do you believe the rumors about MILO of HOUSE TREZZA ? a recent portrait of them reminds me of JACK WOLFE, because HE is so STUDIOUS AND RESERVED. however, whispers have been saying they’re actually SOCIALLY INEPT AND IMPRESSIONABLE. maybe that’s why i think of hands that are only steady when pressed into earth, an endless array of medicine and tinctures, thinking more than you will ever be able to vocalize
name: milo trezza
age: 30
gender: cis male
pronouns: he/him
sexuality: demisexual, ???-romantic
personality: quiet, insightful, a green thumb, hardly ever in touch with his own emotions; a prodigy with an eidetic memory; a loner who secretly yearns to belong
tw: illness
milo was brought into the world with seemingly no issue, but by the time he was a toddling child it became clear that something was very wrong. the best doctors in verona told his parents that he was of a delicate constitution, but after countless exams and treatments, many of which left the young boy worse for wear, they could offer no further answers. he was often laid up in bed for days and even weeks at a time, too weak to do anything other than sleep and read. he longed to be like other children, particularly his siblings, and entreated them to visit as often as possible.
milo made his ravenous way through all of the books in the family library in no time at all, and constantly begged for more. his uncanny knack for remembering everything unnerved some people, and so too did his way of staring at the person, as if no one had taught the boy when to look away. one could blame his lack of social mores for his isolated childhood, but it was something that had been ingrained in him since birth - something he has struggled to overcome his entire life.
the fire was a pivotal moment for the entire trezza clan, and milo's already afflicted lungs were made all the worse for it. it hardly helped that he watched his beloved brother dash back into the flames, his stumbling attempts to run after alessandro - or at least call for him to come back, please - hampered by his illness. he stayed in tuscany with alessandro while he recovered, watching over him from his own sickbed. when the brothers eventually joined the rest of the family, milo spent the entire journey clutching a remnant of one of the grapevines that had been unaffected by fire.
quick-fire things because i get bored of writing in paragraphs:
milo adores plants, and looking after them always lifts his spirits
despite working with dirt so much, he's very fastidious (sometimes overly so) about his hygiene
now in verona, he's trying hard to make friends and be more social, but is definitely struggling
his illness flares up often, but he has it under control - or so he tells his siblings
speaking of his siblings, he adores and admires the heck out of them
taught himself close-up magic as a bedridden child (he thinks it's cool, please humor him)
the vibe: socially awkward genius with perpetual puppy dog eyes
He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Milo at the end of the corridor, but his heart was slower to settle than his mind. He needed a minute or two to regain his lost composure.
Finally, Fabrizio allowed himself a few steps toward his brother. When he reached him, he placed a hand on his shoulder, as if to convince himself that his brother was real, not a ghost.
"Have you heard what happened?" Fabo asked, pursing his lips and lowering his gaze to the floor. "It's a real tragedy."
He didn't tell him the truth - that one of the servants had misunderstood what had happened and mistakenly told Fabrizio that his younger brother had fallen by another's hand. He would never forget the initial shock and horror he had experienced upon hearing the news. God had taken pity on him, giving him the opportunity to see with his own eyes that Milo was still in their home, and the truth had quickly come to light, sparing Trezza from a far greater disaster.
milo yawned and rubbed the heel of one hand into his eyes, absently pulling his cloak off with the other. it was early in the trezza household, but the youngest son had never even made it to bed - not because of a wild soiree or midnight affair, mind you, but because he had stayed out all night plotting the stars. he blinked blearily as his eldest brother appeared in front of him, vaguely wondering if he'd been waiting for milo. fabrizio, along with his other siblings, was one of a rare few whose touch milo actually welcomed, so when the older man's hand met his shoulder he smiled and covered it with his own. still, something seemed to be troubling his brother, his aura hanging even more heavily than usual. milo's smile slowly slid away, his brow now furrowing. "n - no, i have not. what has - are you all right, fabo?" he asked. his brother's well-being was more important to him than almost any news he had come bearing, unless...."is - is everyone else all right? sandro, chiara, liona? what's happened?"
closed starter with @ccquettish (open to either character!)
location: the old stone bridge
if you asked milo how long he had been scratching away at his notebook, he would have estimated anywhere between fifteen minutes and five hours. time management had never been his strong suit, as his family could attest, but botany certainly was. the object of today's fascination was a lichen growing on one side of the rarely-trafficked bridge, a bright shade of green he found particularly alluring. he had been doing his best to capture the plant's shape with his kohl pencil, but stopped to consider how he might recreate the shade itself on paper. footsteps sounded behind him and then stopped, and he frowned down at his drawing. knowing the bridge's reputation for lovers and enemies alike, anxiety began to churn in his stomach. "i - i am not here for a fight - or a rendezvous, for that matter," he added quickly, face burning red.
closed starter with @fatefulz
location: the grounds of the trezza estate
it was hardly a secret that milo, paradoxically considering his devotion to science and innovation, detested change. routine and order, that was his preferred way of things. when fabrizio had announced his intentions to wed, the youngest trezza son had been thrown into a bit of a tailspin; it had been just the four of them for so long, after all - what more could any of them want? it took time, to be sure, but eventually he had warmed up to liona. his brother loved her, and she him, and once milo came to this realization he was finally able to accept her as a sister. he was usually quite pleased to see her, but on this particular occasion he was surprised. it was a brisk, chilly day, and there had been no doubt in his mind that he would be the only one out here - yet there his sister-in-law stood. "oh, hello," he greeted, pulling his coat around himself more securely. "what brings you out on a day like this?"
closed starter with @destinoinverona (chiara)
location: just outside of chiara's bedroom
milo was not pacing - he was merely counting the steps between his room and chiara's. sure, he had done it a few times now, but the first rule of science was to be thorough, was it not? he sighed and looked down at the contraption in his hands, a device made with precision, care, and yes, love. he had felt entirely useless since chiara's latest trauma, avoiding her more often than not to keep from saying or doing something that might upset her further. but that was hardly the behavior of a loving brother itself, was it not? and so he found himself nervously ambling outside of his sister's room, trying to work up the courage to knock. finally he took a deep breath and stepped up to the door. holding the device preciously in one hand, he lifted the other and gently rapped his knuckles against the wood.
closed starter with @alcssandro
location: just outside of his workshop
milo had been reclusive lately - even more so than usual. he barely slept, hardly ate, and could not be coaxed out of his workshop by any member of the family. he tried to convince himself that all of this was merely to sustain the momentum of his latest creations, yet progress eluded him. this evening found him working oh so carefully on a particularly delicate mechanism, holding his breath as he reached inside to fasten a coupling. his shaking hands slipped and the tip of the tool jammed itself against the fragile bearings underneath, snapping several. with a sharp inhalation he quickly pulled the instrument back out and threw it onto the table in frustration, one hand reaching up to tug painfully at his hair. all right - perhaps he was in need of respite. he rubbed the heel of one hand into his burning eyes, thinking that perhaps it might be wise to at least attempt to sleep. his gaze landed on a familiar figure almost as soon as he had opened the door, and his heart seized with a strange feeling that felt a bit like guilt. "o - oh, good evening, fratello. or - or is it morning....?" he wondered, trailing off as he looked around in search of something that might indicate the time.
the reaction is instant. "oh my! lord milo trezza. what are ever the odds to run into you down here," sibille breathed out with a gentle laugh and felt even the facade of trepidation able to break. the two families were certainly intertwined with all of the politics and marriage speak and so on and so on. and heavens above knew it could certainly 'go on.' stepping from the shadows away and over towards the trezza boy, sibille smiled and let her eyes wander over him. as if asking the same thing in return. what was he doing out here? "what am i doing out here? well, it is times filled with the dreariness of death- i suppose i was reminded of this place because of it. felt like a fitting sort of place to be. what of you my good lord milo trezza?"
milo squinted against the gathering dark, vaguely realizing that he had left his spectacles at home, and finally recognized the woman he was speaking with. "oh - er, hello, lady orsini," he greeted with another bow. "y - yes, it is a rare occasion indeed for a chance meeting to occur here." he kept his gaze averted as he so often did, but at her response to his question he frowned slightly and stole a glance at her. "right," he replied slowly. oh, but what did he know - perhaps she truly did find comfort amongst the dead. "yes, well - it is certainly a fitting place in which to ponder one's own mortality. or is yours a more spiritual quest, rather than philosophical?" he asked. "oh, there is a particular fern that seems to thrive in a very specific location here," he eagerly explained, pointing back the way he had arrived. "i have been drawing it and taking notes for weeks now. it is truly fascinating, especially considering that the climate and soil of italy are not particularly known for being hospitable to this genus. is that not remarkable?"
closed starter for: @milotrezza
where: library of verona.
the library was more rosalina's home than the ignazio residence. in fairness, the libraries there were good too. she was incredibly proud of her own highly curated collection. tucked away in her usual spot -- a hiding place, far above the main expanse of the library -- she emitted a soft sigh as she finished another book. time find a new one and hope she could find one she hadn't already read. book stuffed under her arm, she rose to begin her descent only to jump out of her skin -- book thumping to the floor -- when another person materialised from nowhere. "oh my god," rosalina gasped, hand on her chest. "... i thought i was the only person who knew about this space." though she couldn't say she was surprised that it was milo trezza that also knew about it. she smiled at him. "here to avoid all of the blame talk, too? i do not think i have ever appreciated the escapism books provide quite so much as i do right now."
milo had been chastised about reading while walking on several occasions throughout his life, but it was a lesson that never seemed to stick. what with the recent unpleasantness, he was more desperate than ever to cling to some semblance of normalcy - which, for milo, meant sinking into a book. he was just reaching to turn the page when a voice suddenly spoke nearby, and he nearly hit himself in the face when his feet came to an abrupt stop. he managed to catch it in time, but his breathing came hard and fast as a result of the shock. ordinarily he would fear one of his episodes approaching, but he was able to calm himself surprisingly quickly when he recognized his companion. "oh," he said, looking from rosalina to the book she had dropped before the realization occurred to him. "oh, my sincerest apologies," he continued, scrambling to retrieve the tome and offer it back to her. "i - i am truly sorry, i pray no harm was done." he traced an absent fingertip over the corner of his own book, his hands perpetually in motion. "well - yes, actually," he admitted in a sheepish tone. his sister was so upset about having seen the dead man firsthand, and rather than comforting her he had left her behind to seek refuge for himself. what kind of brother was he? "these are troubling times. m - might i see you safely home, lady ignazio?" he requested, valiantly attempting to convince himself that such an act was merely intended to make up for his lapse in character rather than any selfish intent.
"no idea at all?" instantly, sibille could feel the gentle tugging at her heart to mess with the other. he seemed like the nervous type by the sounds of his voice. "no idea, no harm. all of it so safe, but in trying times like these and in a place of death? how ever should i trust that?" her lips turned up slightly, but even so she kept her distance still. one or two steps forward, but nothing too crazy. confidence was one thing, recklessness was ano-...well, she was also quite reckless yes. but even so, there was a measure to that. "how about we exchange some names? that way i can trust to know you or know of you and we can feel a little more at ease hmm?"
milo shook his head, blinking innocently back at the woman. he would never dream of hurting anyone, but that was difficult to get across, was it not? hopefully she could see that he was hardly a threat, what with his scrawny frame and difficulty catching his breath. as she continued, he frowned, something like suspicion churning in his mind. while it was true that he often had a difficult time in construing the precise nature of one's comments and tone, he detected an unmistakable edge to her voice - one that almost seemed playful. he clutched the strap of his bag closer, an unconscious habit to soothe his nerves. "er - right, sure, where are my manners," he remarked with a nervous laugh. surely his brothers had brought him up better than this, shaping him to be a gentleman in all circumstances. "i am milo trezza," he reported with a brief bow. "what - er - what are you doing out here at dusk?"
while a destination for some in the days before, it did feel as though more people lingered in the area around the tombs after the death...-nay, murder of lord apollo. it had people lingering on the thoughts of mortality it seemed. which was a rational through line. sibille, though, found some amounts of frustration mounting. this was her place to go after a decent score or a place to be alone to think. too many seemed to find the place creepy on nights that were not celebratory.
the thief sighed to herself, side stepping a large ornate statue to the scala family and went deeper still. no one else was usually here. actually, never here. so when she stepped into the deepest parts and heard the sound of footsteps, she froze slightly. "i could do without the fear of someone in the dark. especially in these shadowed times. who ever else is in this tomb, please make yourself known-" and she even added a little wiggle in her tone, to make it seem like fear.
milo swore under his breath as he finally realized that darkness had fallen, knowing that he was running late for dinner with his family. he plucked up the papers strewn about the grounds and stuffed them into his rucksack, quietly grumbling at the disarray but knowing that timeliness took precedence to order in a situation like this. he nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice sounded out, the pages slipping out of his grasp. "i - i mean no harm," he called back. milo squinted hard against the dusk, and finally he was able to spot those last missing papers. snatching them up, he hugged them preciously to his chest as he walked quickly toward the exit. he startled again when he laid eyes on another - the owner of that disembodied voice, no doubt. "m - my apologies," he stuttered, trying to calm his breathing before he had one of his episodes. "i truly had no idea that anyone else was here."
addressed to: @milotrezza for lord milo trezza
where: masquerade ball of course
thus far, the evening had been relatively tame for emeline. now, that is not to say that nothing had transpired. already the families were making comments to one another about who was hiding what. and almost certainly she had sworn she had seen opposite 'sided' people dancing and running off together, if her intuition of who they were was to be right. it was more like watching performances than being present for actual events. it was more how she enjoyed these types of gatherings.
even so, there was an excitement to her. a masquerade! how romantic. the idea had made her want to swoon. watching the ways people spoke and dance to one another. it felt ripe with the possibility of love. "oh, my apologies. i-i was lost in thought there for a moment," she said to another as she had drifted into their path. "would...would you like a drink? i was supposed to be retrieving one for a friend but they have disappeared."
milo had no earthly idea as to where any of his siblings were, but he was vaguely surprised to find that he did not feel particularly unsettled by their absence. ordinarily he found parties and events to be unpleasant (to say the least), a sensory nightmare of light and sound, and he only muddled through with the help of his family. tonight, however, was a bit different; every attendant was disguised, costumes and masks as far as the eye could see, and he found it oddly comforting. as intelligent as milo was, he still struggled to get through conversations with anyone he wasn't related to, perpetually overlooking cues in the other person's face and body language. but the presence of masks removed one of the difficulties, and he was eager to discover if discourse might now come more easily.
he adjusted his mask - modified for as much comfort as possible, of course - and gazed around the ballroom, wondering who he might attempt to speak with in order to test out his theory. he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and proceeded to watched the person materialize in front of him, staring at her blankly for a moment and craning his neck to see who she was addressing before he realized that it was him. well, perhaps masks would not make him less awkward after all....."oh - no apologies necessary," he said, pasting on a smile that he hoped would make sandro proud. he followed her gaze to the glasses she held, and before he even realized what he was doing he had accepted one of them. "yes, sure, thank you. er - salute," he toasted, clinking against hers before taking a sip. "any particular inspiration for your costume?"
features softened further, a placid smile painted across lips. "i know that you will try your absolute hardest to do so," alessandro began diplomatically, the hand remaining on milo's shoulder to administer a gentle squeeze as he noted the gesture was welcomed. "but i also want you to know, that it is perfectly fine if you do not. only success and failure in this particular endeavour are at risk -- nothing else." of course, milo may not heed his words at all. sandro knew they were very much alike in their tendency to ascribe significant meaning to something so small and insignificant to others. he made a mental note to keep an eye on this experiment's progress and its crucial outcome. emitting a soft chuckle, he blinked in surprise as milo voiced the very thought he'd just had. perhaps they were spending too much time together. "i know what you mean," alessandro felt quite the same way about his own use of them, and the pain medicine he was always hesitant to take. with a nod, he collected two glasses and placed them on the table between them. "you're welcome," two healthy pours later, he pushed the furthest glass towards milo and retook his seat opposite. "is this the only experiment you have been doing recently?"
milo's head, still resting against his elder brother's wrist, nodded slightly. ordinarily, he led with his mind rather than his heart, but where his siblings were concerned it was another matter entirely. logically he knew that they loved him (even if he often questioned why) and that he could do nothing to cause them to cease their affections, but it certainly did not stop him from wanting to impress them, to help them, to make them tolerant if not proud to share a surname with him. when he was in a more philosophical state of mind he wondered how moral such desires were, if he only did such things in order to secure the attention and affection of his family, but such a line of inquiry almost always made him feel sick and was terminated as a self-preservational instinct. "i know. but i - i want it, too," he admitted softly, gaze downcast. "i miss home." he felt his pale face flush almost immediately, reaching forward to grasp the shears and set to work once more as if he could dispel the words hanging in the air with such movement. sandro agreed with him, and the authenticity in his tone eased some old ache in milo's soul whose presence he hadn't even been aware of until it was gone. he hated what had happened to his brother, of course, but some little part of him could hardly help but be appreciative that one of his siblings finally understood his plight. in a perfect world they were both strong, healthy men, but as it was it certainly helped to have someone with whom to commiserate. he took the glass and swirled its contents around - not in some show of wine-drinking expertise, but merely to watch the liquid roil in its mesermizing pattern for a moment. "i have been building something for enzo - a self-sustaining fetch machine; he would deposit the ball into the top, and the pressure would cause the mechanism to project it back out at least a dozen yards. what do you think?"
#wylan hiding his smile, as if he’s afraid to really enjoy the moment. #or that he just isn’t used to being happy or letting anyone see him happy #the cutest
a soft 'ah' of understanding given in response and he hoped milo hadn't read too much into the question and imagined alessandro had expected it to be going well. it might have been true enough that he sort of did expect milo to have solved the unsolvable -- but he would never let that slip to the other. there was simply nothing the other could do ( or fail to do ) that could ever disappoint him. he blinked in surprise, wincing as the shears crashed to the table, gaze flickering from the instrument to his younger brother's face in an instant. he kept himself still, half in anticipation of needing to jump in, and half as a reminder to not intervene unless asked, or absolutely necessary. he hadn't been able to really understand a burning need for autonomy before his own was under threat. but he felt as if he understood milo more than ever -- a silver lining that had arisen unexpectedly from otherwise unfortunate circumstances. a reassuring smile blossomed and he waved a hand dismissively, gently clasping milo's shoulder for a moment -- just to satisfy his own need to do so. "no need to apologise," he was just glad he'd managed to settle himself. "mmh, good idea. do you find they help?" spinning once more to face milo, hands on his hips, he nodded a thanks. "i will leave the problematic bottle for the next soul, then." collecting an unopened red, he moved to lean back against the cadenza and examined the bottle. "would you like a glass?"
milo fidgeted in his seat, resisting the call to draw further into himself as a punishment for directing his frustration at his beloved brother. "i - i can do it, though! i will do it, i promise," he proclaimed, looking up at sandro with wide and beseeching eyes. the elder trezza placed a hand on milo's shoulder, and the corners of his mouth quirked upwards as he moved to rest his head against his brother's wrist, knowing that all was forgiven. touch had always been a nebulous concept in milo's world, welcomed from only a small group of people and them alone. were it almost anyone else with their hand on his shoulder milo would have squirmed in discomfort, but instead he was soothed and bolstered by his brother's gentle gesture. at sandro's question milo scrunched his mouth to the side in thought as he picked up a discarded leaf, twirling it absently in his fingers. "sometimes, yes. but - they frighten me somewhat," he admitted, frowning. "to consume something, and then be consumed by it - the notion is unsettling. although i suppose that could be my tendency to think too much of things," he mused aloud in a murmur. he blinked and shook himself out of his introspection, looking up to find sandro holding his prize aloft. "oh - sure, i'll have a bit, thank you."
He walked quickly down the hallway, realizing he was late for his meeting with Milo, who didn’t deserve such neglect from him. Alas, sometimes his tasks didn't go according to plan, and he had to deal with unpleasant moments that left his family waiting. He stopped before turning down the hallway to his brother's room and ran his hand over his face to smooth out all the wrinkles that had formed on his forehead. He didn't want to upset his brother or make him think he was angry because he had taken up his time. No, he would do anything for his family.
He took a deep breath and, once he felt ready, took the first step that would lead him to Milo - the brother whose brilliant mind he truly admired. Sometimes he worried about him, thinking he was too progressive for the times they lived in, and that people who refused to step outside the boundaries of what they knew might hurt him. He would always protect him, but unfortunately, he couldn't always be there for him.
"Sorry for the delay," Fabrizio said with a smile, reaching out to squeeze his brother's shoulder. "What do you want to show me?"
His eyes swept across the room, taking in each curious object that was entirely unfamiliar to him.
his entire life, milo had wondered about his place in the trezza family. fabrizio was the strong and diligent heir, alessandro the charismatic and charming spare, and chiara the proud and tenacious only daughter. they were like players on a stage, perfectly rehearsed and following every cue. where on earth did the sickly, graceless youngest son, tripping over set pieces and stumbling over his lines, fit in? he adored his siblings and did not begrudge that they had their own issues, of course, yet still he envied them. at least he knew that they loved him in return, as evidenced by his being allowed to take over a spare room and make it into a workshop.
at the sound of the door, he peered up at the newcomer with his eyes magnified tenfold. "oh - fabo!" he greeted, reaching up to pull the goggles off his face and then attempt to smooth his bird's nest of hair. he was always a little more aware of himself with his eldest brother, wanting fabrizio to be impressed with his wayward sibling. "oh, i actually did not notice; i needed to borrow some of the gears from the timepiece," he explained, pointing vaguely in the direction of the dysfunctional clock. he lit up when fabrizio asked his question, taking it as permission to give himself over to his own excitement. "this," he said, reaching over to tug on a rope. the action set off a chain reaction: curtains closed over the windows and spread darkness through the room, mechanical pieces began to churn, and a lantern in the center of the room, held steady by its own contraption, began to gently spin. projected on the ceiling were constellations, simply executed but lovingly recreated. "what - what do you think?"
❛ If anything were to happen to you, I would never be able to live with myself. ❜ (Milo & chiara)
"sorellina, if it is any consolation, i was not meant to have even lived this long. oh - likely i should not have said that. but i am here, am i not? thriving - *cough* - despite it all!"
alessandro was an almost famously even tempered man. very few things angered him, but nothing angered him more than the harsh words he'd heard far too many people try to level his younger brother with. he understood well enough that not everybody had to get on with or like one another, but the injustice of the insults thrown milo's way made his blood boil. often, he just reminded himself that it was very much their loss and not milo's. he watched as the other's expression changed, confusion flickering across his own only to be replaced almost immediately by frustration at himself as the realisation of the alternative image he had probably conjured hit. hoping to soften the damage caused, he shifted forward slightly, ensuring to capture milo's gaze and flash him a bright smile. "oh?" he sat up a little straighter again, then sank comfortably back into his chair. "and is it going well?" alessandro had his own clipping, but had done nothing with it -- and could no longer even if he wanted to, given the state of it. it had been tucked in a pocket close to his chest and there it would probably remain until it had disintegrated. he nodded, fond smile blossoming even as he rose in search of wine to drink. "i think it is important to have balance. i know at different times i have sought and found comfort in one over the other. and then it has switched." frowning, he stopped in the middle of the room and spun slowly for several moments. "... has fabrizio hidden the wine that was in here, or did we drink it all, do you know?"
"well - no," milo said, frowning at the flowers as if they were responsible for the grapevine's refusal to flourish. were he of a more poetic disposition, he might have seen it as an apt metaphor for how clinging to the past was simply not productive. agitated by the thought, he tossed his shears down with a loud clatter and added, more forcefully than he intended, "not yet." his breathing started to come more sporadically, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to settle himself and ward off one of his attacks. milo was a logical person, rational to a fault, and though he knew that none of his siblings were putting this burden on him, he could not help but feel that he was failing them. they had all done so much for him, and he was unable to repay them in the way he wanted. "apologies, fratello," he said once he had calmed down and opened his eyes again, voice characteristically soft once more. even he did not know if he was apologizing for the blunt tone or his lack of success in propagating the grapevine - both, most likely. "i - i believe i will take one of the sleeping draughts teo gave me this evening," he added, hoping to place the blame for his outburst on his fatigue. he watched his elder brother rise and begin his search, and nearly as soon as the latter had finished asking his question milo was pointing at a nearby credenza. "three bottles of red, two of white. take care in opening the bottle of white on the left - the cork is embedded a few millimeters deeper than it should be."