marius may have held his niece in the highest of regards but he felt little towards her husband, who seemed stagnant and unworthy of such a match. after checking on the princess his thoughts had wandered to the unborn’s father; questioning his tactics, his moves and the arranged security for joan. he arrived unannounced and hidden, keeping to the shadows of decorated halls as he entered the quarters where the noble and unlucky trastámara family stayed. he was draped in black cotton rather than golden-trimmed fancies, and kept his head down to disguise the prominent french cheekbones that had been inherited from his father, only lifting himself to meet the eye of mario — though he was older than marius’ by years due to his premature rise to prince regent, he held himself with an almost nurturing nature — his gaze somewhat soft yet patronising due to prince mario’s homeland state. “your grace,” he greets, standing still — anchored to the ground with his hand flat against his doublet. “i come as the bearer of good news on the progress of the land that is righteously your home, are you decent to receive it? and of course, i am overjoyed to see joan happy and healthy, to know a new babe is on the horizon is news to be celebrated by itself.” ( starter for @maricofviana )
TO WIN OR TO LOSE WAS OF LITTLE consequence to france, as they would unfailingly parade themselves as the victor of whatever war they were embroiled in no matter the outcome. how often had joan suggested that the deposed trastámaras call upon the prince regent’s generosity, as he sat upon not only his high horse but indeed the french throne? to seek their council, their aegis, when they themselves could not decide if their realm was to be ruled by a babe in arms or a de facto usurper? mario stifled all attempts to extend an olive branch to the anjous and de guises, and it was only a matter of course that some animosity should frizzle between himself and prince marius--- although the animosity, for the sake of their family and kingdoms, bonded in a mutual ambition, remained discreet.
❛ your highness, ❜ the spaniard acknowledges in turn, mouth creased. it isn’t until marius beckons him with politics that mario’s dark eyes meet the frenchman, ❛ news that concerns my brother’s kingdom invariably concerns me, that is---if you will allow me to rob you from the present festivities to discuss statecraft. ❜ the mention of his wife’s unbridled source of joy receives no display of enthuse from mario, instead only a taciturn: ❛ a new beginning, for each of us---for the trastámaras and anjous, no? ❜
an overabundance of felicitations had showered upon her and for the first time in many long years, joan had been forced to beat the dust off her facade of polite hostess, clothing her skin with the cautious excitement that was expected of a woman in her condition, the insides of her cheeks raw from how violently she had gnawed on her words to keep from spitting bitterness at the ushering courtiers, pale fingers made even more bloodless as she squeezed at her skirts as each naysayer shifted to a newer, sweeter tune. ( the holy book said to forgive and forget but all she wanted was to spit in their faces and curse their bloodline to suffer a similar shameful scrutiny as the one placed upon her. ) forgoing the coverage of her usual neck - high gowns and wimples, a looser italian fashion had been adopted in the hopes of concealing the growing swell of her belly under the billowing gamurra though each step seems to emphasize the protrusion, a fact that remains painfully amusing as her plans are thwarted by the very child within her, refusing to be silenced.
the unrestrained clamour of children seems all the more appealing as the noise occupies the background of her afternoon conversation, wistful fondness filling the space once occupied by an endless dread as she rises from the circle of clucking hens with a palm upon her stomach in search of much more enjoyable company ─ the children, at least, are genuine in their wide - eyed curiosity as she joins their games, small hands pressed against the swell with an adoration that she hopes to find in the eyes of her future brood yet the towering figure by the window succeeds in drawing her away from the pretty imaginations, the bountiful fabrics of her skirts tangling around her legs as she hastens her steps towards him, the pout of her cherubic mouth shifting into a fond twist of the lips, the direction of her gaze not on the prancing children but on his sculpted countenance, like a flower turned towards the sun. ❝ do you promise ? ❞ gently, the worry seeps through even as the idea sweetens the doubt in her mind. the image he paints is beautiful but the urgency forces her into impatience, fear seizing the heart at the very thought of bringing a child in such uncertainty, night terrors of a babe drowning in the oceans enveloping her into cold sweats. ❝ the physicians predict that the child will arrive early next year … a promising spring birth, they say. that does not leave much time, my love. i … i have spoken to my uncle and my brothers. ❞ begged ─ she had begged, trembling and broken. if they refused her after that, she would see them burn, brothers and uncle both. ❝ france remains open for the babe, should the need arise. perhaps, they will help us now ? ❞
it was speculated that the spanish royal family was nothing short of ebullient to usher a babe among their midst, to welcome the first sign of life ----- the early stirrings of a nation reborn, of a nation awakening ----- into their ranks since being cast from the unprecedented echelons of the iberian throne nigh a decade ago. albeit the prince of asturias met the temptation to wear his heart upon his sleeve with firm and outright defiance, he was, true to the recent tall tales being spewed on his behalf, nothing short of joyous. privately --- of course, but in the alcoves of his soul, unreservedly so.
perhaps even, undeservedly so.
yet --------- with all joys come apprehension, anxieties unable to be quelled by the leaden passage of time. how best to preserve that joy was chief among his qualms, to ensure that no harm befalls it, to safeguard it. these worries haunt him, a specter in the night that dares to torment and prey upon his darkened thoughts with little reprieve. he, who taunts the kings of christendom, capsized by something as useless as fear. the notion was risible.
mario glances toward his wife: his neck remains motionless as his irises shift, able to see her from the corner of his eye. the swell of her stomach is, at best, a trick of the light and a gathering of shadows beneath copious layers of fabric, and yet they are all acute aware of it. joan now leads from her pelvis ------ her abdomen proudly jutted and preparing the way. his lips press together curiously, as if tailoring a grin. had he done his utmost to protect this joy? could he stand to lose her as he had lost his late wife and child?
❛ it is more than a PROMISE -------- ‘tis a vow i intend to keep. ❜ he blinks, and the outside world reconfigures. the children, the changing winds, the murky windows: with a crack of his knuckle as his hands fold together, he regains recognition of where they are, and returns to the present. duly, his brows pinch together and he regards her with a cool stare, ❛ you denounced your claim to france upon our nuptials. why should our child be raised as a de guise? certainly your brothers have matters of their own to squabble over, rather than feign to provide clarity to ours. ❜
the devil works, but the prince of asturias works harder -------- or so it was said upon his return to florentine soil following lengthy travels across the vast continent. by way of meeting and parleying with foreign dignitaries and royals, mario had done his utmost to reinstate the prestige of the aragonese crown, dust away the rubble that marred their jewels, yet his efforts fell quite pitifully short in light of joan de guise’s condition -------- an announcement that had agitated europen society and commended their lineage to the very tip of any finely bred courtiers’ tongue. hope was a frangible, useless thing; and yet for the first in many arid summers of desolation, the prince had begun to experience a renewed sense of it stir within his marrow.
a foreign court was not the ideal eden for a child to be raised ( mario could attest to that by virtue of his own past ) nor a woman in so delicate a state, so as he watched from the windows overlooking the children bellowing with joy and brandishing their multi coloured ribbons in the courtyard below, the building blocks of preparations began to come together in his mind. where joan would complete her lying-in; where the babe, if it were to survive infancy, would be christened. it was not until his ears prickled to the sound of petticoats swishing that he muted his thoughts, temporarily, and felt a grin curve upon his lips as his wife joined him at the window.
❛ castillo de peracense, ❜ the prince mused aloud, gaze transfixed by the sight of ebullience beneath them. ❛ i will rip it from the emir’s deadened fingers, and we will have a mecca just as this. ❜
it was only a matter of time before the prince of wales’ mistress disturbed the alliances that secured england and aragon in matrimony. the affair that was vastly known across the length and breadth of the plantagenet’s perpetually dolor nation had already begun to place undue stress upon his niece’s ability to endear herself to the people. immediate upon arrival, a welsh diplomat, engaged in espionage for the crown, had informed mario of lady salisbury’s irreproachable place beside henry of wales ---- a jewel that not only glittered within the highest order of the anglican patrician, but within the coffers of the royal bedchamber itself.
as both companion to the princess and inamorata to the prince, the countess’ role was certainly an imposing one --- one that would daunt a family weaker and less seasoned than the trastámaras. and yet, mario did away with the notion that lianor montagu was an invulnerable woman ---- his niece would replace her in the future king’s bed, and they would find someone to swap her role as confidante. if not by persuasion, then by brute force ... by hook or by crook.
the stone floor of the chapel alerted mario of another’s presence ---- the clack of heels and the voluminous swish of skirts notifying him that the incomer was a woman. he released his hands from the clasp of prayer and rose from his knees, regarding, of all women, lady salisbury with a deep nod.
gruffly, he acknowledged the countess’ presence. ❛ tu señoría --- please, do not cease your prayers on my account. i was finishing as you entered. ❜ a dark brow rose upon the prince’s forehead. ❛ praying for the life of the queen, i suspect? ❜
𝐑 𝐄 𝐒 𝐔 𝐋 𝐓 𝐒 / nyx -- the personification and the goddess of night. her appearances are sparse in surviving mythology, but reveal her as a figure of such exceptional power and beauty that she is feared by zeus himself. she is fearless, spiteful and not afraid of a challenge.
𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐃 / she was the daughter of chaos, out of which all creation originated, an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night -------- a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of aither, the shining blue of the heavens. her opposite number was hemera ( day ) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. in ancient art nyx was depicted as a either a winged goddess or charioteer, sometimes crowned with an aureole of dark mists.
𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 / /
i find the juxtaposition between nyx and hemera fascinating ----- specifically as it relates to mario and his brother, once king of aragon. the sun king vs the dark prince. i’m looking forward to exploring this if we ever get a ferrando !!
never in a million years would i have pegged mario as nyx without this test, and whilst i’m not 100% sold on it, it’s without a doubt an interesting evaluation and one that i’ll keep in my back pocket for sure.
one thing that stands out to me as glaringly accurate is that darkness tends to symbolise his character --- shadowy, scheming, cunning, eclipsed by a brighter and more upright sun --- and nyx embodies this. food for thought for sure.
𝐑 𝐄 𝐒 𝐔 𝐋 𝐓 𝐒 / a warrior soul is one whose role in life is direct action and accomplishment, especially in the face of resistance. warriors are action-oriented and very down to earth, attracted to conflict, confrontation and challenge ( both inner and outer ). warriors tend to see causes to serve, struggles to be overcome, battles to be won. they are very physical, at home in their bodies, courageous and protective. they believe strongly in courage and loyalty.
all soul types can manifest positively or negatively in any given moment, as the individual chooses. the warrior's positive aspect is persuasion, being forceful and effective without being overbearing. in other words, respectfully persuasive. the warrior's negative form of manifestation is coercion, which means resorting to intimidation and brute force.
𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 / /
again, fairly accurate, though i’ll explore the various nuances in depth below.
things this evaluation got right : a warrior soul is one whose role in life is direct action. this rings unfortunately true for mario and has throughout his life, stemming from his ultimate loyalty to his father in acting as a whipping boy for the crown of aragon. it has since morphed into something he feels great pride over, even if gripped with supreme regret over the fall of his family. the ability to have been useful for both crown and country and thus cement a name for himself was a priceless, if not slightly bittersweet gift, borne out of cruelty.
things this evaluation got wrong : believe strongly in loyalty? perhaps ten years ago, this might’ve been true. courageous? sure, though it’s important to note the battles he’s fought and the wars he’s waged haven’t exactly been ‘noble. furthermore, whilst mario is indeed attracted to conflict, i would say his strengths lie primarily in coercion ( by way of intimidation, threats / blackmail, and brute force ) rather than the occasional dose of respectful persuasion.
things i’m ambivalent about : whether or not mario relies on physical or mental power / acuity. i think the former served him during his time in the spanish militia, whilst the former has aided him in more recent diplomatic and political undertakings.
𝐑 𝐄 𝐒 𝐔 𝐋 𝐓 𝐒 / you’re a little tough and prickly on the outside, but around people you trust and like, you’re actually nurturing and a total mom friend. if people take the time to work past your barbs — like your pessimistic and sometimes mean sense of humor, tbh — you reward them with loyalty. you might not be for everyone, but you are true to yourself. just be careful that you don’t push people away before they learn what a supportive human you can be.
𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 / /
again, how is a tea test so accurate? beats me, honestly !! i would wager to say that almost every aspect of this evaluation hits the nail on the head, and even confirms my suspicions that mario is the designated ( & self - appointed ) #mom friend. always the daddcle never the dad.
some points i’ve highlighted & expanded upon from the results :
tough and prickly on the outside? check. pessimistic and mean sense of humor? check. if anything, i would only replace the word ‘nurturing’ with a slightly more askew synonym, protective and mildly controlling of those whom he loves, he acts in what he believes is their best interests and though it may come across as domineering, it stems from a place of love and wars against the basest sense of nature vs nurture. he’ll keep his loved ones alive, he’ll keep them safe, but to mario there is no distinction between living and simply surviving.
reward with loyalty. this is something supremely important to mario and vital to his very character, it is something he felt his brother’s reign lacked and as a result is keen to make allies whilst in florence ---- if only his #stabby exterior would stop preventing him from having friends.
my request for mario to be a part of the mom friend society : he’s dependable, he’s a family man, he’ll tell you when you’re wrong, keeps things under control, a worrier, designated driver, could probably cook well in a modern scenario.
crownshqs challenge iii / character study.
word count : 2.7k / point count : 30.
001. describe your characters’ relationship with their mother or father, or both. minimum word count: 150.
his relationship with his father was strained. it was rumoured that the late king of aragon believed his youngest son to be borne of his wife’s transgressions with a noble in court --- whether or not this is true never came to light, and so he died plagued with doubt and mistrust. their relationship was one predicated on what mario could do for king and country; how best he could serve both entities until they fused as one. the prince of asturias was glad to comply, finding use in servitude until it now no longer served him and he now itches to be the head of the cobra that rises most gloriously from the trastamara’s indignant depths. in doing so, deliberately transgressing against his father and the vow he made to him upon his death bed to protect his brother’s dominion.
on the other hand, his relationship with isabel of navarre, his mother, was strong and openly faithful.
mario mourns her loss keenly as he relied upon her sage wisdom during the rudimentary years of his youth. isabel was one of few to understand her husband’s temper and used this understanding to her advantage. some say she was just as important to the crown as he, having bestowed unto it the realm of navarre’s vast wealth, though upon her death the king, besieged with grief and an emotional outpouring entirely alien to him, sought to bury all reminiscences of her.
002. what are your characters’ most prominent physical features? what is a feature that they are most insecure about? what are they proudest of?
his features are delightfully archaic ----- low brow bone; dark, almond - shaped eyes, his mouth is wide and lips thin; his cheeks are entirely hollow, his jaw razor sharp, his temple is angular, bones slightly protruding, hairline horizontal. vanity is a sin, and whilst mario is far from observant of the faith, he also isn’t particularly vain and has, since his youth, been supremely critical of himself.
his lofty height ( an oddity in medieval spain ) is something mario has used to his advantage upon both the battlefield and in court, and would likely constitute the feature he is proudest of ---- though in actuality, it is simply the feature he finds most useful.
003. how vain is your character? do they find themselves attractive? what is their worst flaw, and are they aware of it?
mario is not vain in a physical sense; he will not put his own attraction on airs, though he does believe himself to be a capable man. cunning, artful, intelligent. his political acumen and militaristic savvy outweighs the few squabbles he holds over the physicality ---- as he does not give much thought or care into his appearance other than appearing clean, neat, and #unapproachable. save for the numerous jewels and heirlooms gracing his fingertips, mario does not dress ostentatiously and deliberately keeps his attire minimalist and shadowy.
004. what is your character’s ranking on the kinsey scale?
4 / 6 : this makes you homosexual with more than incidental heterosexual tendencies.
005. describe your character’s happiest memory. minimum word count: 150.
his happiest memory is entwined with a sense of bittersweet loss.
the prince’s relationship with his long time mistress simonetta de medici was fading into nothingness by the time her lying in had begun, and had all but extinguished when she was delivered unto a son, christened with the name mauricio somaglia de medici, sometime in november of 1435.
although the relationship was of a carnal nature ( and thus a pointed affront to the trastamara’s papal ties ) the bastard’s birth was soon publicized high and low, from cordoba to naples, when the couple appointed mario’s eldest nephew, the prince of aragon, as godfather. it was the first time mario felt intense, true devotion that was not directly linked to fear and the desire of power, and though his affections for simonetta had blatantly dwindled, his love for his boy burrowed into his soul and has remained rooted there ever since.
the king of aragon eventually bestowed a title and duchy upon mauricio, the queen accepted him into the fold of the family, and to mark yet another first, mario began to fathom what it meant to truly protect the things one loves. at eighteen years old, he became a father; at eighteen years old, he swore to defend his son with his very life.
006. is there one event in your characters’ life that they would like to erase from their past? why? minimum word count: 200.
there is an immediate guilt in his soul that the first thought that springs to mind is not his wife’s death, but rather their marriage in the first place.
carolina de sousa, daughter of the duke of balsemão and relation to the king of portugal, was pretty. that is what mario was told upon their betrothal. and indeed, she was. her hair a brilliant ruby shade, her eyes the hue of the adriatic. she was young, though not much younger than he, and sprightly and clever. her future was radiant and her groom grim, untouched by her beauty.
it was clear that she did not accept the presence of her husband’s son in her court, but she tolerated it with prim forbearance.
the marriage was short - lived and grew tumultuous when it was revealed that mario did not share in her deeply rooted catholic faith; they fought endlessly, she feared for their souls and prayed feverishly. the news of her pregnancy was soured by the inhabitable nature of their marriage, and ended in the death of both her and the child; a girl. childbed fever, the physicians assured him, had taken her shortly before her body was interred in the cold ground in a private ceremony. the royal family of aragon publicly offered their condolences to portugal, though no further statement was made, and mario was soon conscripted into spain’s militaristic forces.
carolina’s place of burial was later ravaged and ruined by cordoboan forces, the site of her final resting place and that of her child’s consigned to oblivion.
but, strangely enough, it is not the day of her death he wishes to wipe out. it is that their marriage ever took place that he regrets most.
007. let’s talk favourites! what is their favourite colour, food, and season? what, in a modern setting, would be your character’s favourite song?
black or scarlet; gazpachuelo, a spanish stew; winter or fall. his favourite song ... remains to be seen ( or heard? ) though he would be fond of opera and traditional spanish hymns.
008. can you define a turning point in your character’s life?
the most obvious answer would be when his brother’s crown was knocked off by the emir of cordoba and his armies, several thousand strong. but a new epoch in his life began when he decided to usurp his brother, and right the wrongs done to his country.
009. is your character an early morning bird or a night owl? at what time do they get most of their work done?
both. he is early to rise and late to retire. his work is completed in the shadows, when the world is still, on tenterhooks. when the moon has just risen beyond the clouds and the sun threatens to spill across the starless sky. on the other hand, when mario was conscripted into the military, many of his battles were won beneath the scorching heat of the spanish sun and his diplomatic duties seen to once twilight had vanquished the earth.
010 a. what other character, a npc or someone apart of the rp, is your character completely real with? who knows them best, has seen them at their most vulnerable, knows their innermost and basest fears?
b. if your character does not have this person, why? do they long for one?
there isn’t anyone, really, barring his son and even then mario keeps secrets from him merely to protect both his youth and his life. the same goes for joan, ignorance is bliss and safer in hindsight, with the added fear that she will share what little he entrusts her with in her society of women or with her brothers, whom he does not trust. there is no limit to the wags of her tongue in his mind and if he were to grant the de guise family an inch they would take a mile.
mario does not long for one; he’s a solitary creature by nature, and yet, as his writer, i believe it would be beneficial for him to have a shoulder to lean on, an individual who can quell the mania festering within him to reclaim and assume the aragonese throne.
although, again, he is a solitary creature, this should not discredit the stalwart bonds he has with his family and nephews. there is little he would not do for them and he has an archival history of protecting them and their father. family over everything.
011. is your character a neat or messy person?
neat to a fault. despises clutter and disorder as it precludes him from productivity and preys upon his subconscious.
012. does your character have any irrational fears or phobias?
rooted in a widespread fear of sickness, he holds an apprehension for childbirth and childbirth related illnesses, obviously not for himself but for his wife, joan of asturias, as his first princess consort was lost to childbed fever in 1438. hence, after eight years of marriage, the couple is childless ( not only for this purpose, but i’ll delve into that later. ) furthermore, he fears losing the portuguese royal family’s generosity, having been milking their familial ties and gilded coffers whilst in exile, and pins his hopes on the idea that his rueful aspirations to usurp the throne will not be revealed before his designs are set into motion, as it would most certainly lead to the execution of himself and his wife.
013. does your character have an underlying passion or trait that influences all aspects of their life?
unwavering loyalty once to the crown of aragon, and now to its decimated country.
014. what might your character’s ideal romantic person be?
he doesn’t hold romantic notions and albeit he’s been through his fair share of both women and men, none constitute as ‘ideal,’ perhaps purposefully flawed. this is something mario has strongly cleaved to in his life ------- he believes perfection is rooted in hypocrisy, and has zealously enjoyed unraveling joan’s once immaculate exterior in the years of their marriage. he prefers those with interest, those with stories to tell or hoard, anything remotely consummate is undesirable in his eyes.
moreover, it is unlikely that mario has a fully formed idea of romance -------- he believes that it ultimately serves no purpose, considers it superflous, and concedes that even his beloved joan’s place in his life and at his side is the result of gingerly plotted foreign politics on his behalf.
015. describe your character’s hands. are they small, long, calloused, smooth, stubby, dexterous or clumsy? do they wear any jewelry and would they wear polish in a modern setting?
the structure of his hands diverge somewhere between having notable feminine qualities ( well - groomed, soft, pale white, thin and dexterous ) and being exceptionally masculine: worn by years of warfare, bony, raised knuckles, his palm wide and concave, fingertips lean and long, nails neatly trimmed. the veins curling around his wrist and upon the back of his hand are made prominent by his porcelain skin, a blue rivulet running beneath the surface, and his wrist is thick yet flexible.
his hands move freely, despite being adorned by copious rings and precious stones, metal heirlooms that clash against the prince’s unpretentious attire. there is a certain beauty, an exquisite appeal to them, though they are not the hands you’d grasp if you’ve fallen on your luck.
they are the hands around your throat, pad of his thumb brushing against the leap of your pulse. they are the hands that sign death warrants, the hands that hold the knife lodged into ceasar’s spine. they are the hands that roll the die.
016. how does your character smell? what is their favourite scent?
the prince’s personal fragrance is minty; fresh basil, sharp and slightly nauseating cologne. rather than being pleasant perfumed he is announced by his scent, a blend of oils made from myrhh readily available within the aragonese court. his favourite scent is the smell of dawn, the crisp lushness of grass after the rain.
017. how would your muse describe their religious beliefs?
though mario leans toward religious agnosticism, he promotes catholicism on a mere political proviso and will continue to do so until his dying breath. he strongly believes that piety strengthens the monarchy and breathes life into its supremacy. as such, he has had little difficulty supporting aragon’s contentious religious crusades and is himself involved in the spanish military and it’s fervent campaigns to expand christendom into the ottoman and russian empires.
018. what rules does your muse live by, if any?
‘learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.’
019. does your muse overshare, or are they more private?
he is a private person both deliberately and by nature. he shares only what he must and what would, if gone unspoken, bring harm unto those he deems close or the crown. in essence, ‘i would rather bleed out than sit here and talk about my feelings.’ he’s made the mistake of loosening his tongue around men -- typically compatriots -- before and will not do so again without demanding bloodshed.
020. is your muse a gossiper? are they more likely to argue with their fists or tongue? what does their voice sound like?
he is the first to criticize gossipers and openly supports a scold’s bridle ( a medieval instrument of punishment, as a form of torture and public humiliation, for gossiping ) so, no, he isn’t one to needlessly pry open his jaw. both, although days of warfare, in recent years, seem behind him in the public eye. mario’s voice is deep, gravelly, and husky. slightly sensual, placed upon it is a rich and distinct castilian spanish twang ( yes, that does mean that little lisp is present when he speaks in his mother tongue. ) yet, too, his voice is stately and unforgiving; at times, as warm as an iberian summer, as other instances cold as the winter’s frost, purposeful and outright, he does not beat around the bush.
021. is your muse a … pessimist or optimist … lover or fighter … believer in happy endings … believer in love at first sight?
he is a pessimist who does not believe in predestination or divine intervention. a fighter, by personal selection; a lover when it suits his ends. he is not a believer in happy endings, but as with harry, a believer in the endings one settles for and is content to live with. and, strangely enough, he is a believer in love at first sight ... only, in a different and more idealistic world. if it exists, he is yet to step a foot into its territory.
022. what sense of humour does your character have?
dry, dark, slightly callous, often morbid and seldom at his own expense.
perhaps difficult to pin down as ‘humour’ and not simply ‘personal attacks that he seems to find amusing but come across as mildly threatening.’ but, as morose as mario has a tendency to be, if he does kid around with you --- that means your presence is somewhat tolerated and you should definitely rebuttal, but watch your ground, because he strikes at other’s weaknesses.
023. what bad habits does your character have?
he grinds his teeth quite a bit and suffers with oral discomfort as a result. he’ll also shut himself out and act as a recluse if tormented with ominous thoughts.
024. how does your character feel about growing old?
the thought of growing old is an unpleasant one, especially without a legitimate heir to secure his claim to the throne.
025. does your character prefer adventure to safety and security?
adventure, certainly --- though that is a personal preference. as a husband, father and prince, he must take their needs and safety into account and as he climbs in age he finds himself leaning toward security if only for their benefit.
no using google, every answer must start with the first letter of your muse’s name !
NAME : mario.
ANIMAL : monkey.
BOY’S NAME : malachai.
GIRL’S NAME : melissa.
COLOR : maroon.
MOVIE : maleficent.
SOMETHING YOU WEAR : mismatched socks.
DRINK : martini.
FOOD : muffins, mom’s spaghetti.
SOMETHING FOUND IN A BATHROOM : mirrors.
PLACE : mykonos.
REASON FOR BEING LATE : making tea.
“That is, if you believe God to mean peace. Not all do.” Like most of his compositions, it was rooted in one single concept: terror. Such was God. Such was the ivory of Mario’s skin under his touch. Such were the times in between. Carmo waves a hand then, dismissing his own words, “But that was commissioned work. Try as I might, that does not reflect who I am or what I believe. The tragedy of an artist is, of course, that too often we spend our talents fulfilling other people’s wishes instead of our own.”
Joan. For a moment Carmo had foolishly forgotten that Mario wasn’t an independent man such as he, but the name alone does well to remind him. Albeit resentful for his own lack of nobility, these were the things Carmo couldn’t find himself to envy.
“Careful on promises that can’t be kept, Your Highness. On the joy della principessa or the women’s fairness.” Thirty-eight years on this earth and Carmo hadn’t yet found one to be worth it. “I have heard children do well to make one bitter.” He shoots Mario a pointed look. “How many?”
a touché lies beneath the tongue, but as the conversation is directed elsewhere, moving toward ravenna’s eternal plight as an artist, there it also dies; inaudible and gangrenous. ❛ i see. yet, dear signore, i am disinclined to believe that your trade is not without benefit. your name transcends the highest and lows of society and i hear that you’ve amassed a fortune. you must itch for a duchy or principality to secure it. ❜ if there is a change of heart within carmo at the mention of his wife, mario does not detect it ------ joan’s role, after all, lied in enriching aragon. traces of affection, if existent, were merely superfluous benefits that eased the once incongruous match.
a chuckle husks between his lips, the shake of his head granted. ❛ i’m afraid such claims are falsified. living past thirty makes one bitter --- the children are not entirely to blame, though they shan’t be absolved, either. ❜ thinking of his boy, now a man grown and born of an illegitimate union, the prince’s spirits lifted. ❛ nay. none, carmo. say a prayer for me, for my wife was once groomed to be a bride of Christ. i may be no more than a second spouse in comparison. tell me, are there any sons bearing your face across the continent? ❜
“Mario,” he says the name as though it’s something holy. And perhaps there is some type of religion to it, yes, the way he remembers. The title had slipped Carmo’s mind completely, his mind instead drifting away as his eyes fall to every corner of a face he knows well as he gets to know it again, the changes he’d missed over the years. “We are a long way from Portugal, Your Highness.” The same way they make it in stories, this moment had somewhat stopped in time and Florence’s silence seemed to contribute to this, no such things as the buzzling from townspeople to snap him away from it. Carmo shakes his head then, repressing laugh; a single brow quirking up in interest. "What else would a man like me be good for, if not that? If Your Highness believes my music to be that of peace, I’m afraid you have been mistaken in your listening.“
the signor’s slowness to speak, as though his tongue had grown leaden with marzipan, provoked the subtlest of quirks to flick the corners of his mouth and mold it upwards. years had past since mario last glanced upon the composer in the flesh, yet his voice, akin to the melodies he wrote, remained hauntingly familiar ------- a baritone echo that, having survived the glaciation of winter, returned in full bloom upon the birth of spring and evoked an immediate impetus in the prince to reconcile after so long apart. in, of course, a manner that was a far cry from their previous rendezvous.
❛ forgive me, carmo, you know i do not consider myself an artist as you are, though i believe your... dio per tutti. god for all must, by extent, mean peace for all, no? ❜ the prince returned, a now full - fledged and shark - like grin developing upon his features. ❛ come, it has been far too long and joan will be overjoyed to see you ---- fortunately, the wine here is not the piss we were served in portugal and the women not half so foul. ❜
It was the name he’d found for it — the thirty-something minute long scenic cantata which consumed the halls of the St. Peter’s Basilica as the coronation took place. Perhaps Carmo should have paid more attention to his own musicians, or the Pope in his holy self as the traditions unfolded; instead, his eyes fell on those in attendance, searching otherwise stoic faces for a reaction as soon as the last note hit heavy, lingering, and then fading into the air.
Dio Per Tutti: Breve Orazione had been but a commissioned work of torture, the ink seeping heavy into the paper as Carmo put each passage down, succumbing his mind yet again to the requirements of the Church. God for all was a silly concept and not worth of his expertise, but he’d managed to twist it into something beautiful, almost haunting. Perhaps people’s memories would hold on to it for a while longer.
The trip back had been a long one, but Carmo appreciates the time to think. The empty fields have a certain magic to them, with the notes he wishes to frame them into. Off his carriage however, it takes all of a full breath to realize the emptiness that’s around him, the narrow streets of Florence only down to mere landscape. That is, except for the person in front of him; the first face he’d seen in several hours.
“Quiet out here,” Carmo says, glancing around them — the pathways, alleys, and beyond. “People still in hiding after the celebrations?” Must’ve been a good one.
there was indeed a palpable stillness to the air, a discordant clash from the whirring buzz and ever present hum in the streets, in the days leading up to pope callixtus’ coronation. the event of the century ( perhaps the grandest florence had ever, and would ever, witness ) had come in like a lion, out like a lamb ... in seemingly the blink of an eye. yet, the trastámaras monumental success in rising from the depths of isolation and exile, by planting and rooting a relation of their own upon the papal throne, did not mean they were at liberty to now breathe a sigh of relief. this was especially true in the prince of viana’s mind; crowning a pope had been easy ------ making him a god would be, comparably, far thornier.
similar to many years prior, mario heeded whispers of the italian composers’ arrival before ever seeing him in the flesh. his name and deeds were celebrated in rome, this much he knew, for providing the underpinning of callixtus’ coronation and thus his presence was more coveted than ever. recollections of their previous encounter readily flooding in, as though through a once closed conduit, mario regarded him with a subtle quirk of a brow ----- hard - won lines forming around his lips as they were touched by the shadow of a grin.
❛ don’t bring the devil ----- ❜ he warned. ❛ florence was nigh unbearable before the coronation. this, i assure you, is a welcome change. ❜
areudirty
dailybridgerton
blakekathryn
titsay
