#bloodnglory.task002

[aslandurmaz]

Beverly Hills, CA, 90210 - ADDRESS UNAVAILABLE.

"I gotta fucking move."

Perched on the edge of a cliffside in Beverly Hills, this isn’t so much a home as it is a fortress. Secluded and near-impossible to reach without intention, it’s the kind of place designed for someone who doesn’t want to be found, or who expects that when they are found, it wasn't by accident.

From the outside, the structure cuts a clean silhouette against the skyline. The driveway is steep and narrow, protected by bulletproof security gates that only open by access codes or fingerprint recognition. His paranoia prompts him to constantly change said codes every two to four days.

Inside, the house feels more calculated than lived in. No clutter and no distractions. Everything is placed exactly where it belongs. Even his extensive car collection - every vehicle is placed with intention in the hidden garage. Panoramic windows stretch across the main rooms, flooding the space with light by day and giving him a full view of the city below by night.

The kitchen gleams, but he rarely cooks. More often, it’s where he reviews files with a pot of Turkish coffee. There are no personal photographs anywhere. Just the scent of oud, the precision of folded suits, and the air that this could be a show home, but not a lived in place. The only area that feels used is his study that's tucked away and secured with biometric access.

This house, according to Aslan, has a mind of its own. He only bought it for the seclusion, the privacy, and the ability to install bulletproof windows, but he hates it with a burning passion. It’s far too technologically advanced for his liking; everything is controlled through iPads mounted on the walls, which he can never seem to figure out.

On the rare chance you’re within earshot (you won’t be), you might overhear him cursing at the tech in Turkish that he has to fucking move out or the occasional gunshot fired into one of the control panels. Somehow, thanks to Charlie, they always manage to get repaired.

There are only two specific people he trusts enough to update on the access codes - Camilla Barone and Esra Durmaz (sometimes Charlie depending on his mood but Aslan doubts he'll remember it anyways)

The only things that are his own within the home are his clothing and the watch and car collections.

He keeps some artwork and priceless artifacts in various parts of the home, mostly in the study, but nothing too eye-catching.

[emildelcastillo]

(Undisclosed Addres), Beverly Hills, CA 90210

From the outside, Emiliano’s $75 million Beverly Hills home looks like quiet money — all glass, stone, and precision. The kind of place designed by someone who doesn’t need to prove anything. But step inside, and the tone shifts. It’s not just luxury — it’s calculated. Like the house was designed as much for privacy as it was for comfort.

Emiliano actually loves his house. Not just for how it looks, but for what it gives him: privacy, control, and quiet. Perched in Beverly Hills, it’s sleek, modern, and full of sharp edges, but behind the glass and stone is a space that finally feels like his.

The house is fully wired — every room, every entry point. The only way in is by facial recognition and a unique passcode assigned to each person he allows. No surprises. No mistakes. That’s how he likes it.

Inside, the design is clean and cool: dark wood floors, custom lighting, walls that hide speakers, cameras, and motion sensors. He built it to be high-tech and low effort. Lights, music, temperature all controlled from his phone or a quiet command. His dog, Backup, usually follows him from room to room, the only living thing outside of his best friends, he fully lets in his space.

There’s a hidden shooting range downstairs, a full gym, and a basketball court out back. It’s all practical to him; part of the routine, part of staying sharp. His office doubles as a surveillance hub, where he can see almost every angle of the property with a glance, and the perfect place to go Live on Tiktok.

In the garage sits his collection of cars, mostly McLaren's, but a few unique collection cars that were in his favorite movies. Although his most prized car and possession, which he uses almost daily, may be the 1966 red cherry Ford Mustang that once belonged to his father, driven from Mexico to California by Emiliano himself when he was of age.

His bedroom is his favorite space, minimalist but lived-in. The blackout shades open automatically in the morning unless he tells them not to. There’s a shelf lined with memories he’d never admit mean something: old photos, a knife from his uncle, a few things from Sinaloa he never got rid of.

It’s quiet, controlled, and built exactly the way he needs it. A place where Emiliano is the most himself.

[nicocaravelli]

“WELCOME TO MY CRIB.”

Beverly Hills, CA.

Set high in the heart of Beverly Hills, this 15,000 square foot estate is dripping with an old world elegance. The $35 million dollar home seamlessly blends classical European architecture with contemporary luxury, creating an ambience of power and sophistication. Behind the gates everything is controlled, secure, and untouchable - a stronghold for the man that doesn’t ask for power (he takes it).

Occupying this residency alone, Nico Barone finds peace within his own company, appreciating the space around him due to holding a strong sense of personal boundaries that he only has his father (sarcasm) to thank for. Though more recently noted is his flurry four-legged feline that has begrudgingly been welcomed into his home. His kitten, Bob - Bobbie when Nico doesn’t think he’s being a prick - brings a newfound sense of life to Nico’s prestige home. Everyday Bob gets one step closer to launching himself from the bannister of the dual staircase and onto the chandelier hanging above.

Nico’s home is fresh - it’s bright, in every sense of the word it is immaculate. His housekeeper, Glenda, has been employed by Nico for years now and therefore he sees her as an extension of his own family. Glenda is one of the sole reasons for the upkeep of his estate; he does not trust anybody else. Nico is big on smells, he does not appreciate bad odour and this extends into his home. As you walk through the main doors there are undertones of patchouli, it’s subtle, and it’s expensive. There is not a corner of his home that does not have a discreet note of fragrance.

In addition to the numerous living spaces, bedrooms, and bathrooms, Nico has his own private gym, eliminating the need to use local facilities. He also works with a personal trainer. Nico frequents his home office most days, and although his personal goal of watching one movie every evening is not always met, it's an enjoyable habit he maintains within the comfort of his home. His current project involves upgrading his en-suite bathroom. While preserving the original architectural design, he’s aiming for a more modern aesthetic, featuring black stone and dark wood elements.

Outside on the circular driveway is generally occupied by Nico’s day-to-day vehicles - Mercedes-Benz S Class and Maserati Quattroporte. He does own other notable cars: Cadillac Escalade, Chevrolet Suburban, Maserati Levante, Lancia Thema 8.32, and Chrysler 300c. Generally if these cars are not in use, they’ll be stored within the garage underneath his home. Once a week these vehicles get washed, cleaned, waxed, and polished - even if they haven’t left the property. Rainwater practically beads off of his cars; there is never a notable smear or smudge. Nico’s preference is clean.

Everything you see and note is owned by Nico and paid for outright, he does not believe in monthly payments for any possession he may have. In his mind, ownership only begins when contracts are fully settled, and he refuses to live any other way. Any paintings or artistry work he may have are seen as investments, rather than him having an attachment to them. The only interest he appears to currently have is his Rolex collection - Nico looks to extend this daily. Whilst Nico is content with the way he lives, in his ideal fantasy he’d leave LA for dust and put roots in Tuscany, Italy.

MTV crib closing sentence before shutting the doors: “If you come back here again I’ll shoot you.”

EXTRAS:

Nico has owned several penthouses prior to acquiring this property. His former homes are ones he now rents out - it’s a source of legitimate income that he invests.

Whilst his father (rest in HELL) has not once stepped foot inside his Beverly Hills home, his presence is strong with the need for cleanliness.

Security is extensive and layered. While not impossible, breaking into Nico’s home without his knowledge is highly unlikely. His paranoia ensures that every system has backups - even the backups have backups.

If you’re not his family or Celestina de la Cruz, then you wouldn’t be welcomed through the front gates of his property without his approval.

[esradurmaz]

Esra's Bel Air Home

Courtesy of Ambrose and The Network.

Just off the Stone Canyon, tucked away like a hidden oasis. This is her protected sanctuary and only close friends (or select Network personnel) have secured themselves an invite inside.

From the listing: Encompassing 11,251 square feet, the private estate boasts 7 bedrooms and 9 bathrooms, a two-story entry, living room, dining room, an elevator, a formal library, dual powder rooms, a second-floor family area, and an expansive gourmet kitchen with a double island adorned with granite counters. The kitchen also features a breakfast room with French doors opening to the lush and private grassy lawn, as well as the inviting pool/spa and cabana. The lot includes a second lawn area with striking mountain views.

From reality: Esra has never lived quite so large as this, certainly not in her youth and definitely not in Europe over the last decade. Nice things and nice places aren't foreign these days, but the quality of the house was her ultimate bribe to come work for The Network and she doesn't take it for granted. Purchased with their money, signed in her name, this is easily her most prized possession and she treats the entire estate as such.

There's a coldness to the decor though, despite how colorful and well curated it might appear at first glance. No family photos, no sentimental knick knacks, not even a generational cookbook propped up on the counter. It's a gorgeous house, a shining trophy of achievement, but not a home.

[troywindsor]

1714 Stone Canyon Rd, Los Angeles, CA

Perched high in Bel-Air, the home at 1714 Stone Canyon Rd is less of a refuge and more of a curated exhibition — a showroom, rather than the place full of love that it once was. The sprawling, ultra-modern estate is built into the hillside, its sharp angles and vast panes of glass a stark contrast to the turmoil that haunts its owner.

From the outside, it gleams; pristine white walls, floating staircases, and mirror-like surfaces that reflect nothing back but sky, trees, and whatever version of himself Troy allows the world to see.

Inside, the home feels both lived-in and eerily untouched. There’s art everywhere. Abstract pieces dominate the space, bold splashes of color breaking up the otherwise controlled minimalism. Pieces that have replaced family photos, memories and a life he no longer has.

His home office is the only room that feels like it has a pulse; where most of his illegal negotiations take place after his regular work hours. It’s overstuffed, a little chaotic, full of yellowed paperbacks and first editions. His son's books are still there, untouched. His wedding photo is still on one of the lower shelves, always facedown. It is the only place that Troy spends hours in, outside of sleeping in his bedroom.

Since there are often visitors, Troy has private security and an assistant who work the same hours as he does. Anyone that tries to step foot into the house must have a previously scheduled meeting, their identity must be confirmed and the meeting approved by the Attorney General himself, who gives only have gives his guest access to the office and living room areas. There are only a few exceptions to this; the familiar faces of his closest friends which security can recognize by now, Esra, and his brother Charlie, who has a set of keys.

Troy’s backyard is clean, modern, and almost too perfect. The infinity pool stretches toward the canyon view, its water always still, glowing blue at night. Sleek lounge chairs and a fire pit sit untouched, more for display than comfort.

It’s quiet, beautiful, and empty at the same time, like everything was built for someone who no longer enjoys any of it.

[bloodngloryhq]

Home is where our story beings -

The theory is that a lot can be said about a person by how their home looks. Messy or clean; bright colors or neutral, maybe even monochrome; whether they let their animals on the sofa or not. With this task, we want to gain a better understanding of your muse. Show us what their home looks like, let us see how messy or clean they are, whether they hoard trinkets or live a minimalist lifestyle.

This task can be completed however you would like, whether it's more a moodboard of various imagery, or a full home tour. It is completely optional, and does not need to be completed for all muses, if you wanted to pick and choose. If you do participate, please tag your posts with bloodnglory.task002!

[g3mcore]

⸻ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀 ⸻ perched high in the beverly hills estates, just off a ridge that overlooks both the city and the ocean haze of malibu, lies 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂, a mansion that real-estate watchers never stopped talking about. originally built in the 1980s and sold several times between hedge fund magnates and celebrity royalty, the estate was last purchased for $74 million. under nero di fiore, its value has swelled to an estimated $120 million; not just from the renovations, but from the aura it now carries.

⸺ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍 the driveway coils upward like a private road to olympus, lined with olive trees and security cameras disguised as lanterns. by the time you reach the gates, flanked by wrought-iron and stone, the city below feels like it belongs to someone else. the mansion rises like a fortress, pale stone softened by ivy. the swimming pool stretches out beneath it like a mirror, pristine, still, cutting the lawn with clean geometry. his bulk notwithstanding, nero's a swift swimmer, it helps him think and unwind. the upper floors are lined with terraces and windows.

the lemon trees garden is the only softness welcoming the guests. nero insists the trees stay close to the entrance, and they’re not just for show. his staff plucks them, slicing the fruit into water or over oysters served in the courtyard. a reminder of sicily. a reminder that roots don’t die, no matter how much wealth you bury them under.

⸺ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰𝑰: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒚𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅 the grand salon is a study in intimidation disguised as taste. geometric carpets, angular furniture, carefully chosen art, rooms that look comfortable but are designed for dominance. nero doesn’t host family dinners; he hosts negotiations. every sofa and armchair is placed so that no one forgets who sits at the center.

then there’s the bar-room, an homage to hollywood. black-and-white portraits of dead icons loom over the liquor shelves. sinatra, monroe, taylor: faces as immortal as the empire nero is carving for himself. fame is fleeting, but legacy – this kind of legacy – is eternal.

⸺ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰𝑰𝑰: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒔 the bedroom is a paradox of indulgence and restraint. towering arched windows open to filtered morning light, where the sound of fountains blends with birdsong. rich rugs stretch across wooden floors, plants soften the corners. this is not a sanctuary; it’s a throne. further inside, a black library. paneled in shadow, gold accents catching the dim light. shelves stacked high with philosophy, history, art, books as weapons, as status, as myth.

⸺ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰𝑽: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆 marble gloors gleam under recessed lights, reflecting the predators that wait: lamborghinis, ferraris, rolls-royces, a black bugatti la voiture noire. a personally curated collection that doesn’t just scream money, it whispers bloodlines of engineering, dominance in speed. rumor says nero holds meetings here. that men have stood between the cars, the hum of the place thick with something more dangerous than words. it isn’t a garage, it's a cathedral.

⸺ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑽: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 bathrooms carved in onyx, mirrors cut like jewels, chandeliers that refract light like prisms of ice. nero’s guests find themselves staring into reflections that feel accusatory, as if the house itself were measuring their worth. other corners reveal indulgence: citrus trees growing indoors, mosaics underfoot, marble kitchens where private chefs perform their craft behind closed doors. fountains that throw water skyward, only to let it crash back in rhythm.

in 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂, the heart beats in marble and steel. counters cut from single slabs of stone, veins of grey and white running like maps of conquest. sometimes he drinks espresso at dawn, a glass left steaming on the counter when he walks in, shirtless, eyes still cold from the night. beyond the kitchen sprawls the dining space arranged for spectacle. breakfast can feel like an intimate ceremony; dinner, a performance. the air always carries citrus from the garden, smoke from the nearby fireplace, the faint sweetness of sicilian pastries.

⸺ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑽𝑰: 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔 the jet ives in hangars at van nuys or lax, depending on which runway he needs cleared. matte black interior, leather stitched sharp, obsidian tables bolted into place. it serves as a statement. with a jet like this, time itself bends. breakfast in la, a meeting in new york, sunrise in paris. the company owns it, officially. nero commands it.

the interior has been photographed once, leaked through a lifestyle magazine. the captions called it tasteful minimalism. insiders laughed. It’s not minimalism, it’s menace. a flying boardroom where no one leaves until Nero says so.

[rachelxhan]

3339 McLaughlin Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90066

Rachel has purchased this $2.5 million Mar Vista ranch home that resides in a gated community. The main house is 1,471 square feet with a small guest room space in the backyard that is 403 square feet.

In the main house there are 3 bedrooms, including the primary bedroom which Rachel is in. Rachel has the other 2 furnished for guests. There is also an attic space that is converted upstairs to a library space of her childhood dreams.

The kitchen although very nice is rarely used by Rachel other than for heating things up, because Rachel is a horrible cook. But at least her kitchen looks pretty if anyone else wants to cook for her.

She loves how much natural light there is throughout the house and created a simple office space for herself looking out to her front yard. Her living room is where she spends most of her time in her home since it feels like the heart of her home.

The backyard includes wood decks, firepit, wooden spa, and outdoor spa. She typically has the doors to the backyard open for Walter to come in and out as he pleases.

The small studio space with a little front yard of its own is in the corner of the backyard. Rachel has allowed friends of hers to say there for extended stays if needed. It includes a bedroom, kitchenette, and bathroom.

Rachel realizes this is all way too much space for a single woman. Sometimes she fantasized about the idea of sharing the space with someone over the past year, but as of now it doesn't feel too big (mostly because she does get visitors often enough who would rather not have to pay to stay at an expensive hotel.)

It is warm and inviting which is always the aesthetic that Rachel wants to go for in her space and she feels proud to own her home. More than likely, if you have known her for long enough she'll happily invite you over to her safe space and hope you feel just as cozy as she does every day.