fare il grande

YOU DON'T BELIEVE IN ONE DIVINE , BUT CAN YOU TELL ME YOU BELIEVE IN MINE ?

[thevcnetian]

NICCOLÓ           DANCOLO           VICE-DOGE         OF        VENICE

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐎𝐍 of   the   wealthiest   man   in   the   world   must   live   in   purgatory   .   for   he   must   wait   for   his   father   to   die   for   his   life   to   have   true   meaning   .

a roleplay account for @amethystrp

biography

[thevcnetian]

damiata​ .

there  was  much  to  gain  from  sharing  a  bed  with  the  wealthiest  man  in  europe,  though  as  she  navigated  through  the  congested  halls  of  the  moscow  kremlin  with  purpose  in  her  step,  the  eyes  of  the  orthodox  saints  glaring  down  at  the  audacity  of  her  unflinching  gait  and  ravenous  gaze  when  surrounded  by  those  superior  by  birth  and  breeding,  damiata  was  exhaustively  reminded  that  while  her  demands  were  entertained  in  most  of  the  italian  states,  there  were  many  in  russia  that  saw  her  as  nothing  more  than  the  decorated  whore  of  a  licentious  codger.  the  honorable  guests  of  the  tsar  were  too  polite  to  say  as  much  but  their  stares,  both  mystified  and  dismayed,  sought  to  strip  her  bare  in  their  search  to  uncover  the  truth  behind  the  woman  who  had  stood  beside  the  doge  upon  the  bow  of  the  ship,  slender  fingers  curled  around  his  arm  in  unspoken  assertation.  it  took  great  effort  to  keep  from  pointedly  directing  them  to  one  of  the  many  paintings  available  that  depicted  her  in  such  an  unclothed  state  ─  she  had  promised  to  remain  as  inconspicuous  as  possible  in  exchange  for  permission  to  join  the  doge  and  his  household  in  their  muscovite  invasion  though  with  her  fine  silks  and  ermine - lined  dress,  the  soft  furs  peeking  out  from  the  hem,  it  would  not  take  a  clever  man  to  piece  together  the  true  extent  of  her  relationship  to  the  doge  by  the  end  of  the  evening.

with  the  knowledge  that  she  would  be  judged  for  the  notoriety  of  her  chosen  profession  by  those  unfamiliar  with  the  concept  of  a  cortigiana  onesta,  damiata  had  set  out  in  search  of  the  only  other  who  might  not  fault  her  for  any  grievances  uttered  against  their  new  accommodations  and  unwilling  hosts.  it  had  always  been  as  such  with  niccoló  ─  while  the  father  endured  her  complains  but  preferred  to  be  fed  sweetened  lies  from  the  cherry - red  pout  of  her  mouth,  the  son  had  not  shied  away  from  returning  her  barbed  words,  candid  in  his  suspicions  of  her  intentions  but  often  willing  to  look  pass  their  dark  history  for  the  good  of  the  republic  and  their  own  futures.  ❝  perhaps  if  you  keep  complaining  so  loudly,  the  warmth  of  your  breath  will  melt  the  icicles  on  the  tip  of  your  nose.  ❞  a  teasingly  uttered  greeting,  the  doe - softness  of  eyes  sharpening  as  she  halted  at  a  distance  enough  to  fall  into  a  hurried  curtsy,  more  for  the  benefit  of  any  onlookers  than  out  of  genuine  reverence  for  the  man  before  her.  had  they  been  in  venice,  she  might  have  stretched  upon  the  tips  of  her  toes  to  kiss  his  cheek,  well  aware  of  his  feelings  for  her  and  not  ashamed  to  stoke  the  flames  of  simmering  disgust,  but  damiata  did  not  want  to  start  any  rumors  between  the  father  and  the  son  and  the  mistress  just  yet.

❝  i  know  that  your  father  would  wish  for  me  to  remind  you  of  how  gracious  the  tsar  has  been  to  invite  us  into  his  home  but  i  cannot  help  but  wonder  if  sleeping  in  the  ship  would  not  be  a  better  fate  …  ❞  at  least  they  would  not  have  to  worry  about  being  killed  in  their  beds.  ❝  have  you  eaten  ?  come,  show  me  what  is  agreeable  or  not  …  a  chance  for  you  to  sabotage  my  delicate  stomach  in  exchange  for  knowledge  of  your  plans  while  we  are  here.  you  have  always  been  more  …  ❞  coveting,  greedy,  insatiable.  ❝  …  enterprising  when  it  comes  to  our  neighbors.  it  is  one  of  your  more  admirable  qualities.  ❞

damiata   had   been   a   thorn   niccolo's   side   for   what   felt   to   him   like   an   eternity   and   a   half   .   only   now   had   he   grown   somewhat   resigned   to   her   presence   after   his   mother's   passing   .   make   no   mistake   ,   the   embers   of   his   bitterness   were   still   alight   in   his   chest   surrounding   that   most   suspicious   ordeal   .   still   the   vision   of   her   curtsying   before   him   did   little   to   uplift   his   mood   .   she   had   made   herself   inescapable   by   her   own   design   .   even   here   in   this   place   of   strangers   there   was   damiata   in   all   her   glory   rubbing   shoulders   with   far   off   princes   &   princesses.   all   this   she'd   created   from   the   ashes   of   her   street   urchin   background   .   she   was   a   master   at   following   through   on   her   own   ambition   ,   niccolo   would   give   her   that   .   even   though   that   ambition   found   her   in   his   father's   bed   and   with   his   mother's   blood   on   her   dainty   hands   (   or   so   he   suspected   )   .

but   in   truth   ,   the   reason   he   disliked   her   was   less   all   that   and   more   a   simple   matter   of   practicality   ;   it   reflected   poorly   on   him   &   it   made   his   family   look   bad   .   if   the   venetian   nobility’s   gossip   had   been   harsh   ,   no   doubt   the   kremlin’s   rumor   mill   was   a   thousand   times   brutal   .   no   doubt   there   were   already   a   thousand   russian   tongues   wagging   about   the   messy   details   of   his   father’s   romance   at   this   very   second   .   no   doubt   he   could   silence   them   with   gold   coins   ,   but   he’d   rather   keep   them   in   his   pocket   than   use   them   to   clean   up   his   parental   messes   .   on   this   affair   ,   he’d   already   payed   too   much   for   his   liking   .

he   too   felt   uneasy   with   the   reception   they’d   received   .   it   reminded   him   of   the   calm   before   a   storm   ,   the   eerie   sound   of   silence   before   the   dark   clouds   rolled   in   .   everything   had   been   going   too   smoothly   .   niccolo   had   expected   more   pushback   from   his   father   at   the   negotiation   table   ,   or   him   to   bristle   with   his   old   world   hatred   .   he’d   not   foreseen   such   a   swift   alliance   .   the   turn   of   events   had   felt   unreal      .   he   dare   not   trust   it   just   yet   .   “i   must   admit   this   whole   affair   makes   me   uneasy."      

were   the   two   in   a   more   discrete   location   perhaps   he’d   have   denied   her   .   in   the   open   there   was   little   means   of   escape   ,   so   he   simply   nodded   and   offered   an   exasperated,   "yes   ,   follow   me   .”   he   took   a   moment   to   pause   before   adding   ,   “you   simply   must   try   their   pelmeni   dumplings   ,   i   must   admit   they’re   quite   good   .”   though   the   selection   did   make   him   wish   for   a   taste   of   home   .

[thevcnetian]

hedwigofbavaria​ .

“I cannot find it in me to fear that, for your reputation is known to me, and I half imagine the heat of your ambitions may keep you warm, my lord, should the furs and fires of your chamber fail,” remarked the would-be Empress, face forming a kind of a smirk as she looked coyly at the man before her.  She sank into the chair opposite him, her eyes alight, twinkling like twin stars.  There was some superiority always in her air, as if she were set to laughing at the world and found delight only in her own charms, a kind of self-focused disdain for all around her – all beneath her.  Yet, her eyes gleamed with rare interest as they came to rest upon Niccoló, kindling to a form of half-predatory curiosity.  The Countess of Bavaria well liked a challenge.

Long ago, the Vice Doge’s father had set his face against Hedwig’s imperial ambitions.  The Countess was not a woman to ever forget a slight, real or imagined, but she would not hold them against the son till he had proved immovable from his father’s side.  Her glance was glowing, waspish.  Despite the fact that they found themselves now on opposite sides, this was a meeting she fully intended to relish, whatever its outcome might prove.

Casting her habitually dismissive gaze out towards the world around her, she arched a judgmental brow.  “It is well for us, I think, to have found our governances elsewhere in this world, is it not?  Your father has his flooded city – and I, my empire.”  She paused, smiling, allowing the words to hover between them.  “I’d like to see you do better than your father.  It seems to me your imagination might extend beyond his, a sad old man who cannot picture a woman ruling the Holy Roman Empire, but you have so much more potential than your father.  Perhaps you can.  Perhaps, you can also imagine what fair rewards might come your way to aid you in all your future ambitions, should you find an Empress in your debt.”

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐒   he   could   not   help   being   amused   at   the   countess’   brassiness   .   he   looked   at   this   would-be   empress   sitting   across   from   him   now   ,   her   chin   high   ,   cunning   eyes   shining   .   she   had   no   interest   in   pleasantries   .   she   was   an   honest   to   god   business   woman   .   at   least   she   buttered   him   up   first   ,   the   first   step   in   any   good   haggling   with   a   man   such   as   niccoló   .   he’d   expected   there   to   be   more   charades   &   polite   ,   careful   ,   stuffy   conversations   dancing   around   want   &   needs   with   implied   offers   .   "how   sweet   very   of   you   to   think   so   highly   of   me   .   i   shall   remember   to   kindle   that   inner   flame   next   time   i’m   kissed   by   a   russian   breeze   .“   he   smirked   ,   his   tone   lingering   somewhere   between   earnestness   &   sarcasm   yet   surely   she’d   be   quick   to   curse   him   should   he   lose   his   benefit   to   her   &   come   between   her   grasping   hands   &   the   throne   .   though   he   knew   they   meant   nothing   the   honeyed   words   felt   nice   at   least   .

“yes   countess   ,   it   is   true   my   father   is   old   ,   ancient   even   .   on   that   i   assure   you   we   have   no   difference   in   opinion   .   as   for   sad   ,   i   think   he   buries   that   in   his   wealth   &   women   .   he   is   quite   happy   in   his   golden   years   .”   he   shrugged   .   “we   are   both   very   modern   in   our   ideals   ,   but   a   wise   ,   intelligent   woman   such   as   yourself   surely   knows   that   a   shift   in   allegiance   would   be   unwise   if   its   sole   reasoning   were   that   of   moral   superiority   &   promises   .   with   that   being   said   ,   i   shall   keep   it   in   mind   ,   just   for   you   .”

though   his   father   may   have   been   an   antediluvian   ghoul   ,   his   connections   to   the   holy   roman   throne   were   already   secure   .   besides   ,   war   &   bloodshed   might   do   poorly   for   venice’s   pockets   .   but   the   thought   still   tickled   him   .   it   would   be   a   delicious   opportunity   to   seize   the   seat   of   vice   doge   .   besides   ,   if   his   father   were   to   continue   doggedly   pushing   for   eastern   aggression   ,   undoing   this   lucky   truce   ,   well   then   blood   was   already   coming   sooner   or   later   .   best   to   wait   out   the   festivities   a   little   longer   and   see   which   way   the   wind   blew   by   that   point   .   that   would   lead   way   way   forward   .

[thevcnetian]

open starter

𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒   he   thought   as   he   stared   out   at   the   landscape   through   a   kremlin   window   .   he   struggled   to   imagine   it   in   winter   when   the   planes   froze   over   and   were   blanketed   in   white   .   he   shuddered   at   the   thought   .   along   the   mediterranean   ,   especially   the   southern   italian   peninsula   ,   they   considered   venice   cold   in   winter   .   yet   in   moscow   there   was   chill   even   in   late   summertime   .   he'd   felt   icy   hand   of   the   north   on   the   bow   of   the   innocenza   as   they   neared   port   .   niccoló   had   draped   himself   in   warm   velvets   to   shield   himself   from   the   afternoon   breeze   .

how   strange   he   found   this   city   to   be   .   the   kremlin   and   its   orthodox   fashions   were   so   familiar   and   yet   foreign   to   him   .   like   a   warped   mirror   of   the   roman   catholic   st   mark's   basilica   where   he'd   sung   latin   in   the   choir   as   a   boy   .

and   the   food   .   within   a   few   hours   he'd   developed   a   great   disliking   for   the   taste   of   moskova   river   fish   .   he   found   himself   longing   for   calamari   fried   in   olive   oil   from   the   southern   countryside   .   with   a   side   of   vintage   wine   ,   maybe   tuscan   in   origin   .   that   perhaps   he   could   acquire   even   in   this   place   ,   with   a   bit   of   luck   &   charm   .   though   he'd   enjoyed   a   second   helping   of   pelmeni   dumplings   at   the   feast   table   and   was   temped   for   a   third   .

"is   it   me   or   does   the   cold   seep   through   the   damned   windows   ?"      he   complained   .   "i   fear   come   morning   you'll   find   me   a   block   of   ice   in   my   bed   ."

[tizian-a]

the venetian fog is the perfect study weather, you can't change my mind

[andrew-garfielld]

MATT SMITH as DAEMON TARGARYEN in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022-) S01E02 | “The Rogue Prince”