her powder-soft hand, he smiles up at her. "Then we have a date, as they say today." He nods, confirming it to himself. Fiammetta had often read to him: Dante and Petrarca and the Ars Amatoria, and sometimes, when a perverse mood struck her, she'd amuse him with exaggerated declamations of the bills posted to Pasquino until he'd throw pillows after her. Late afternoons, dozing on a daybed in her loggia, with her voice sweeter than a harp.

"I thank you," he says very earnestly. "That you remembered is a gift in itself. When may I hope to entertain you?"

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isabel_giovanni
2009-04-04 10:42 pm UTC (link)

Isabel is in no hurry to reclaim her hand: the warmth is welcome in chasing away the chill that is constant to her, even with the creeping warmth found in the lengthening days. "Yes we do," Isabel returns his nod with some seriousness. 'As they say today' sticks with her and she thinks that coming from him, it is not as unlikely sounding as it might be coming from... oh, herself.

"I could never forgive myself if I forgot. There is so little culture here beyond 'pop'" a pained look flits across her features, "and I will be gifting myself in the giving."

There is a chance for a flip remark about checking her social schedule, but Isabel lets it go by unnoticed. "Pasqua. It is the time for friends, the time to be with those we choose to be with and not those we must be with."

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il_valentino
2009-04-05 06:01 pm UTC (link)

"Madonna is most kind." He smiles at her, warmly. "Easter it is. What better time, when all the world celebrates He who is risen." He almost laughs out loud, a sudden memory flitting through his head - of Easter Sunday morning and he so hungover Miquel had to drag him off his bed by his feet and robe him... the godless cursing at the multitude of red buttons... and Cesare asleep on his feet during Mass. Father had been furious. Positively outraged.

"Perhaps, weather permitting, we could spend an evening outside?" He's corrected himself in time, a second before he's said it. An Easter feast laid out on the grass, in her garden, or hidden in the dunes - that would have been nice. He could have rested his head against her thigh, bask with the sun on his face. "Or perhaps madonna would receive me at a place of her choosing," he nods. He's pushing it. But he's curious.

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isabel_giovanni
2009-04-16 08:40 pm UTC (link)

"Grazie," her voice dips into a low purr at the compliment. Isabel is vain enough to accept the compliment as it is and not let the Beast remind her that sometimes her kindness springs from selfishness: her Beast is, at the moment, far to preoccupied with enjoying the irony of this turn of events. The chance to savour some of the most moving words written [in French, at least] on the pleasures of the earthy garden on the night when the Western Church celebrates the triumph of spirit over death. The Beast sniffs, it isn't as if others do not nightly prove the same thing.

Her brow rises hearing the slightest change in breath and she smiles coyly. "The weather is becoming more pleasant as the nights begin to shorten," the Beast nearly snorts as she answers and curls up to doze until the night's hunting will begin. Images of a picnic pass through her mind and she seizes on the last, looking down the spirit winds to the future. "I think that a picnic under the moon and stars would be delightful."

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il_valentino
2009-04-21 05:25 pm UTC (link)

Not quite a vigna ai monti, no drunken clambering about in the grotti of Domus Aurea afterwards... but good enough. Oh yes. He smiles, all ducal grace. "The moon and the stars will pale next to you," he kisses her hand again. "Will you simply knock on my door? I shall keep my evenings free."

He watches her attentively, the great cat happily playing with a mouse, the woman skilled in all the courtly arts from poetry to poison. "I shall keep my evenings free and be at your service."

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isabel_giovanni
2009-04-26 11:37 am UTC (link)

"I will send Andrea with directions on the night," she smiles. "Indeed?" Again she is pleased by the compliment and allows herself a blush and a playful volley back at him, "I will try not to outshine them terribly, for it is enough to have Sol look upon me unfavourably. I do wish to keep night as my ally if not friend."

His eyes burn into her, reminding her of a greater hunger that will not be eased by flirting words and future promises. The Beast's eyes open in response as she dips into a small effortless curtsy and inclines her head. "I look forward to your company then, signore, but now, by need, must regretfully take leave of your company."

Letting her hand rest in his a few more moments, she eventually pulls free as the Beast rumbles uneasily, impatient to be out running in the night. "Until then."

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