#gaiuspa

[gaius-ignatius-blog]

Acheronta Movebo || Self-Para

The sky was on fire.  Cloud after cloud burst into glorious flame and as the young King lay in his bed he couldn't help but yearn for that cleansing fire.

Gaius looked over the muscled landscape of Sandro's back and propped his chin in his hand.  Sunrise's had always been their time, even when they hadn't been as close as they'd been as children, the first rays of the nascent sun over the Adriatic had always been their moments, inviolable and sacred.  He poked his Attendant in the side, aiming for a spot where he knew his friend was ticklish, "Sandro... Sandro... Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaandro." he wheedled, spidery fingers plying alabaster skin.

He could hear the taller man trying hard not to laugh so the golden-eyed monarch increased his attempt to rouse him, "Come on Sandro... you're gonna miss the sunrise!"  He wrapped an arm around Alessandro and carded his fingers through Sandro's curly brown hair, "Come on Orfeo," he whispered, nuzzling his neck, "new day, new beginnings remember?"  He sighed and rolled off the bed, holding out a hand to the slowly waking Alessandro.  

As his shadow took his hand and rose to stand behind him Gaius looked out over the ocean at the flaming sky, absentmindedly scratching his stitches, "If only that were true though." he murmured, leaning back against Sandro's comforting warmth, "If only every sunset erased all our mistakes, and every sunrise gave us a clean slate to start on, free from the damage done the day before."

A gentle hand removed his own from aggravating his stitches, "Stop scratching." Sandro muttered, his bass voice rumbling in his chest, "Damage has made you the man you are, the King you are."  He planted a soft kiss on top of Gaius' head, "I would not change who you are for all the sunrises in the world.  You are my friend, my soul, and my King.  I would move hell for you, damage and all."

As the sun rose incandescent in the sky, Gaius couldn't help but realize that his shadow was correct; he might be hurt, Lex had seen to that.  But he could take that hurt and use it to make himself better; a better person and a better king.

"Flectere si nequeo superos..." he whispered

"Acheronta movebo." his aide finished, both of them knowing how true Juno's words were, if only when applied to each other.

[lex-reed]

Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth | Lex & GaiusIgnatius

Start of day 2 :: (10 remaining RP)

Lex woke in the strangest position, jolting upright as he realized he'd somehow woven himself into Iggy's arms. He shook the nightmare from his memory, as well as the nagging feeling of someone having taken care of him throughout it. Ana wasn't here to calm the nightmares. Ana wasn't anywhere, as his subconscious had very clearly showed him. He lifted himself gently off the bed, not wanting to incur any more of the king's wrath by waking him up. He hadn't expected the boy's words to be so full of malice, that he really had that much of an effect. Lex had a banging in his head that he was certain would be there forever, and he scanned the room for his pants. Shrugging, he pulled on his boxers and left the pants on the ground. He didn't have anywhere to be, may as well stay comfortable. Lex padded around the suite, noting that it had remained empty, just as the king had ordered. Must be nice, he thought bitterly. Back in Toledo, no one took orders from Lex. Sure, they needed him for some stuff, and he was a pretty hot commodity when brains were needed, which honestly was saying something about the intelligence of the rest of the crew, but they didn't respect him like this. He knew if last night had been at the flat where his crew lived, no one would have stayed away. They'd all be crushed against the door, listening and making "encouraging" noises.

Lex spotted the kitchenette and rummaged around for some food. If he was in the suite of a king, he was gonna milk it for all it was worth. Maybe if Iggy was sober, he'd be more fun to play with. Plus, it wasn't like Lex had anywhere better to be. This was by far one of the nicest places on the ship and the blond wasn't gonna waste the fact that he had free reign over it, at least for a few more minutes. He grabbed a box of cereal and a bowl that must've cost more than his cell phone and soaked it in milk. Snatching a few snacks from the cupboard as well, Lex made his way back into the bedroom where he thought he heard the rustling that meant Iggy was waking. He settled himself in an armchair and propped up his feet on the corner of the bed, digging into the cereal. 

It didn't look like the boy wanted to wake up, so Lex swallowed his bite of cereal and cleared his throat loudly. "You know it's rude to keep your guests waiting on you," he smirked, shoveling more food into his mouth. His headache was fading, but the rest of his ached. He realized the kid had put up a pretty good fight, for a virgin, and also that his body must be screaming for more drugs. It'd been hours since he'd touched anything besides Iggy, and he somehow doubted the king would be up for round two just so he could relieve the pain in his body. Looking at the boy, it was hard to forget how he woke up, or even the nightmares that were so similar to the ones he had every night, but how they'd subsided. He furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of it. 

"By the way, you didn't like..." his face contorted in faux disgust. "Sing to me, did you?" He asked lightly, trying to make a joke of it. No one had sung Lex to sleep in years, not since he stopped sleeping in the room down the hall from his sister. 

[lex-reed]

Well I'm Gonna Tear, Tear Them Down | Lex & Gaius Ignatius

End of Day :: (0 remaining)

Lex slammed the boy's body against the wall of the elevator, renewed passion taking over. He could tell Iggy wanted from Lex, something the blonde was sure he didn't want to give up. But for the time being, Lex was perfectly content with shoving forceful kisses at this boy, leaving blazing trails of kisses down his perfect jawline. His hands wandered beneath the king's shirt, his fingers grazing the toned muscles beneath his scorching skin, skin that Lex wanted nothing more than to devour every inch of. The "ding" of the elevator reaching the 16th floor was almost lost on Lex, but the disgruntled "hmph" of a woman dressed in furs on the other side of it's door brought him back to reality. Lex pulled his king out into the hallway, reaching back and giving the woman a nice big pinch on her bottom. He let out a roaring laugh, stretching his arms out as if he owned the place, as if he even knew where he was going.

Spinning around suddenly, Lex grabbed Iggy and pressed him against some door, his lips devouring the soft skin on his neck, his teeth grazing the skin and leaving marks he was sure would remain until the next day. "What room?" He growled, pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. If the boy wanted to know the dark lurking in his soul, what horrors he tried to hard to cover in the rage that came so easily to him, Lex was sure as hell going to get some darkness out of Iggy first.

Without waiting for an answer, Lex turned back to the hall, his hands still entwined in Iggy's. His eyes landed on the only room with a guard and he swore under his breath, laughing loudly. He couldn't believe his luck. This guy was the real fucking deal. He threw Iggy a disbelieving smile. "I'm guessing that's yours, right King?" He laughed, prancing up to the man, a self-righteous smile on his smug face. "Excuuuse me," he began in a very awful, stereotypical british accent. Sinking into a deep courtesy, Lex gestured to the king. "I am Lexington Wothwort the Third, escorting King Gaius home for the evening."

It took all of Lex's willpower not to burst out laughing as he accentuated every syllable, trilling every 'r'. Reaching back, he slapped Iggy right on his perfect ass, shooting him a cocky grin.

[gaius-ignatius-blog]

Right Round Baby, Right Round | Iggy Self Para

RP :: (4Remaining)

It had been a long day, and it wasn't even half over yet.  It had been a long sleepless night too, and as he removed his crown and changed into black athletic shorts and a black t-shirt he could still feel its cold weight upon his young brow; a weight he feared he'd carry for the rest of his life.  Gaius pulled the omnipresent iPod from his pocket and plugged his ear buds in, the thrumming bass of the music sinking into him as he started to run on the track, turning himself inward, completely ignoring the gorgeous panorama as he pounded the hardwood, each long step sending the contents of his brain thumping into place. 

This time baby I'll be bulletproof...

It was time to take stock of his situation.  He was 21 years old, a King and had no idea what the hell he was going to do with the throne he had just inherited.  His feet pounded down on the hardwood as he increased speed and lowered his head.  He had to try.  He made a promise to his people with his birth, a promise to be there for them and to guide them wisely.  The blood that pounded through his veins, blood that he himself had shed on the Throne of Stars in Rome, that was his oath and seal, that was his covenant with the people who knelt before that throne and he must keep that promise.

The old me's dead and gone... dead and gone...

He picked up his pace, feeling his shirt cling to his back and he became slick with sweat and turmoil.  He had to get back to Italy the moment the ship docked in Hawaii.  He had to sit on that throne and tell his people everything would be okay, that the di Stella line held strong, that he would continue the rule of his ancestors.  He thought of the plans he had, originally they had been for Venice but he could apply them to the whole country.  A brief smile spread across his face before it suddenly hit him: he had no idea how to run an entire country.

Everyone knows I'm in over my head, over my head...

He increased his speed yet again, punishing himself as he thought about his inexperience.  As he pounded past other runners he felt tears mingle with the sweat as his muscles screamed and burned with agony and his subconscious mocked him with every step, not ready not ready not ready not ready it mocked as the track blurred past, you'll fail you'll fail you'll fail you'll fail.  He ground his teeth together and increased his speed again, tears rolling down his face.  "I can do this." he muttered under his breath, his body near the breaking point, "I can rule, I can rule well, I can do what's best for them."  He heard his psyche shriek with laughter, laughter that drowned out the sound of the music in his ears, If you'd known what was best for your people you would have finished the job and bled out on that throne.  That's the only good thing you can do there.  You were a mistake, never meant to rule, only meant to burn.

In a flash his agony dug it's claws into his heart and lungs, stopping him dead in his tracks with its icy grip.  His breath came in ragged gasps and he couldn't get enough oxygen; a panic attack, like he'd had so often after his parents had been murdered, after his Grandmother had propped a six year old on the throne and told him that the entire country depended on him now.  Pushing past other passengers he slid into the locker room, turning a shower onto the coldest it would go and huddling under it, sobbing quietly as he tried to calm himself, tried to breathe.  

"I can do this." he gasped out, "I promise I can, I swear I can, I know I can." He held his wrist in his hand, caressing the four inch scar that ran up its interior.  His hateful subconscious shrunk into the background with a cackle,

Lie to yourself all you want, child.  You can never lie to me.

[gaius-ignatius-blog]

Tick, Tick, Tick, Boom | GaiusIgnatius&Lex

One day as King down, a lifetime to go and all the fledgling monarch wanted was to get drunk and forget about the fact that he had to go home to bury his grandmother and assume the mantle of leadership over an entire country.  I'm not even old enough to rent a car. His internal monologue grumbled, How the hell am I supposed to run a country?  Slender fingers moved to run through his buzzed hair and as they collided with glittering metal and precious stone he cringed a little, "Fuck." he murmured, remembering that he had not remembered to take the crown off before he'd gone to the club.  He hadn't even changed when they'd gotten back to the room, merely mumbling an excuse to his entourage and fleeing the suite, only one guard in tow, a behemoth he could see scanning the room from his position by the club door.  

There were some days, this day included, that Gaius enjoyed lying to himself about things.  Some days they were simple lies; "you look great in a fedora." "Eat that whole pizza and don't go running, you'll be fine." or "No he totally isn't into you just for your money."  But some days, like this one, they were more complicated lies including the current one which ran, "You're only in this club because there's booze and loud bass is a good distraction."  Complete personal honesty however (not something the King was fond of, as a rule) would require him to admit the following, "You're in this club because there's booze, loud bass is a good distraction, and you're drawn like a magnet to the memory of a stranger who thought you were cool even though he didn't know you were royalty.  A stranger whose touch burned, whose kiss poisoned, and who you want to see again even though you know you never ever should."  

Gaius sighed, the crown suddenly feeling heavier and cutting into his forehead. "Nobody ever said royal life was easy." he murmured to himself as he raised his martini to nobody in general and downed it with one giant gulp, praying the vodka would serve as his own personal Lethe this evening.  As he set his glass on the bar and signaled for another he scanned the crowd, not looking for a shock of blonde hair he told himself,  not looking for that frame he could melt into, just looking at all the people. 

He downed the second martini as quickly as the first and decided to make his way onto the dance floor, not to dance with anyone in particular, but to lose himself for a brief moment in a crowd of bodies that just didn't give a shit, a luxury the young King was no longer allowed to have. 

[gaius-ignatius-blog]

[gaius-ignatius-blog]

Til the Edge of Eternity

Sleep had never come easy to the slender prince and apparently this constant held true even on a floating palace of a cruise ship.  It had been a sleepless night and as the dawn approached it appeared he'd get no respite.  He squeezed his eyes shut and sighing shifted onto his side, rubbing his eyes and focusing on the noises around him; the ocean crashing below, the sound of his guard pacing outside the bedroom, of doors slamming in the corridors around him.  Life continued on even though he tried to escape from it.  He squirmed beneath the comforter and attempted to settle himself into the most comfortable position, cursing himself for going to bed sober.  

As his mind flashed to alcohol it also flashed to Lex, an association he feared would be permanent and force him into sobriety just to escape the memory of the blonde enigma that tormented him still.  His hands clenched at his side, nails digging into flesh as he remembered the burn of the boy's skin against his own cold flesh, the way that he'd felt, really felt after so many years of robotically going through the motions.  His mind flashed from memory to memory; Rorky hat, shots, hands, Iggy, a Prince, kiss, tears and Gaius growled in anger at himself, slamming a pillow over his face and mouthing a silent scream.

Removing the pillow and scrubbing the memories from his mind he pushed himself half off the bed, hearing low voices arguing in the sitting room of his suite.  He grumbled softly and slithered off the bed, scratching his bare stomach and making the split second decision not to put pants on over his boxerbriefs walked out into the sitting room, shielding his eyes from the light, "I'm trying to sleep in there guys.  I mean, I'm failing, but I'm still trying, could we maybe keep it down?"  As his eyes adjusted to the light he noticed the faces of his men, and the tears in Alessandro's eyes.  "What is it?" he murmured, his heart skipping beats as his mind came to all sorts of conclusions.

Alessandro and the guard's turned to him and knelt down to the floor, his Attendant and best friend holding his hands up to the Prince, a cloth covered object in it.  Gaius' heart froze in his chest as he heard the words he'd dreaded for a decade and a half, "My Prince... the Regina is dead.  Long live Re Gaius.  Long live the King."  Alessandro pulled the cloth back to reveal a golden crown, studded with jewels and filigree, the crown of a ruler, the crown of a King.  

Gaius reached out with trembling hands and grasped the crown, clenching it in his shaking fists until his knuckles turned white and the icy circlet tore at his flesh and he felt it become slick with his own blood.  Can I even do this? he wondered,  Am I even capable of ruling an entire country?  He felt his eyes well up with tears as he gazed at the now-bloody crown in his hand.  There was nothing he could do about this now, he was trapped on this boat until it docked in Hawaii, but his people were looking to him for action right now.  He set the crown on his head with his trembling hands and felt the blood from the crown drip down his forehead and mingle with his tears

"What I bleed now is no longer my blood, but the blood of Italy.  May God make me worthy of the wonder that flows through my veins, for I am too young to rule."

[gaius-ignatius-blog]

Asking Why I'm Here Instead Of Home

Someone up above was looking out for the young prince and he found his way back to his massive suite with few mishaps.  As he pelted through the corridor he heard an authoritative voice echo through the ship's PA system and his still inebriated brain.

"Greetings passengers.  We're very sorry about the delay this evening.  We ask you not to worry about our late departure as we'll be increasing our speed to compensate our tardiness.  My name is Jasper Grant and I'll be the Captain of the vessel."

Fan-fucking-tastic Gaius sneered as he struggled with the room key, I'm so glad that I'm trapped on this ridiculously opulent floating palace with a gorgeous man I just spurned. The door to the suite swung open, revealing the half-concerned half-furious face of his Attendant, Alessandro.  But before the Patrician could open his mouth, Gaius pushed past him and bellowed, "EVERYBODY FUCKING OUT NOW."  Hate her though he may, Gaius had to admit that his grandmother had taught him some useful tools, including what she called The Royal Cadence, her method of speech that brokered absolutely no disobedience.  As his guards filed past him he felt a gentle brush on his shoulder and turned his head to see Alessandro walking out the door with a look on his face, a look Gaius knew too well, a look that meant a talk about how concerned he was for the Prince's well-being later.   

The Prince slammed the door behind his entourage and stalked through the suite to his lavish master bathroom, cranking the tap to ice-cold to splash water on his face.  As he raised his dripping face to confront his own reflection he noticed the three crowns he'd been forced to bring with him; his shackles and his goals, and with an anguished shout slammed his fist into the gilded mirror. "God fucking dammit!" He yelled, holding his fist in his hand as he dripped blood into the porcelain sink-bowl.  

A hundred fractured Princes looked back at him in anguish from the broken mirror; a myriad of brown eyes and frowning lips.  He sat on the edge of the bath cradling his injured hand and staring at the glittering crowns in front of him.  His gaze held fast to the crown in the center; a simple silver diadem with a single sapphire set in the center, the diadem of the Crown Prince, his father's crown.  He could still remember the day that they brought him that crown.  He'd been six years old, and it had felt so heavy.

He suddenly steeled himself and rose from the tub, wrapping a handtowel around his hand.  As the fog of booze and drugs faded from his skull he pulled himself together.  He was a blood Prince of the di Stella line.  The last thing he'd let rattle him was a blonde stranger he'd kissed in a club.  He sighed and strode out on the balcony.  Tomorrow was another day, and he'd face it with all the grace and nobility he'd neglected to face today with.  

Or he'd get drunk again.

It was an even shot either way.