ℭᴇsᴀʀᴇ ℬᴏʀɢɪᴀ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
naytheist) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalogs2013-11-17 02:20 pm
naytheist) wrote in paradisalogs2013-11-17 02:20 pm
Entry tags:
Icarus is flying too close to the sun
Who: Cesare and Lucrezia
What: Cesare's arrival
When: Backdated a little bit to mid-Florence plot, if that's ok!
Where: Florence, outside Florence Cathedral (Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore)
Rating: T or R? Incest next to dead people. Sorry.
To say that Cesare was surprised was an understatement. When sharing an intimate moment, one had a tendency not to assume that it would be interrupted by a sudden, unwelcome shift in location. Cesare was the same. His last memory was back in the home of his sister and her late husband, a blur of gentle gasps and fingers tangled in silk skirts as Alfonso lay motionless, wide-eyed next to them, his own final breath having passed from his lips long ago. Cesare had stated his intent, declared that from now on Lucrezia would be his and he would be hers as he planted open-mouthed kisses on her neck.
Next thing he knew, he was ripped away from her, standing half clothed on the steps of Florence's Basilica, confused and disorientated. Surprise swiftly turned to rage and as he tucked his shirt back into his britches, he cast his eyes over the mulling crowd, his jaw clenched as he tried to find the perpetrator. He had clearly been drugged, he thought, deeming it the only reasonable answer as to his apparent gap in time. It was some surreal game. As rage bubbled in his gut, his thoughts were on retribution and finding his sister, praying to an absent god that she was safe and whomever kidnapped him was not privy to their tryst.
What: Cesare's arrival
When: Backdated a little bit to mid-Florence plot, if that's ok!
Where: Florence, outside Florence Cathedral (Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore)
Rating: T or R? Incest next to dead people. Sorry.
To say that Cesare was surprised was an understatement. When sharing an intimate moment, one had a tendency not to assume that it would be interrupted by a sudden, unwelcome shift in location. Cesare was the same. His last memory was back in the home of his sister and her late husband, a blur of gentle gasps and fingers tangled in silk skirts as Alfonso lay motionless, wide-eyed next to them, his own final breath having passed from his lips long ago. Cesare had stated his intent, declared that from now on Lucrezia would be his and he would be hers as he planted open-mouthed kisses on her neck.
Next thing he knew, he was ripped away from her, standing half clothed on the steps of Florence's Basilica, confused and disorientated. Surprise swiftly turned to rage and as he tucked his shirt back into his britches, he cast his eyes over the mulling crowd, his jaw clenched as he tried to find the perpetrator. He had clearly been drugged, he thought, deeming it the only reasonable answer as to his apparent gap in time. It was some surreal game. As rage bubbled in his gut, his thoughts were on retribution and finding his sister, praying to an absent god that she was safe and whomever kidnapped him was not privy to their tryst.
no subject
So it's with no small measure of surprise that Lucrezia halts at the top of the stairs, dark blue hood sliding down her head after just a moment of her forgetting to tug it lower over her face. Salvation, she thinks, but then a dream. Another cruel illusion courtesy of the castle.
She hesitates for what feels like forever, afraid that he might disappear if she but utters his name and more afraid of missing her chance and watching him vanish because she doesn't dare to call out. "Cesare," the first is barely a breath, a sigh, but the second time she calls for him is nearly a shriek. Desperate. She would rather endanger herself than miss her chance.