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Post by Angelica Vargas-Jones on Jan 18, 2012 12:06:16 GMT -5
So want to hug him right now....Reading I get this feel like he's missing the days he keeps thinking about...
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 18, 2012 12:09:35 GMT -5
A/N: .... I don't got nothing to say. Florence reached into his pocket, pulling out a small rusted object he studied it; the dirty band of gold. He smirked, watching as it stubbornly still shown if you held it in the light at the right angle. How pathetic it was, trying to still be beautiful to the world, though he still thought it as beautiful; His heart weighed down, as if someone had attached a ball and chain to it, waiting for the next memory to arise. Vinci- 1492
“Go’way,” the angry Italian grumbled, pulling the bed sheets over his head.
“Come on Leo, just say yes or no,” Florence said, slightly irked about the man sleeping in.
“’bout what..?” Vinci yawned, rolling over to face Lorenzo, his lavender eyes dark and heavy with a hangover.
“I told you last night,” Florence said unamused, looking down at the half-drunken man in bed. He took a breath before spilling “I’m getting married and I need a best man, I-“
“You’re getting married?!” Vinci exclaimed, bolting out of the bed before closing his eyes and mumbling something about migraines and climbing under the covers again. “Si…” he began, “Prego, you can do that- right?”
“To whom?”
“A woman, you do not know her,” he said, trying to avoid the subject of that she wasn’t actually a personification.
“What country?”
“She’s not a country.”
“City-state?”
Lorenzo shook his head,
“…… is she any sort of building?”
“What? No! That doesn’t make any sense,” Sighing he admitted it “She is a human,“
Vinci burst out laughing, “you must be joking? Si?”
Florence glared “No.”
This made Vinci laugh harder until Lorenzo finally picked the man up by his shirt-front and glared at him “Look, are you going to help me or not.”
Vinci gulped, not wanting to get on the bad side of Lorenzo, “O-of course I will,” he smiled, “friends do these things for each other. ”
Lorenzo smiled, letting the other go “I’m glad you think so,” Vinci fell heavily back into his bed, still slightly surprised. Florence scanned the room; it was full of paintings and random half-carved statues. Along with anatomical drawings and birdcages scattered about at random points with rugs flung uselessly around the room- covering chairs, desks and tables. “You redecorated?” he smirked.
“Si, art has become a habit of mine.”
“Ah, I see.”A/N: Intro to Vinci! >
Vinci: hm?
Go away Leo your stealing Florence's charm.
Florence: Drunks don't have charm!
Vinci: I'm not a alcoholic!
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 18, 2012 12:11:17 GMT -5
Florence is free to hug at any time, *hands you Florence*
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Post by Angelica Vargas-Jones on Jan 18, 2012 12:12:01 GMT -5
Drunks do have charm Flo. Just ask Angel. XD
I really can't say anything about your story..it's perfect....there's nothing else to say...
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 18, 2012 12:13:14 GMT -5
Florence: *scoffs*
Vinci: *grumbles*
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Post by Carina Jones on Jan 18, 2012 12:33:48 GMT -5
*laughs* I love this *hugs weaver* Seems like your head characters are amusing ^-^
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 18, 2012 12:35:36 GMT -5
Yay~ *hugs back* I'm planning that after the main story is over I'll post the extra stories that didn't make the final cut so people can add in their characters.
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Post by Carina Jones on Jan 18, 2012 12:44:57 GMT -5
^-^ Cool.
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 18, 2012 16:25:19 GMT -5
A/N: My first chapter/OC request! Drum roll please.... *pencil drum roll* Sicily! Fluff, so if you're allergic to puking kittens then you should probably pick out a funeral home before you read this chapter.
ONWARD!
Florence wondered if Vinci still held that grudge about that. He shrugged, hearing the pitter-patter of rain on the roof. He wondered how the newly-weds were doing. The annoying happy American with the Sicilian,
Florence- 1492
“Renny!” A little brown haired girl shouted as she ran across the large field. Yellow grass waved in the light draft, which rolled across the field.
“Watch out!” Lorenzo called running after them “I’m the big bad monster and if I get you you’ll be made into a little-girl lasagna!” he cried diving into the grass that was above her head.
He silently crept on all fours, slowly creeping towards the child who stood on her tiptoes trying to look over the grass. Cicadas and birds hummed in the air as grasshoppers happily chewed on the golden wheat. “Renny?” she called out to the field, he roared causing the girl to squeal as he was beginning to stand up but then abruptly flattened by a woman wearing a red dress.
“Ciao Angelica, Lorenzo,” Lucia nodded towards the little girl as she sat on her husband-to-be.
“Vi~!” Sicily squealed before hoping onto Lorenzo’s back and given a pasta noodle, which she munched on happily.
“Can I have one, prego?” Florence said, Lucia picked up a noodle and draped it so it laid on top of the man’s head, the tip just brushing the man’s nose.
Lorenzo grumbled something, staring at the noodle, which made him cross-eyed. Sicily giggle before getting up and toddling off into the field, Lucia finally stood, allowing Florence to flick the noodle off his head and pluck a new one from her plate. Popping it into his mouth he kissed with a satisfied ‘ve~’ and then ran off after Sicily. Florence jogged beside the girl who ran as fast as she could.
Then the little girl tripped- falling face first into the tilled dirt, Florence halted and crouched next to her, picking her up out of the ground as if she was some kind of human doll. Sicily looked more shocked than hurt, but most small children do before the inevitable happened. Small glistening tears began to roll down the weeping child’s face.
“Angelica, do not cry,” Florence said, gently wiping away the tears and dirt as he set her on the ground of course just saying something like “stop crying“ obviously was doomed to fail, pulling the child into a hug he quietly sang in her ear;
“Lucciola, lucciola, gialla gialla metti la brigla alla cavalla che la vuole il figlio del re lucciola lucciola vieni con me.”
The little girl stopped sniffling and giggled slightly at the song. Florence placed one of his hands over the girls and with the other he picked up a small flat rock and placed it on his head.
Chi Beddu stu cappiduzzu Chi beddu saporito Quannu mi l’ha mettiri Quannu mi fazz’u zitu Scinnu pi lu Cassuru Scinnu pi li Banneri E tutti chi me ricuni Bongiorno Cavaleri!
Sicily laughed, the small tears drying up as Florence tried to keep the stone balanced on his head. He wobbled from side to side as the little girl continued to laugh.
“Bongiorno sir,” Sicily giggled as the rock fell off the Florentine’s head.
Lorenzo whined as the rock fell onto the ground. Looking into Sicily’s eyes he put his pointer finger onto the tip of her nose; “Do not cry, when you cry you lose a part of yourself.” Lorenzo smiled as he picked the girl up in his arms and began to walk back inside. “And if you cry so much that you lose all of yourself what will be left?”
“Si…” the girl thought, trying to understand his reasoning. As Lorenzo walked he looked down at the girl who seemed to be vastly concentrated on what he had said.
Opening the back door to his villa he stepped in, “Ciao Lucia, look what grew out of the garden today!” he said, holding up the girl who squealed.
“That’s a big one, we’ll have little girl lasagna for at least a week!” Lucia said, laughing as Florence held up the squirming giggling girl.
“Renny!”
“Si, si. We were joking,” Lorenzo said, hugging her before placing a gently kiss on her forehead, “now go play with your brothers, I’m not your father right now.” He said putting her on the ground; she scampered off to find the two boys.
“To think when they grow up,” Lucia sighed, watching the girl dart off somewhere in the villa.
“I wish they’d stay innocent forever. Soon they’ll be big bad monsters just like the rest of us,” Florence said slightly downcast, then perking up; “Ve~ are you making pasta?” he asked, humming over her as she stirred a pot.
“Shoo, I don’t need big bad monsters to help me cook. Go play with people your own age,” she said, waving him out of the kitchen.
He stuck his tongue out at her before getting a pasta noodle flung at him and he left.
A/N: I hope I haven't failed to miserably with Sicily, or... killed anyone. *pause* well, hearing back from you guys is nice. *talking to air* So feel free to have your parents yell at me because I accidentally murdered you with fluff. Although since you'd be dead already trying to tell your parents that you died of vomiting kittens would be really hard to since you're dead-
Florence: You're rambling.
....Right. Anyway, the two songs Florence sings are Italian and Sicilian lullabies I'll post the translation here: .... Dammit. Never mind. Well, in the first one it's a traditional Italian one and he's singing about fireflies. And in the second one about everyone loving his hat.
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Post by Angelica Vargas-Jones on Jan 18, 2012 16:57:31 GMT -5
Death by fluff....there are worse ways to go. *giggles* little-girl lasagna. I love that.
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 18, 2012 16:58:50 GMT -5
I didn't fudge her character too much, did I?
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Post by Angelica Vargas-Jones on Jan 18, 2012 17:02:48 GMT -5
No, you didn't. You got her spot on.
*re-reads chapter* it's....so....fluffy!!! *shakes unicorn doll* XDXDXD
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 18, 2012 17:04:24 GMT -5
Hooray!
I just feel bad about the next few chapters.... *HINT HINT*
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Post by Angelica Vargas-Jones on Jan 18, 2012 17:09:50 GMT -5
Oh no...don't tell me....someone dies?
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Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 18, 2012 17:11:27 GMT -5
....
Pfft no. You know me. I hate killing off my characters. -3-
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