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 Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 11:17 pm
Literate Roleplay. 3-4+ moderately sized paragraphs (multiple sentences). You must be 15 years of age or older to play. I'm sorry. Now that I'm 18 I established that rule.
READ ALL PLEASE!
It was in a little village set on the sloping green hills bordering a spattering lake that two boys of very different backgrounds grew up together. One the son of a struggling businessman whose company was slowly going under. The other a sweet child who loved nothing more than to paint. The lake, so compelling and unspoiled, bellowed with the roar of a salty sea and for many an hour, on many a day, they would marvel at its glory or dive into the blue liquid to cool themselves of the summer heat. Best friends. From the time we were born, there was never any doubt that these two adorable children would be attached at the hip for life.
‘Soul mates.’ All the neighbors agreed.
To consider the incessant rants and plans that their mothers and relatives busied themselves with, one cannot help but consider the possibility that perhaps everyone in the village were ignorant fools. To so surely assume that two male children would wed was irrational as well as unrealistic, but they were accurate in the outcome at first.
At times, the eldest of the two by twenty minutes would seize his friend’s hand and half-drag him down to the lakeshore just so he would have the chance to see the scarlet sun dipping behind an orange cliff. This cliff was rutted with nicks and ledges of stone while massive crags jutted through the water’s surface, breaking the rolling waves. The eldest would point to the dim blinking lights of the one daring house placed on the edge of the cliff and whisper, “That’s the house I want for us, Cailean. That’s the house you deserve to have.”
At a young age, Cailean became captivated by the marvels of paint and stencil. His hands promptly became accustomed to the feel of a minuscule paintbrush and the sensation of cool gooey paint on his fingers. Colors splashed in a vivid whirl on what had once been a plain canvas as he began his trek to being a brilliant ‘artist’ at the age of three. First, it was pathetic lines and blotches with a stick figure protruding out here and there, but as time progressed so did the quality of his pictures and he grew to be engrossed in the works of paint and the imaginative figures he could spur from it.
The eldest, a young man by the name of Vincent Randolph, grew up to look like the type of man that God would create as one of his preferred. He had dark soft hair, an attractive face, a tall well-built body, piercing icy blue eyes that shined supremacy and masculinity. Cailean, on the other hand, was exactly the person one would expect to be by his side. His hair was long and white-blonde as Vincent liked it. He was lithe and average height with large shining blue eyes. People told the blonde that he resembled an angel, so frail and timid. He was a boy who needed to be protected and Vincent was his guardian. His protector. His Love.
Cailean’s Timeline: (by age)
0: Two infants are born in the same Hospital.
1: Their first play date.
2-4: They attend Pre-school together. Cailean takes a liking to paint.
6-10: Elementary school. Cailean cries on his first day of Kindergarten when he is separated from Vincent and Vincent throws a tantrum, breaking a desk. They have most classes together after the incident. Cailean begins taking art classes around the age of 8 or 9.
11-14: Middle School. Vincent kisses Cailean for the first time during their sixth grade year by the lake. Cailean wins a small art competition in 8th grade and notices his ‘boyfriend’ has bruises on his face. They are left by Vincent’s father.
15-18: High School. They date. They take each other’s first time. Vincent becomes obsessed with having sex with Cailean and they do it at least twice a week. Cailean’s art improves dramatically even more so than before. Vincent makes him a little art studio out of their old tree fort for his birthday. As high school ends, Vincent goes straight to working for his father.
19: Vincent manages to snag an extremely influential client and purchases the ‘house on the cliff.’ Cailean becomes his ‘housewife,’ so to speak.
20: Vincent’s father dies. As the stress of the company is placed on his shoulders, he becomes more verbally aggressive. He releases his frustration on Cailean only once but quickly apologizes for ‘screaming at him.’ He begins demanding perfection and order in their household and grows accustomed to having Cailean provide it. He bans Cailean ‘frivolous’ hobby of painting from HIS household, saying he wants Cailean to focus on more important things, like cleaning.
21: The Company is doing better than it has in years after a successful merger. Vincent is constantly attached to his cell phone and always busy. He hits Cailean for the first time over a petty argument about how he wants the cans organized in the pantry. Cailean gets fed up and silently rebels by creating his own little art studio in the basement of their home which can be accessed through a trap door in their closet that Vincent is not aware of.
22: The abuse escalates before numbing into neglect. Vincent ignored Cailean when he’s not hitting him. Cailean makes one last attempt at reconciliation by kissing his lover and asking him to put down the phone so they can talk. It ends in the worst beating yet. One of their childhood friends, Renaldo, visits while Vincent is at work and promises Cailean a way out. He tells the blonde he can leave the Country and stay in Italy with his family for a year or so.
23: Cailean accepts the deal and leaves, giving his sleeping lover one final kiss goodbye. Vincent awakens briefly but Cailean soothes him back to sleep, saying he is going to make him his favorite breakfast. He leaves his wedding ring on the dining room table.
24: Cailean lives with Renaldo’s family. He changes his name to Angelo Uccello, cuts his hair short, and dyes it darker to give himself a new identity. He begins painting again in his free time whilst helping Renaldo’s family in the quaint Italian village called Tortella.
25: His paintings, found by Renaldo’s grandmother, grasp their attention and they push him to sell them.
26: Angelo opens a small art gallery. His paintings become quite popular among tourists. He makes a painting called ‘Heaven.’ A copy of this sells to an art dealer for millions. Meanwhile, Vincent’s company is growing and expanding. He marries a woman name Lucia and divorces her within the same year.
27: Angelo has come to know everyone in town. He pays his dues to the Renaldo family and buys a small villa for himself. His paintings sell for a high price and he gives ‘Heaven’ to the local museum where people from all around come to see it.
28: Vincent comes to Tortella for a business ‘vacation.’ One of his clients, who happens to have a fascination with art, drags the man around town. Angelo recognizes Vincent, but Vince does not recognize him. However, the moment their eyes meet, Vincent grows interested in the pretty, strong-willed artist.
YOU PLAY VINCENT
Warnings:
-D/s
-introduction of outside couples (multiple side characters hopefully. I love making other couples)
-possible BDSM
-Any fun kinks you can think of
FOLLOW CHARACTER PROFILE OR I WILL IGNORE PM ^^
Character Profile:
[b]Favorite Artist[/b]: (username)
[b]Name[/b]: Vincent Randolph
[b]Age/Appears[/b]: 28
[b]USS[/b]: No seke. Possessive, short-fused, slightly mean SEME.
[b]Bio[/b]: (He was unaware Cailean would ever leave him. The rest is up to you)
[b]Appearance[/b]: (No emo. Masculine, powerful businessman. Anime or photo as long as he’s physically strong and good looking.)
[b]Your personal age:[/b] You must be 15 years of age or older to play.
[b]Pm or Forums:[/b]
Rules:
- Make posts pretty. (10 point font with a color)
- GRAMMAR! GRAMMAR! GRAMMAR! …and spelling. God, please just use spell check. This is a literate role play.
- No one-liners. Try to keep it AT LEAST a few paragraphs. My record so far was about 2 pages 10 point font. I’ll match your posting size. Intermediate to Advanced Lit.
- Don’t join if you’re not going to be ACTIVE!!!
- No EXTREME God-Moding (However, I won't be a Nazi about it)
- PM me profile under the subject, “I’m Vincent”
- Have fun!
(Pms or forums? I prefer Pms so I don't get confused. Tell me your preferred in the profile ^-^)
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 11:20 pm
Character Profile:
Favorite Artist: XxDarkSaviorxX
Name: Cailean Amadeus aka Angelo Uccello
Age/Appears: 28
USS uke
Bio: self-explanatory.
Appearance:
How he was:
http://i67.photobucket.com/albums/h295/XxDarkSaviorxX/___Drifting_away____by_Lasaro_by_Op.jpg
How he is now:
http://i67.photobucket.com/albums/h295/XxDarkSaviorxX/haruka_minami_046.jpg
Favorite Artist:Spiral Insanity
Name: Vincent Randolph
Age/Appears: 28
USS: Seme
Bio: Vincent always remembers the day he came home to an empty house. Every year the memory plays, like it only happened yesterday. Everything seems so fresh, the visuals, the feelings, and emotions. It just surges through him, and causes the business man to lose control. The next day the maids are met with a mess that is beyond words, it always takes days to clean it up.
His business became top priority, shoving all the supposedly important things his life aside. His disposition became unapproachable and cold, many of his employees became frightened of their powerful boss. Since the day his 'wife' left, the little mercy he seemed to have just disappeared, along with the semi-kindness that used to be in his black heart.
Many lovers have entered Vincent's home, but none of them have entered the room where him and Cailean laid together. The business man has not entered the room ever since the mysterious disappearance of his 'wife.' Instead he has slept in a guest room, which has become his own permanent room.
Appearance: 
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Posted: Wed Aug 18, 2010 7:27 pm
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Posted: Wed Aug 18, 2010 10:06 pm
He still arranged the cans in his cupboard by their height. He still used white hand towels in the bathroom and washed them at least once every two days. He still made the bed, folded the laundry, and vacuumed the floors religiously. Old habits die hard but other than these few quirks Angelo Uccello, formerly known as Cailean Amadeus, liked to think that his years in Italy had helped him undergo a whole new leaf. Tortella was a quaint little town that still embodied the traditional feel of a small Italian village. Everyone knew everyone. He held parties at his villa and participated in every festival. The place was rich with culture, emphasizing the importance of music, art, food, and family.
In many ways, he felt as though he had imposed on the tranquility of this place. His paintings, now popular in the art world, attracted quite a bit of unwanted attention from entrepreneurs who were looking for something ‘nice’ to hang in their homes, collectors who wanted to buy every piece, and tourists who just wanted to see his work. The local museum had a few of his paintings which had taken away some of the onlookers that browsed his shop aimlessly, but there were still those who simply came by to stare and take up space. Still, the locals never complained. They treated him as one of their own. Family.
To them, he was a sweet American who had inverted himself into their culture and was adapting splendidly. It was for this reason the entire town always came to his parties. They never turned down an invitation, bringing food and wine to share among the other guests. At the moment, this was what was happening. It was Angelo’s 28th birthday and currently everyone was enjoying themselves. Children darted back and forth on the stone patio as dim lights blinked from the trees and lining of the old beautiful home.
Among the crowd was a small group of businessmen. “I don’t see why you are so worried, Johnston,” One of the men, Vincent’s client, jeered playfully to his subordinate. “The locals we’ve spoken to all said it was open invitation. Angelo Uccello doesn’t mind if we enjoy ourselves. Besides, I need to corner him and inquire about his painting, ‘The Lady in Red.’ It would go perfect in my dining hall. I’ve spoken to him before but never had the chance to ask.” The man’s name was Jasper Drake and he was quite the fan. He arched an eyebrow at Vincent, giving him a smirk. “Of course, we will discuss business details after I speak to my little celebrity. Ah! There he is”
Angelo, currently, was sipping a glass of wine. However, he almost spat it out when he laid eyes on the one man he had thought he would never see again. Vincent Randolph. His ex-lover. He didn’t know what to do as the man beside his Ex caught his eye, moving forward with a grin on his face. He barely felt the lips brush his hand as Jasper greeted him. His attention was focused on those piercing eyes. “Hello, Angelo. Do you remember me,” Jasper purred, chuckling softly at the beautiful creature before him. Angelo was, for a male, an exquisite creature in any man’s opinion. Shockingly stunning, in fact.
Angelo shook himself out of his daze and returned his attention to the man touching him. “Ah yes. We met during the chocolate festival a few months ago. Jasper Drake was it?” he purred smoothly, blue eyes softening flawlessly. The perfect actor. He could hide his shock with ease.
“Indeed. I wish to inquire about a painting of yours. Vincent, this is the painter I wanted you to meet. Angelo Uccello. He is famous in the art world.”
Angelo glanced up at the male. He doubted Vincent recognized him, considering he hadn’t been struck yet. He would simply need to act calm and ignore the man until he went away.
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Spiral Insanity Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Aug 20, 2010 6:39 pm
Vincent Randolph was never a man who liked to take time away to work, but this business deal he had been pursing had made him taking some time off. A 'vacation' is what most people would have called it, but the powerful CEO knew it was far from it, well at least from his perspective. Too bad his pushy client liked taking all the time in the world. Hell this guy had completed a feat only one person could. He diverted his attention from a business to a party. A party he really had no interest in attending, his main reason being that he wasn't invited. Vincent felt he was being rude by just waltzing inside the small villa, and enjoying the small gathering here. His ingrained manners weren't not letting him push aside any the uncomfortable feeling clawing its way up his spine. Swallowing the amber liquid in his finely shaped glass, he turned to his 'client'.
"I still don't feel right just walking in there," he muttered to Jasper, couldn't the male go in himself and take care of his business. Why did he need a companion? He was acting like a female. Setting his cup down the male relented his argument and followed the shorter male inside. The man was like a missile with a target. He didn't detour for anyone, hell people were moving aside just to make room for the bulldozer coming through. Vincent just looked at the spectators, giving them a nod of acknowledgment. This was his way of saying 'Sorry', and that was all they were getting from the silent CEO.
His wandering eyes landed on petite male, who at the moment was getting horribly 'buttered up'. Though Vincent couldn't help but smirk in amusement as he played along. It seemed to please Jasper, and that was probably what he was going for. Vincent looked toward the painter with a nod, though hearing Mr. Drake mention his name, he decided to just to introduce himself.
"Vincent Randolph, pleasure to meet you," he said smoothly, stretching out his arm to shake the painter's hand. While waiting for the other, his eyes took in chance to soak in the others appearance. He really was a looker, that much was noticeable, though what made him even more appealing to Vincent was his feminine face. It was simply beautiful. His mind brought up the image of his 'wife', but it was quickly shaken away. Now was not the time to think of such things. Beside there was no reason the male would even be here. It was just unreasonable.
A couple quick seconds of assuring himself that the male in front of him was not his lover Cailean he decided to look at him again. His eyes were the color of a warm honey, and they instantly drew you in, making you want to stare at them and lavish yourself in the comforting gaze. His lips were inviting and pout-y, making any sane human crave a kiss from those petal soft lips. Vincent quickly averted his gaze, when he realized how intently he was staring at the painter. He decided to shift his attention to the wall which was holding a painting. His mind quickly flashed a couple images of his wife, trying to remind him that he shouldn't be looking at others so intently.
Vincent let himself fall into thoughts, and the more deep he went the angrier he became. Why should he care? Cailean was the one left he thought heatedly. Large hands clenched tightly, the knuckles on the fist turning white. Every time he thought about his unfaithful wife, his temper would flare. Just the mere of thought of waking up in that empty bed, and then walking through the empty house got his emotions all riled up. Letting out a ragged sigh, the male turned his attention to Drake. "I'll be outside, I need to get some air," he muttered quietly. His voice cold, and edgy.
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Posted: Wed Aug 25, 2010 9:39 pm
It was strange to feel that huge, warm hand envelope his own smaller one. How many years had it been since he had seen Vincent—touched him? He couldn’t even recall. It felt like an eternity. For some reason, the brief contact made a chill crawl up his spine. Perhaps it was the strength of that grasp that sparked old memories of happier days when they were young, running along the shore hand in hand. This same hand, he reminded himself, had struck him hundreds of times. He could never forget that. “The pleasure is all mine,” he lied in a smooth, silky tone, unable to stop himself from jerking out of the handshake a tad too early.
"I'll be outside. I need to get some air."
Angelo was sure, the second those restrained words were bitten out, that Vincent remembered. The man seemed intent on leaving the room and Angelo recognized the scrunch of his brow and the slight frown marring his lips as tell-tale signs of Vincent’s anger. However, he nodded with an amiable smile and watched the other depart, worrying his plump lower lip..
A few minutes later, he decided to check on the man. He knew, deep down, that it was unlikely his ex would recognize him. Even if the man did he would convince himself that his eyes were deceiving him. After all, how impossible was it that Cailean had managed to plant himself in Italy and prosper? Angelo knew the preposterous nature of his own situation, so he forced himself to be at ease. He found the CEO nursing a glass of wine in a secluded area.
“Ah, Mr. Randolph, I take it by the look in your eyes you are not enjoying my festa.” He purred in a sweet, playful tone. However, his eyes were sharp and wary, ready to flee should danger arise. He handed the man a new glass, noticing the one in his hand was quite empty. “Men like yourself put a damper on the otherwise friendly and joyful atmosphere I try to portray with these parties. If you must sulk, please leave. There is no place in my home for those who wallow in self-pity.” He had the ability to see right through Vincent. Years with the man—always at his side—had made such a thing easy to accomplish. He knew those subtle expressions like the back of his hand.
Over the years he had developed a bit of an attitude and confidence that never ceased to overflow. He was quick, pretty, and witty with a tongue of poison.
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Spiral Insanity Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 25, 2010 11:14 pm
Intense eyes watched the crowd with detached interest. His mind was too busy focusing on other things, one being the small artist he had just met. His brain kept sending a nagging tug at him, but for what reason, the male did not know. It was down right irritating if the male had to be honest. Running a hand through hair his long raven hair, he turned his attention to the sky, finding a little comfort that the holder of his heart was staring at the same night sky. Comforting, yet odd. An amused smirk flitted on his lips, making the male's dashing features that more charming and enticing. Piano fingers rearranged the grip on the wine glass, the condensation becoming a bit too uncomfortable for the business man. Just as Vincent was about to turn, a strong yet soft spoken voice pierced his sense of hearing. Tilting his head to the side, the male caught sight of the petite artist. Now what could he want he thought curiously.
An elegant eyebrow rose in question, the male seemed to have a knack for reading people, but his observing skills seemed to keen on him. How odd he thought, the cogs in his mind started to churn with energy. It didn't take a genius to hear the undertone of that playful voice, and again it had the male raising a curious brow. His dark chocolate eyes watched the artist replace his wine glass with a fuller one, but he said nothing about it. He is just being a polite host he assured himself, while keeping an attentive ear toward the smaller man. His words made the male's brows knit together. Now Vincent wasn't one to brag, but he knew he had tight grip on his emotions, and well seeing how this petite artist read his emotions so easily alarmed the man.
A curious glint sparkled in his eyes, signaling that the shorter male had caught his interest, which was a feat not many accomplished. Lips gently parted to let his quiet, yet curious words flow freely, " Quite an observant person you are, but then again it must come with the package of being an artist," his tone oddly light and approachable. The word artist rolled off his tongue like the very word burned his tongue. The single word brought memories of his mysterious lover, memories he didn't want to recall right now. It was not the time to. The usually emotionless business man allowed a playful twinkle to shine in his eyes, just to rid of any negative emotions that might have played out during his nanosecond journey of his less than desirable past.
"Then again, I am not an easy person to read. I am very sure of that, it makes me a bit curious as to how you are able to read me so easily," he stated, his words having nothing but pure honesty laced through them. He would not lie, well at least not yet, there wasn't any reason to. "So tell me, how is it that you read me so easily Mr. Uccello, the only other person who was able to read me so easily is long gone, it makes me quite suspicious," he said, his words were thoroughly coated with playfulness, but under the coating was serious suspicion. How did the male know to read him? It was just odd, and not easy to find. Vincent bore his intense eyes into the male's
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Posted: Fri Aug 27, 2010 9:40 pm
Angelo did not miss the way the word ‘artist’ spilled like poison from the man’s lips, nor did he overlook the suspicion in those piercing eyes beneath the playful glow. It seemed his ex’s pride was wounded. He knew Vincent prided himself on his ability to veil his emotions. He found the businessman’s irritation amusing to say the least. Arching a slender brow, the pretty artist allowed a teasing smirk to snake its way onto his own plump, pink lips. “You are not an easy man to read, Mr. Randolph,” he purred soothingly, allowing his large honey-colored eyes to scan the starlit sky. He wore colored contacts and beneath the glass was a pair of baby blues. “But you are also hardly one of a kind. I’ve been around plenty of men like you. When you’re upset, your eyes give it away. Your brow scrunches and your muscles tense. You practically spat out the word ‘artist.’”
As he spoke, he surveyed the children running below them, playing a game of tag in the darkness. He chuckled as one of the children looked up at him and waved ecstatically, returning it with a gentle smile. It was Renaldo’s nephew—an adorable child who resembled his uncle adorably. He returned his gaze to Vincent, studying his expression. How was it this man could joke and speak with a complete stranger but never his own lover? What about Cailean before had put him on the end of his husband’s fist? How could Vincent be so… fake… to his acquaintances? It made the small boy slightly bitter.
“In all honesty, I hate men like you, Mr. Randolph,” he hissed casually, running soft, pale fingers through his silky golden hair. “Cold, calculating, and despicable to the very core. Then again, I owe my fame to a man very, very similar to you.” His lithe form moved to pass the man. “When I first arrived in Italia, I met a priest who told me that in seeing so much of my own personal hell, I should make a portrait of heaven that would touch the hearts and minds of millions. As an artist, the only way you can understand the simplicity of hope and peace is through personal struggle. You seem to be, Mr. Randolph, the type of person anyone would be better off leaving.”
He pecked that tense squared jaw line with playful lips, easily tapping the man’s cheek and forcing him to look the pretty artist in the eye. “Enjoy your stay, Vinci,” he purred silkily, utilizing that old nickname from long, long ago. “But please leave soon. Jasper is a lovely fan but he has ulterior motives. He brought you here because he wants to play hard to get. He thinks that the more difficult he is about settling the deal, the more eager your company will be to merger. However, what you don’t know is his company’s going bankrupt and you will get hardly any resources from the deal while he will be able to feed off the wealth he acquires.” He was quite aware of how manipulative Jasper could be and although he stilled feared and wanted distance from Vincent, he also couldn’t let the man’s company fall into a stupid trap. He knew how hard his Ex had worked at building it up to be an empire.
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Posted: Thu Sep 02, 2010 10:15 am
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Posted: Sun Sep 05, 2010 8:51 pm
Vincent felt his whole body tense. The man was reading him like an open book, and that didn't sit well with the businessman. It was like being exposed to a complete stranger. A feeling of awkwardness was slowly flushing in, and Vincent didn't like it. Not one bit. He had to somehow excuse himself and take his leave. Being around this stranger was proving to be a little more difficult than he anticipated. It was annoying yet intriguing, frustrating but exciting. How could he feel such contradictory emotions at the same time? It was new, and the raven-haired male felt like he was in a dimension of chaos. He had no control over the situation and that was the icing on the cake. No control for Vincent was like a king losing his kingdom. He needed control, the businessman lived off it. He was the leech that lived off control and power.
As the artist spoke, the male just tuned in. Each word was taken into careful consideration, his mind deeming it's importance. Vincent's lips were sealed together, not even parting to let oxygen inside. His grip on the wine glass was tight, the veins in his hands were prominent under his marble colored skin. It was hard not to strike the artist before him. Not many men had the balls to talk to him like that, it was a feat the stoic male didn't have a privilege of seeing often. Despite his anger, it was refreshing experience to hear to the truth falling from someone lips, it gave Vincent hope that not everyone was a piece of lying s**t. With little effort his sealed lips parted, his thoughts needed to be let out, well at least some of them.
"Ah, I see. Surprisingly I do not know how to respond as to what you have let me know. It is not everyday I get told I am hated." A humorless chuckle escaped his suddenly dry throat. "I could care less about your liking towards me. I only cared about one person's thoughts when it came to me, but they are long gone, so I have long ago smothered out the feeling of caring about people and their feelings." He lifted his wine and took a sip. The male had hoped the artist would just leave after his words, but it seemed he had more to say. He sure knows how to speak his mind, just like him he thought, his features almost softening at the thought. Vincent's eyes narrowed at the slightly new-found information. He knew the business man wasn't doing well, but he was oblivious at how dire the situation was. His mind was already saying that this would not do.
Dark colored orbs slightly widened at the feeling of soft lips against his jaw. The small man kissed him...why? Vincent felt his mind starting to work. He turned his head, letting out a practiced cough. "Thank for you for the information, you have saved some of my time," he said, his voice curt and to the point. "Maybe we will meet again, hopefully the feeling of hate won't be bound to you. Now please excuse me." The tall male took long ground-eating strides toward the small villa. He needed to leave. The lavish hotel he had reserved was sounding like heaven the father he left the artist. He was so confusing. Why would he help and kiss him if he supposedly hated him? Vincent growled to himself, realizing that the small male he left behind was a mystery. A mystery wanting, screaming at him to be uncovered.
A menacing smirk crossed the male's lips, he would find out the mystery behind the great Angelo Uccello. Eyes danced with amusement, for a moment the male forget the state of his chaotic mind, and focused on soon to be future. For once it seemed promising.
((Sorry for the long wait, school started and well I haven't gotten down a routine. I'll probably be slow for a couple weeks. So I apologize in advance for any long delays. :3 D: ]]
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Spiral Insanity Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Sep 06, 2010 9:30 am
In the main hall of the grand five-star hotel, a large painting was being lifted and set on the far North wall. This painting, infused with golds, corals, and creams seemed to emanate the establishment’s wealth and history. It was painted in an almost Renaissance style, depicting two gaudy figures in elegant clothing dancing on the ballroom floor of the hotel. Each stitch of their clothing—each wrinkle and gem—was strenuously defined. The ball gown on the woman was gaudy and viewers could see each individual gold seam, pearl, and diamond. It was gorgeous.
“A little to the left, signore.” Cailean instructed to one of the men placing the work of art. He had spent months creating this work for the owner of the establishment and he would be damned if it wasn’t placed in the correct lighting. Wealthy customers of the hotel gazed in awe, eyes widening and lips parting. Smiling faintly, the cute little uke sighed in relief as his art finally reached its perfect position. “Bellisimo!” he cried, clapping his hands cutely.
Just as the others started to laugh and smile with him, he caught sight of a very familiar figure exiting the elevator. Their eyes met brief, his pseudo-hazel ones being absorbed by those dark piercing irises. He was snapped out of his daze of staring at Vincent when suddenly a heavy hand landed on his back, snapping him to reality. It was the owner of the hotel. The rich man was large and muscular, seeming crammed into his suit. To many, the male was an intimidating presence, dark mustache under his nose and a strict jawline. However, Cailean knew those eyes could soften and he chuckled as the other gave him a rare grin. “Well done, Uccello,” he said in a deep, husky voice, kissing each of the boy’s cheeks gently as though afraid to break him. “It is perfect as usual.”
“I am happy to be of service, my friend,” Cailean said with a smile, placing his hand on the man’s forearm. The other chuckled deeply and nodded, grinning from ear to ear again.
“Yes yes. Well, while you are here, please at least enjoy a complementary meal. I always feel as though I haven’t paid you enough.” The owner blinked when he caught sight of Vincent, slipping into his usual character for his wealthiest guest. “Ah Signor. I trust you are enjoying your stay.” With that, the owner walked off.
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Posted: Thu Sep 09, 2010 6:59 pm
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Spiral Insanity Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Sep 12, 2010 4:34 pm
Catching the attention of the owner was not part of the man's business plans. To be honest, the male was acutally in quite a hurry. Last night seemed to have exhausted more than he had liked, and well the alarm beside failed to do its job. The male sighed as he took a short pause, allowing the owner of the luxurious hotel to catch up. A small smile of politeness filled his lips, though it was all to easy to catch the 'hurried' feeling off his person. He really needed to get going, he disliked the idea of being tardy to business meetings. So when the broad man finally caught up, he nodded at his question.
"My stay has been nothing short of perfection. Thank you for the kind hospitality," he replied, his head tilting into the perfectly practiced angle. His eyes wandered past the man, and they caught onto the painting being hung . His breath almost got caught in his throat, but really he had more control than that. Within blink of an eye, he leaned his head toward the left to get a better look. Really, the painting was that eye-catching. Realizing his lack of manners, the business man turned back to the owner, an apologetic movement following right after. "Please excuse my manners, but I couldn't help but find your new painting breathtaking."
The woman in the painting just seemed to spring to life, it reminded the regal male of a picture taken from a camera. Though Vincent could see the marks that made it a truly wonderful painting. His eyes looked around the lobby, and like they were attracted the man's gaze instantly caught the small artist from last night. The one who had kept him up all night. So it must be his, he assumed. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the polite owner, and smiled. "Please excuse me, I' am in a bit of rush. Business awaits." The male quickly slipped away, not wanting to hear another word. Now he was really late, and that alone was enough to put him in a more foul mood. Seriously, could the people wait till later to ask?
Vincent sighed, he really shouldn't be thinking like this. It sounded spoiled, and pampered something he didn't want to be categorized into. Getting into his car, he looked outside. He still had to wait for the driver to get in and ask for directions. Meanwhile the male started to wonder on how to make up his rude departure, and hopefully not leave a bad impression on the owner. This 'vacation' was really starting to grate his nerves. Or maybe he had been away from home too long? Either way the business man was getting easily aggravated.
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Posted: Tue Sep 14, 2010 9:59 am
The owner chuckled as he watched Vincent depart, shaking his head and giving Cailean a small smile. “Such a busy man.” He announced with a sigh, patting the little artist’s shoulder. “Businessmen like him pay quite a bit for the finest suite in the hotel, but they never enjoy it for more than a few moments at a time. Well, enough about clients. The painting is a vision. Even that grump thought so! You never cease to amaze me, Angelo.”
The small blonde, still surprised to have run into Vincent at the hotel, nodded silently. “Of course,” he purred silkily, giving the other a nod of thanks. “This painting was a joy to make.”
Meanwhile, Vincent’s driver hurried into the car, adjusting his hat and turning to glance at his boss. “Sorry, sir. I suppose there is no excuse for being late. I just HAD to see Mr. Uccello’s latest creation. I have yet to visit his shop, though I’ve heard stories. Quite a sight, boss. Where to?” The man was usually professional and reserved, but now it seemed his excitement had gotten the best of him. Tortella was a beautiful little village, booming with artwork and history. He obediently took directions and began driving.
“Ah, there it is, sir,” he pointed out as they passed the shop. The establishment itself was small and simplistic. A handsome teenager with hazel eyes and copper skin was spraying the windows and washing them to let in the shine. There was a proud grin on his face as he adjusted one of the paintings displayed in the window. It was a portrait of a very familiar house on a very familiar cliff overlooking a spattering lake. “Hmm. Looks like home. He must have visited out town at a time.”
The young man watching the shop waved at the car as it passed in a friendly manner, slipping back inside and sitting behind the counter.
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