Riccardo de Romanus

VC RP blog. NSFW friendly. No minors How am I alive? Just ask.

[shackledangel]

Hey ya'll! So I finally made an Etsy for the stuff I paint, and I'm pretty excited about it. I'll also be posting this via my old rp blogs to get the word out, so if you see Lestat or someone talking about my doodles that's why XD The Etsy is still a little bare, I'm working slowly to get my listings and decor up, but my instagram is alive and well, so I'll link that too, for anyone who wants to see what I've been up to. Thanks! ~Kira

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[saint-switchblade]

Jordan Piantedosi

[soracities]

“I condemn you. Yet my heart yearns towards you.”

— Virginia Woolf, The Waves

[quotemadness]

“My soul chose yours. And a soul doesn’t just forget that.”

— Ben Maxfield

[fallen-apprentice]

1.What types of threads are your most favourite? 4.What is your favourite thing about your muse? Why did you pick them up, what do you want to explore?

// Tumblr didnt even tell me this was here! Stupid notification system ><; I happened to spot it while looking at threads on Ri and trying to see if I could write lol.

I really enjoy Riccardo threads with his family and people he loves. I've had several with Amadeo/Armands and with Santino in his main verse. And when I can find my will to rp more again I'd like to do more Marius and Bianca, even Daniel or Sybelle and Benji.

My favorite thing about Riccardo... I think he has a charm to him. But not Lestats style of charm, which I think is more sexual. I think Ri would be the type of person you would feel instantly more at ease around. Friendly, compassionate. Until you fucked with his family.

I chose to Rp Riccardo mainly because... most of him was a blank slate. I used to almost exclusively play OC characters, in OC worlds, with other OCs xD I rarely played with any canon characters, my muse or my partners. Then one of my friends and someone I've been rping with for years pulled me onto Tumblr and used my love of VC to convince me to play first Lestat, then Marius. Lol. I love the blondes, dont get me wrong, but I certainly dont feel like I do them very much justice. And I missed the freedom of OCs. I'd tried a few OCs on here, but they didnt do well. So, I looked more into the canon OC category. Characters that had just enough lore than they had a place in the fandom, but that Ann hadn't really flushed out or given much of a personality. Out of my options, Ri seemed like a good bet, since I love TVA and my long time Rp partner who dragged me here mains an Armand.

[sillyprompts]

Munday Styles and Preferences

What types of threads are your most favourite?

What types of threads are your least favourite?

What kinds of threads do you think you are best at writing?

What is your favourite thing about your muse? Why did you pick them up, what do you want to explore?

What is your least favourite thing about your muse? What makes them difficult to write, or interact with?

Is there a correlation between the muses you like to pick up? Something in particular that draws you to a character and makes you want to write them?

Do you project onto your muses at all, giving them similar issues or traits to your own? What is your opinion on people who do this?

What is the strangest muse you have ever picked up to write, or the most difficult?

Do you write fanfiction and/or drabbles outside of tumblr?

Do you prefer roleplaying over writing fanfiction and/or drabbles?

Do you prefer public or private roleplay? Does this preference change when writing NSFW and smut?

Does your descriptive writing change with each muse, do they influence the way that you narrate and use language?

Does your OOC change with each muse, do they influence the way you generally behave?

What is your opinion on formatting, editing and icons within the community? How do you style your own, do they differ from muse to muse? 

Is there something petty or minor that would cause you not to follow a person?

Does fandom intimidate you, or make you critical of your portrayal? Do you have any irrational doubts in what you are doing?

Are you confident in sending memes, liking for starters, etc.? Is there anything you’d like your followers to know about your anxiety?

What draws you to roleplaying as a hobby? What do you find fun?

What kind of writing partners do you tend to merge well with? Do you like people who communicate, or more impulsive personalities?

Has this hobby changed your life at all? Your mood, your outlook, or your friendship group?

[bnmxfld]

“I am too tired and I miss you too much.”

— Simone de Beauvoir

[extramadness]

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

“Sometimes you just need someone to tell you you’re not as terrible as you think you are.”

— Unknown

[the-immortal-armand]

“I’m your worshipper at least; Perilous mad passion mine, Wild one, yet for me divine, You’re the idol, I the priest!”

— Charles Baudelaire (via desanctii)

[fallen-apprentice]

👆

Riccardo stared at the younger immortal from across the darkened club. He wasnt the only one hunting here tonight... far from it, in fact. The decent sized establishment seemed to be a popular stop for Little Drinks here in this smallish town, and Riccardo was already prepared to avoid them, local and fanged tourists alike. He simply needed to feed and go about his way, meet back up with his lover and continue their travels. But something about this young man pulled at him, kept drawing his eye.

He realized with slight surprise he wasnt the only one. Others of their kind stared at the young one as he danced so carefree amongst the mortals, colored lights glinting off dark blonde hair as he twisted and writhed. Some of the stares were a bit awe struck... while others held jealousy, or bitterness. One way or another, they didnt linger, getting their sips and carefully bolting. Riccardo was only able to catch glimpses of an older blonde figure in their minds, faceless but dangerous. Powerful.

Ah, so the boy had an Old one protecting him. Interesting. But Riccardo was not afraid. He sensed no one of such power in the vicinity, and was confident in his own ability to flee should they appear. So he allowed his curiosity to bloom, drifting closer, joining the mortals on the dance floor and allowing a pretty brunette to press herself against him, using a dance with her as an excuse to get closer. Amusement flooded him as a few of the younger kin in the room seemed shocked at his boldness, and he tried to pull deeper into their minds as he pressed his lips against his dance partners throat, curious what else they might now.

Sharp eyes.

Soft face.

Cruel smile.

Red curls.

Riccardo almost dropped the mortal in his arms, shock coursing through him. That face. He knew that face. He released the girl, spinning around, wanting another glimpse of the young blonde, only to crash against him chest to chest, dark eyes stareing up in surprise at the only fledgling of his darling Amadeo.

[violeteyedvampiremolloy]

Daniel was lost in the music, he'd already fed a little here and there tonight. Little drinks from the beauties that were part of the local nightlife, innocent souls, on top of the earlier evening feast of an evil doer who liked to corrupt said party people. Refreshing to have so many vampires, usually he placed bets, on which vampire of his lineage made them back away first. Armand or Marius. Sometimes it was even for both.

When he'd started to just hold his head above the ocean of madness, Marius had brought him here and to places like it. Startling to see someone so ancient amongst the throngs of veritable children to him. Despite Daniels attempts he didn't step a toe anywhere near the dance floor. Watched, smiled and indulged from the side lines.

On a special visit he'd gotten Armand on the dance floor, that night only mortals had been anywhere near them. The power of their dynamism, and his makers reputation for privacy made them the centre of attention.

Felt the eyes of a specific blood drinker on me, clocked him getting closer. Between grand-sire and lover-maker I had many instructions on my vampiring education, I could enjoy myself and be incredibly watchful to point of paranoia at the same time. Next beat there he was bumping straight into my chest, forward. Dark brown eyes shocked. Broadcasting why. Knew the description before I heard the old name. Amadeo. Head swirled with the implications. Not many people banded that name around despite it being in a book or two. His own eyes widened. *Riccardo.* Spoken to his mind, so as not to be rude. "Congratulations I'm officially surprised."

[fallen-apprentice]

The shock of someone reading his own thoughts pulled him back from his stunned stupor, eyes blinking rapidly as his weakened defenses solidified and slammed back into place, furious with himself. Dammit, he was too old for those kind of mistakes... broadcasting like a newly turned fledgling, secrets on full display! Maybe he was lucky, maybe the boy hadn't learned anyth-

*Riccardo*

The sound of his name in his mind.

Fuck. Ok, so the boy had learned something.

Riccardo took a small step back from the younger immortal, watching him carefully. "You aren't the only one. I was not expecting...." Ah, and if this was Daniel, then the blonde old one the others had feared... Damn. A soft sigh left his lips, an old habit, even as his chest tightened with a mixture of longing and fear. "They aren't here, right? Him and... Marius. I didnt sense... "

[monsieur-nicolas-de-lenfent]

Absolve these mistakes||

@fallen-apprentice

Each night brought a new wave of memories, splashing inside Nicolas mind with the strenght of hurricanes. Faces getting names, names getting blurred faces, clear faces in need of names and fire. Blinding and hot, embracing him as he stumbled and felt into the heated blaze.

Each night, Nicolas woke and stared at his reflection. Each night, the ugly mangled burnt flesh had taken shaped and became smoother and more tanned. It would offer a good way to hide among mortals, looking more human like. Although, his face hardly showed the scars felt by the flames, Nicolas could still trace with his fingertips the memory of scarified tissue and in his eyes, the handsome face reflected still looked like one of a monster.

He stood before the mirror dressed in a simple pair of pants and a loose dark shirt, his hands circling his wrists as if a ghost ache would still strike. His wrists, the bleeding stumbs, his hands taken. The screams. The face, the blood tears stained eyes of a man dragged from the room. Nicolas felt on his knees, feeling everything coming down too quickly and threatening to suffocate him. Why he still felt that? Vampires didn't require to breathe yet Nicolas felt and it all came so strong against and inside him, he constantly felt like he was punched hard and the air was leaving his body too quickly. The pain came. The memory of the blade falling over his wrists. The thryst. The pain of getting his hands back and the fright of not feeling them properly at first. The horror of thinking he would no longer use his hands properly. Caress that face. Those soulfilled eyes following every memory coming back at him.

Nicolas starred at his wrists, angry. He felt angry and in pain. He ran his fingernail over the skin, again and again, following a thin mark he could see until blood began to ooze from the wounds. He felt his whole body shaking. Angry, in pain, feeling everything inside him, all the emotions he had summoned hungry for a mirror counterpart they could feast upon or stimulate.

In this agonizing process, Nicolas could barely register a presence at the door "Riccardo... don't. I can hurt you. Like I hurt them" Nicolas's voice faltered, feeling a née wave of agony splitting through his mind. He almost whimpered, bitting his lower lip until he could taste his own blood, fingernails still embedded into his flesh "I hurt them... I could have killed them..."

[monsieur-nicolas-de-lenfent]

It ached. A familiar ache piercing his heart as a blonde hair change into dark hair. Nicolas kept breathing forcing himself some modicum of dignity. He closed his eyes focusing on what he had been taught. On breathing and calming himself although he felt his body gripped by a pain he knew all too well. He began humming a song. Something that kept coming back. It was in Spanish from what he could decipher. It spoke of longing and of finding back the road back home.

Nicolas gritted his teeth and bared through the onslaught of emotions cutting through him savegdly. It ripped through him. The longing and ache. He kept it inside him, summoning everything he knew to subdue it. Raw and painful it tore again and again and Nicolas felt there wasn't something left unbroken inside him. He kept playing with his ring, eyes closed as he focused "Two peas in the same pod" Nicolas whispered as the words broke through his lips "that's how we were... Tiago" he let himself be carried by the slip of memory he did not want to let go.

He slowly opened his eyes, readjusting himself with the reality before him "When... I feel everything intense... The others used to stay away because I would let everything slip and unleash chaos" he remembered screams. Jandarmes rushing towards the stage and a auburn haired man coming forward. Nicolas shut his eyes tight, his left hand resting on his right hand's wrist as he felt his body shaking at the memory of pain and loss "My hands... He took my hands" every tidbit of memory came through what his body and mind were processing through the unlocked pain and memory of pain. Breath. He kept breathing, forcing himself to relax until he could form words without trembling "Have you or Santino seen others like me? Having this thing of feeling so extreme" he asked gently, staring at Riccardo "I don't want to hurt you or Santino" he added softly.

[fallen-apprentice]

There wasnt much Riccardo could do, really, other than what he already had. So he continued to sit quietly, stroking the younger immortals hair or back when he drew close enough and held still, the way one might soothe a crying child, and watching and listening when he pulled back and thrashed, to be sure the boy didnt harm himself. A test of patience, to be sure, but he was fond of the young one, as he knew Santino was as well.

When Nicolas finished his singing and acknowledged him once more, Riccardo gave a kind smile, shaking his head. "Nicolas, dear one, you could not harm us. If Santino thought for a moment that you were a danger to me or to himself, you would not be here. And here you are. So put that worry aside." He gave a small stretch from sitting still, then relaxed against the wall at his back, sighing.

"I dont know if Santino has seen anyone like you or not. But I do know a bit about what it's like to be lost to sadness and pain. To let it consume you. Something I think might help, Nicolas, is to remember... yes, you feel everything so intensely, but there are more feelings besides the bad ones. I know those are fresher, and easier to remember because of how much they hurt. But focusing on them is only hurting you -more-. It's an endless cycle, and you must break it. Yes, you have much to overcome. I know theres things you wish you could recall, people you want to find, but you have to heal yourself first. You are no good to them like this."

[fallen-apprentice]

Riccardo walked slowly through the catacombs, reluctant still to return after venturing out to hunt. The smell of death and decay embraced him like an old friend the moment hed returned, and already he missed the smells of the night, the wind in his hair, and the lively chatter of the mortals still awake. So easy to imagine the smell of sea salt, the warmth of a real home, the smiles of his mortal brothers... A sigh escaped him, and he ran his hand over his face, trying to rub away the memories. Longing for such things would just drive him to madness, and turn him from the path he needed to stay on.

Another shake of his head, and he threw out his arms in a frustrated gesture, stretching his spine back in an arch and letting his fingertips brush the soil of the low ceiling.... only to freeze at the sound of ripping fabric. He felt loose cloth slide down his chest and crumple at his bare feet, dark eyes stareing in horror. No, no no no nononono... He dropped to his knees, frantically gathering the tattered green remains of his Venetian finery and clutching them to his chest. He could feel some of his brethren stop to stare at him, and his freshly fed skin grew pink with shame. Still, he couldnt stop. He wasnt ready for this. This was his last tie, his last connection, hed been so careful and preserved it so long... had one stretch really done it in? Had tonight's victim pulled on it while he was lost in the blood? Maybe if he could just find some thread, a needle, he could patch it up for just a while longer...

@immortalcovenmaster

[immortalcovenmaster]

Santino closed his eyes as Riccardo pressed against him and he nodded slowly as Riccardo turned down his suggestion that he could go to Paris. "I am sorry, Riccardo... I wish I could do better for you," he said softly. He tightened his hold on th eother male as Riccardo's face turned and kissed at his throat. He reached up, cupping his head. With his free hand, he cut into his throat with his thumb nail. It was forbidden to share immortal blood with others of the coven. Especially an elder to give blood to one who was younger.

But Santino knew that tonight, Riccardo needed that solace. That comfort. He pressed his fledglings lips against the wound on his throat. "Drink, my child," he said softly. "Quickly now... we haven't much time before the nightly confessionals," he urged, pressing his lips to Riccardo's hair lightly.

[fallen-apprentice]

Another gift he didnt deserve. But he did want it. He could smell it, his makers blood, sweet and strong, and as Santino pressed him closer he closed his eyes and pressed his mouth where Santino directed him, drinking in the nectar from the wound. The taste calmed him, as his master no doubt knew it would, and the power in the older immortal made him shiver, a low moan being muffled by the flesh against his lips. Broken as he was, a small piece of him responded to the allure of the forbidden, not as frightened of this sin as he perhaps should be with Santino offering it. With Amadeo gone to Paris, Santino was his only light in this darkness, and he put his trust in him.

Even with him drinking from it, the cut wouldnt stay open forever. All too quickly it was healing over, and Riccardo pulled back slowly, running his tongue over the closed cut to make sure not to miss a drop. Then he rested his forehead against the others shoulder, loathe to move away. He could still feel the pleasant buzz of the more powerful blood, mellowing his mood. He was still sad, still upset over the loss of his last physical connection to his mortal life... but at least he was no longer panicked, or so distraught he couldnt think.

"I'm sorry..." He pulled in useless air to form a soft sigh. "Im acting like a child, aren't I? I just... is it so wrong to miss it? That life... I dont need the jewelry or silks, but to be that... that -happy- again..." He pulled himself away slightly to look up at Santino, the bloody tear streaks on his cheeks smudged and drying now. Nightly confessionals... yet how could he confess these things to anyone else? "I want to obey, but I cant seem to forget. My mind wanders, not just to the past but to places I know I shouldn't allow... shouldn't want. Not just for me, but for you, and for Amadeo."

@immortalcovenmaster

[qvotable]

“We could have been happy. I know that, and it is perhaps the hardest thing to know.”

— Ally Condie

[fallen-apprentice]

Your char is null and void in the fandom

// -blink- ... was this for a meme I dont remember? Or was someone being a random twat? I'm honestly unsure xD Without some icon or emoji or something to match to a meme, you'll have to let me know what it went to.

And if it was just a random troll, well, your probably right! :D After all, Riccardo did die in the books, and though AR has no issue bringing back plenty of other random fuckwits that kicked it through the series, she has yet to give Armand back his bro. But the cool thing about RP is we get to yell "Fuck that!" And do as we please! Anyone wanting to stick to canon is welcome to refuse to play with my little Riri, and that's completely fine. But to those open to the 'what if?' brilliance that RP offers, here he is. ^_^

[danger]

[fallen-apprentice]

Riccardo walked slowly through the catacombs, reluctant still to return after venturing out to hunt. The smell of death and decay embraced him like an old friend the moment hed returned, and already he missed the smells of the night, the wind in his hair, and the lively chatter of the mortals still awake. So easy to imagine the smell of sea salt, the warmth of a real home, the smiles of his mortal brothers... A sigh escaped him, and he ran his hand over his face, trying to rub away the memories. Longing for such things would just drive him to madness, and turn him from the path he needed to stay on.

Another shake of his head, and he threw out his arms in a frustrated gesture, stretching his spine back in an arch and letting his fingertips brush the soil of the low ceiling.... only to freeze at the sound of ripping fabric. He felt loose cloth slide down his chest and crumple at his bare feet, dark eyes stareing in horror. No, no no no nononono... He dropped to his knees, frantically gathering the tattered green remains of his Venetian finery and clutching them to his chest. He could feel some of his brethren stop to stare at him, and his freshly fed skin grew pink with shame. Still, he couldnt stop. He wasnt ready for this. This was his last tie, his last connection, hed been so careful and preserved it so long... had one stretch really done it in? Had tonight's victim pulled on it while he was lost in the blood? Maybe if he could just find some thread, a needle, he could patch it up for just a while longer...

@immortalcovenmaster

[immortalcovenmaster]

Santino knew. Of course he knew. How could he not? It was why he'd allowed the boy to keep them for so long, even when he normally would have instructed anyone else to get rid of them. He was soft when it came to Riccardo. His child. His only fledgling. He watched as the last bit of his beloved child shattered upon the ground, the rags falling to the floor. He moved towards him then, gently draping the robe over his shoulders gently, squeezing his shoulders tightly.

He knelt down beside of him, pulling the boy against himself. It was a rare occassion that he would risk this. If they were caught- but then, Allesandra wasn't here. And no one else had the authority, or the audacity, to correct him. He was the Coven Master. And yet... he knew that he would pay for his weakness one day. The madness would come, and he would enter the fire. And the devil would have his dues. He held his child though, just for this moment. He ran a hand through cob-webbed hair, tucking Riccardo up beneath his chin and against his chest.

"Do not lose it, Riccardo. Let it make you stronger. They are only clothes..." he said simply. He tightened his hold on him once more, closing his eyes. How he desperately wished he could let his child go. But Riccardo was his world. His only solace here in the darkness. "Let it make you strong, Riccardo. And maybe... maybe sometime soon, it will be you that I send to Paris with the orders for the Coven..." he whispered softly.

[fallen-apprentice]

He didnt fight the robe being draped over his shoulders, but neither did he attempt to pull it on farther, letting it hang there. When Santino pulled him into his arms he went eagerly, a soft, pitiful noise leaving his lips before he could help it. His masters arms were a precious solace and a rare treasure, and he closed his eyes and leaned in desperately. These moments sustained him when nothing else could, and he craved them, even knowing how it damned them both. He wrapped his own arms around the other male, soaking up the affections like a sponge.

"Only... clothes." He forced out the lie, hating how hollow it sounded. He needed to believe it. If not for himself, then for his master, who spared a wretched thing like himself. Santino was so good to him. So lenient. He needed to be better for Santino. He knew that. But it was so difficult to forget his past life. He didnt know how the others did it so easily. At every turn there was something triggering his memories, making him ache with longing for things left behind. So many sinful thoughts, so many blasphemous wishes and desires. Even now, wrapped in his makers arms, already breaking rules, he selfishly longed for more. Traitorous thoughts of life outside the catacombs, foolish dreams of a world he wished he could show his Master. He had to stop.

Talk of Paris made him suck in a useless breathe of air, the tease of seeing Amadeo again working as it always did to help pull him a little farther from the depression ever lurking in the back of his mind. But even that lacked the effect it once had... for two reasons. Allesandra was a big one. Reports claimed the old biddy still lived, and while Riccardo got away with his blasphemy here, where only the oldest coven members dared peek past his defenses and report his private sins to Santino, he knew she wouldnt hesitate to dive into his mind and torment him for every wayward thought. Without his maker to protect him, she may well just send him to the fire before he could even speak to his precious brother.

The other problem, of course, was leaving Santino long enough to make the long journey to deliver the report. As Coven Master, his maker couldnt leave to go with him, and the thought of losing another loved one, especially someone he depended on so much, was heartbreaking. He gave his head a shake, holding Santino slightly tighter at the thought, the robes slipping farther down his shoulders, and he murmured his plea against the dusty fabric covering Santinos chest. "I... I cant. I need you." He turned his face up and pressed his lips against the others throat, brushing a reverent kiss over the well defined curve of the older beings Adam's apple before pulling back and opening his eyes, dark orbs peering up out of a tearstreaked face. "Forgive my weakness, Master, please."