|
Post by Angelica Vargas-Jones on Jan 18, 2012 17:12:18 GMT -5
-.-....yikes...we're spamming on here...
|
|
|
Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 18, 2012 20:11:50 GMT -5
A/N: Almost the last chapter....
Lorenzo couldn't help but smile, who didn't enjoy small children. And pasta. But mostly small children. He sighed, knowing what memory would come to him next.
Florence- 1492
“Ve, faster Zoni, faster!” The boy cheered from atop the man’s shoulders. His hair curl bouncing each time the man under him took a step.
“I’m going as fast as I can without dropping you, Uccellino~” Lorenzo laughed, running back and fourth on top of the rooftop of his villa, he didn’t want to jump to another roof incase he dropped the laughing boy. The house itself was a traditional Tuscan villa with terra cotta tiled roof and grey stone walls. A courtyard with a small fountain sat proudly in the middle with the house built around it like a castle as Italy called it. Startled pigeons took off as the two dashed around the roof, sometimes Lorenzo would act like he’d lose his footing and the boy would start to panic and then Florence would race back up to the apex and start all over.
“Feliciano, Lorenzo!” the beautiful voice of Lucia called out to the two playing on the shingles. Lorenzo and Feliciano looked down at her, Florence was lying so his feet hooked over the top of the roof and Italy sat on his chest.
“Zoni~!” the boy squealed as Florence stood and put him back on his shoulders and jumped down to a stack of crates then down to the streets.
Putting the boy down he crouched putting his pointer finger on the boy’s nose to get him to pay attention, “Uccellino. Lorenzo and Giuliano need to visit the Duomo for some political business and Lucia and I have been asked to attend, do you mind coming so I don’t have to leave you here alone?”
“Ve, I’ll come Zoni~” the boy said, latching onto his front. Lorenzo stood, holding the boy up so he didn’t slip and walked over to where the carriage was. There sat Giuliano, Lucia and Lorenzo patiently waiting for the two.
“Mi dispiace, I was… held up,” Florence said, nodding at the already half-asleep boy in his arms.
“It is nothing my friend,” Lorenzo the Magnificent said waving a dismissive hand, “Get in, get in.”
Florence sat next to Lucia, across from Lorenzo. The two men looked awkwardly at each other, “So… You are also Lorenzo.”
“Si, I see you bare the same name,”
The rest of the carriage ride was unexciting except for the jokes that Giuliano and Lucia would poke at them for baring the same name. Feliciano woke a few times to change sleeping arrangements from Florence to Lucia. The occasional “Ve~” escaped from him in his sleep. Florence guessed he was dreaming about pasta, the way his small hands moved reminded the man of how small children hold utensils.
Florence watched out the window as men and women walked by, one particular one caught his eye, it was a man in a black crow mask with a long black ostrich feather sticking out of it. The man looked directly at Lorenzo and smiled, drawing a line with his finger across his neck. Florence frowned, “Lorenzo, we’re here. Lorenzo?” Lucia prodded him.
“Ve? Oh, si.” He said, opening the carriage so the others could leave. They stood outside the Duomo, Florence, helped Lucia out of the carriage, taking Italia off of her lap before she hopped down from the small step. After Lorenzo and Giuliano stepped down from the carriage the driver drove off quickly, Florence narrowed his eyes. Who was going to take them back then?
Italia opened his eye’s sleepily and looked up at his surrogate father, “ve, Zoni why are you mad?”
“Ve? Oh, I am not mad, do not worry,” Florence looked at the tired looking child in his arms.
They group entered the Duomo, setting Italia down the boy ran about under the dome which cast colorful rays onto the tile floor, dust motes floating around randomly. Lorenzo could hear the two men chatting about something as he walked around, meandering around the large church. He kept his eyes not on the art but on the two shadows he saw quietly sneaking around to where the two political heads sat chatting. Lorenzo turned, Lucia watched as he drew out his rapier and started to walk towards the Medici.
“Lorenzo, what are you doing?” Lucia asked concerned. Watching as her fiancé began to run at them.
The two Medici looked startled as their city-state jumped, landing on the other side of them and started shouting something into the shadows behind a column.
“Come out you bastards, I can see you,” Lorenzo growled, brandishing the sword.
One man came out of the shadows, clapping slightly. “I see you have found me, Lorenzo, that is you, correct?”
“Si. That is I.” Lorenzo nodded, he knew they were talking about the other Lorenzo but if they were going to cause harm they might as well do it to someone who could fight.
“My name is Francesco, and I will be your killer.” The man introduced himself with a bow before drawing a crossbow. Lorenzo had heard that name many times. Lucia’s ex; the Pazzi man.
He looked back at the others, Lucia holding Feliciano, the two Medici backed away “Get back,” Florence ordered, they might have been higher ups but keeping them protected was top priority. Giuliano and his brother drew their swords and stood near Lucia who talked to Italia calmly.
Florence waited for the man to strike his gloved left hands wrapped tightly around his sword. The traditional ‘thp’ of a bolt from a crossbow; swinging his right arm in front of his face the arrow bouncing off of the hidden gauntlet. Florence stumbled when a second bolt struck him in his shoulder from the opposite side of the room. The iron sunk deep into his shoulder, thankfully not hitting a bone or tendon.
Running at the man who first attacked him and grabbed the crossbow from him- wrenching it out of the man’s hands. In a circular motion he clocked the man in the head with the metal bow and he sunk to the floor with an impressive bump on the top of his head.
“Lorenzo!” He heard Giuliano cry his brother’s name as he was stabbed over and over, a second assassin stepping out of the shadows. Blood stained the marble floors of the church. As Lorenzo turned around he saw the ruler of Florence charge at his brother’s attacker- violently kicking him off of the bleeding man. The attacker stumbled to his feet, throwing his knife it stuck into Lorenzo de Medici’s upper leg, causing the man to cry out in pain; dropping his sword.
Florence nor did the man notice as they fought that Lucia picked up Lorenzo’s dropped blade, or at least- not until she plunged it into the man’s chest. With a triumphant cry she twisted the blade around before pulling it out- the assassin sunk to his knees as if in prayer before falling onto his face. Florence raised an eyebrow at his fiancé as Lorenzo stared at his brother silently.
“I didn’t know you could kill,” he smirked.
She shrugged; “Neither could I, where did Italia go? He got away from me.”
Florence wandered around for the boy, finding him cowering behind a curtain, “Uccellino, come out,” he held out his hand for the boy who took it and was led out to the entrance “wait here, I need to help them.” He said sternly, but gently placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
Beginning to walk back over to the two still living beings he saw something moving in the shadows. “Cazzo” he growled, starting to sprint as he watched the man pull back the crossbow and aim. He heard Lucia scream, he dashed for Lorenzo, tackling him to the ground as the third bolt whizzed over the men’s heads and hit Lucia in the stomach.
A/N: Okay, 1492. not only did Columbus sail to America but it basically ends Florence's golden age with the death of the ruler Lorenzo de Medici, his brother was murdered in the Duomo as you found with a sword to the head and then stabbed 19 times (ouch). Lorenzo was only stabbed but died later that year. I just added in Italy, Lucia and Florence cuz it would keep the plot rolling.
|
|
|
Post by Carina Jones on Jan 18, 2012 23:31:41 GMT -5
OMG LITTLE ANGEL AND FLORENCE AND *inarticulate squees & glomping commences*
As for the next piece.
*hugs all again* Well written.
and for you Weaver *extra huggings*
|
|
|
Post by Lili Zwingli on Jan 19, 2012 2:41:49 GMT -5
A/N:Woot! Onward! ...I have to wonder if anyone ever recognized me as being Weaver, I've dropped hints about it every time I got on.
As a warning you might want a box of tissues. Second to last chapter is here!
Florence’s eyes flicked open, his breath had become fast and irregular, watching as stars speckled the urban night, and his window was slightly cracked letting in the refreshing smell of fresh rain and car run-offs. Sighing he covered his face with a hand, crying was a sign of cowardice. Something someone like him could not afford. The Duomo still hadn’t been finished while that had happened, the large dome uncompleted.
He waited, hoping the next memory would be better.
Florence- 1492
“Lucia!” Lorenzo cried, cradling the woman’s body in his arms “Lucia… please wake for me… Lucia,” he brushed a piece of blood-matted hair from her face, her beautiful face. hands shaking he caressed it, feeling his warm sun kissed fingers against her cooling skin.
“Lorenzo…” he heard her murmur, her lips partially parted, a trickle of blood spilling down the side.
“Stay with me, I-I’m going to take you to un dottore,” he shook, his words spilling out of his mouth as blood mixed with tears as they dripped onto her face.
“Do not bother yourself with me… the other assassin…”
“He fled,” Lorenzo quietly looked down at the shaft of iron protruding from her stomach, she wasn’t going to last much longer.
“A-am I going to die?” she asked blankly staring up at the open sky of the unfinished church. Watching as birds flew overhead and clouds lazily rolled by.
“No… no you’ll be fine,” he lied, he couldn’t bring himself to accept the truth. She would be fine, leaving the injured men here would be safe and he could bring her to the doctor before she bled out. “e-everything will be alright.”
“Please do not lie to me… I’m not afraid of dying, I never have been.” She stated, coughing up some blood. “Goodbye mi amore,” Lucia sighed, reaching up a hand to wipe away the tears that still spilled over the Florentine’s eyes.
“You can’t leave! Cazzo!” He cried, hitting the marble floor in anger while watching as her hand fell limply to her side. “Come back dammit! I won’t let you leave!” he cried harder, holding her still hand against his face, rocking the still form back and forth on his lap. “Don’t go… don’t go… don’t go…”
“...Zoni?” a small voice said from behind him, gently pulling on his loose white shirt.
Lorenzo whipped his tears before looking up at the boy with a sad smile, trying in attempt to look brave “y-yes Uccellino?”
“Do not cry, when you cry you lose a part of yourself,” Feliciano said sadly while placing his small hand in Lorenzo’s larger one, “And if you cry to much you lose all of yourself. That’s what Angel told me.”
“S-si…”
A/N: I don't know what happened to Florence, he disappeared into the back part of my mind and hasn't gotten up yet..
*glomped* Thanks to everyone for being amazingly fantastic~
|
|
|
Post by Carina Jones on Jan 19, 2012 14:34:53 GMT -5
*glomps you and Florence* Poor Florence T.T And and and the end of it *sniffles*
(I didn't know it was you but I don't think I've been online with you on that account so... XP Is on my cheat sheet now so I'll never forget it.)
|
|
|
Post by Angelica Vargas-Jones on Jan 19, 2012 16:49:41 GMT -5
fjbsjb gjb b snn WEAVER!!! WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING TELL ME YOU WERE LILI!!!! >.<
Now that I've gotten that out of my system *clings to* so sad! TT-TT You've got me and Angel crying.
|
|
|
Post by Lili Zwingli on Jan 19, 2012 21:06:06 GMT -5
O.O I've dropped hints every time I've gotten on. (with her at least)
I'm sorry, Lorenzo's gonna get his justice (kinda) though.
|
|
|
Post by Lili Zwingli on Jan 19, 2012 21:29:19 GMT -5
A/N: And now everyone, for the final installment of Till death do us part. And probably this is the most epic fight scene I have ever written. (woot)
Considering that it is a fight scene and Lorenzo kicks the shit out of everyone (at one point or another) this chapter is rated B for bloodlust and a psychotic Florence.. Italians be warned you might not think of the compassionate mentor you have in the same way EVER AGAIN. Although you might not give a damn.
Enjoy the story, and don't forget to tell me something about it. Enjoy!
Lorenzo watched as the street lamp out his window flickered on and off, the bulb dying. It would need replacing soon. Just like him. But he had promised Sicily, Italy, and Romano he would stay here as long as he could.
Florence- 1492
Lorenzo tried not to draw that much attention to himself as he slipped on the dark cloak, of all times to be called for a job, why when he could hear the servants rummaging around. Lorenzo the Magnificent had died yesterday, and the citizen’s were starting to become worried about how his heirs would do. The cloak’s folds enveloped him, as if trying to comfort him; slipping a few daggers among his person he stepped into large brown leather boots, which had three curved jagged metal edges running down the back-, he could take someone’s nose off with a hard kick. He then pulled on a small gauntlet with short curved spines prickling over it, the dent where the crossbow bolt was clearly evident and had left him with a large purple/green bruise for a week. Feliciano said the gauntlet look like a cheese grater once, he smiled to himself, tightening the belts down. nonchalantly placing a small barley visible needle beneath the nail on his pointer finger. Finally he slid on an intricately decorated mask, generously painted by Italia, Romano, and Sicily, it covered his eyes and nose, allowing him to speak but not identified. He treasured the art project Italia and he had done together, keeping it with him at dances and on any of his “jobs” he did. With a quick opening and closing of a door he was out into the fresh Tuscan night.
The sound of a large church bell tolled the hour before midnight as a shadow ran along the roof tiles, keeping a close eye on any guards who happened to see him. The Pazzi would pay for what they did. The end of the roof sped up to him as he leapt- the guard ten feet below him barley noticing the slight brush of wind as he landed on the other roof, looking up after the man was already onto the next house.
Running along the apex of the roof he drew out the twin wickedly curved knives that hung at his waist. He held one blade in each hand, his arms slightly spread apart to keep balance, and as if he jumped he might take flight. Jumping across another rooftop. His spiked boot’s muffling the slight clack as he ran.
Images of Lucia and Giuliano flicked through his mind as his mouth stayed a sober line underneath the slight shadow of the mask he wore. Enough tears had been shed; if he did not act the Pazzi would take advantage of him. He could tell his Golden Age was coming to a close; he felt it when Giuliano was assassinated and Lorenzo died. If he was going to end, he would drag the Pazzi down with him.
He saw the Palazzo Pazzi in the distance; a devious smile crept onto his mouth as he switched courses, heading to the Palazzo Pazzi landing onto the streets with a roll he walked up to the building. He would need a distraction. He hid in the shadows, pocketing his knives as he watched a guard round the corner of the building; the man was in the regular guard garb. No protective armor, or at least to protect him from Lorenzo. As the guard came within striking range the Florentine reached out putting his left hand on the guard’s left side of his head he put his right hand on the guard’s right jaw- with a quick push and pull then man’s neck snapped cleanly. He crumpled to the ground, dropping his torch into Lorenzo’s quick hand.
Tossing the torch into the building he felt the slightest bit of pain as the building began to ignite, a deep throbbing pain that spread through him as he watched the building cough of spirals of black smoke into the night. He could hear guards running near, and he took off towards where Francesco dwell. Guards stood outside the villa as he crept up to the stone stairs, which led to the opening. He could hear the men talking about women as he slowly made his way up the stairs.
“Scram, what do you think you are doing here?” One barked, pointing his halberd at the Florentine. Lorenzo slipped his hands into his cape, plucking out his daggers.
“Bastardo- who do you think you are waltzing onto Pazzi lan-“ the second guard was interrupted as a knife sunk hilt deep into his chest; Likewise with the other guard. As they suck to their knees Lorenzo walked up the stairs he plucked the throwing knives out of their chests and continued onward.
Pushing open the double doors he watched as the next four guards charged at him. He ran at the first guard who had his halberd pointed at him. As he dashed past the first guard he put out a foot- tripping him causing the man to fall forward onto the spines of the back of his spiked boot as it came around in a backwards kick. Rolling over the falling body he landed back onto two feet and caught the wooden handle of the second halberd- catching the young guard by surprise, he pushed, sending the blade into the stomach of the third that began to ruin the marble floor with a crimson stain as he crumpled to the floor. Pulling the halberd out of the body he pulled the guard into a knee in the face sending him reeling back with a broken nose. He turned, still clutching onto the bloodied halberd as the fourth guard stood shaking.
“eseguito mentre hai ancora le gambe,(1)” Lorenzo said expressionlessly, his mask hiding the anger in his eyes. The last guard dashed off down the hallways. Something almost like a smirk crawled onto the man’s face; he licked the small cut he had gotten from a halberd, tasting the coppery red substance as it poured out the small laceration. He crossed the bloodstained white marble and exited the main hall, up the spiral stairwell.
“Ah, Assassino,” a deep, chocolaty voice chimed, it was hate filled but unnaturally calm “I see you have come to die.” Lorenzo could see Francesco leaning up against a balcony, the wind ruffling his dark brown hair.
Florence balled his hands into fists “You’re trapped Francesco, you will pay for what you have done, and you will send the devil my regards.” He could feel his temper rising, not good, he would lose focus and wind up getting shot or worse.
“Ah, I do believe you have our positions switched, you see, I am the one who has cornered you.” Francesco nodded, watching as six guards stepped out from the shadows, blocking any clear way out. Lorenzo growled, slipping the daggers into his hands again.
“You will fall, bastardo.” He charged, noticing the guard taking aim with a crossbow from behind him he moved charging at the guard to the right of Francesco. Jumping he used the man’s head as a boost vaulting himself higher into the air and sending the man he had jumped over into the path of the crossbow bolt. One down, five guards to go. He ducked under a swipe from another guard and kicked- lodging his boot-spikes into the heavy armor the man was wearing. He felt a drop of sweat trail down the side of his face as he tried pulling which proved worthless as he heard the metal start to shred. Looking up he quickly hopped to one side, missing the blade of a halberd by inches but having the shaft of the weapon connect painfully with his leg. He could hear a snap, either it was his leg breaking or it was the metal in the boot wrenching free of the iron armor. He stumbled back, clutching his bruising leg.
He watched Francesco clap nonchalantly at the display, “You have some skill I see?”
“Si, to put it modestly.”
He lashed out with a foot, the spines on the leather separating a man’s jaw from his head, “very modestly,” he corrected himself, watching as the guard howled, his jaw barely connected to his face by a few tendons.
He looked around, seeing as the remaining guards took a hesitant step back. He spun striking a man in the chest with a knife sending the guard tumbling back. Lorenzo turned towards Francesco who backed up towards the balcony. “Stay away, Guards! …Guards!” Francesco shouted, fear now audible in his voice, but none of the guards came they stayed away from the masked assailant.
“Ve, goodbye, Francesco De Pazzi,” Lorenzo said, inches away from the man who had taken everything from him. He grabbed the noble by the collar, pushing against the open air. When Lorenzo was about to let go he was hit in the lower side by the bolt from a crossbow, he coughed, round crimson dots speckled the corners of his lips. The Nobleman grinned wickedly, switching their positions so Lorenzo leaned out over the edge.
His vision swam as the corners of his view darkened significantly. He blinked, unsure of why the world was upside-down. As his memory came back to him he whipped his head to glare directly into the face of Francesco. “Let us see who this Assassin is then, shall we?” he smiled evilly, reaching a hand out and undoing the laces that held the face guard in place, as the ribbons fell away Florence could hear the church bells toll midnight. As the mask was removed from his face and the bright full moon reflected off his hate filled eyes.
“You are the Lorenzo boy, si?”
“Boy is a interesting word to use,” he said. Considering the fact that he had about fifteen hundred years on the man, his face emotionless but his eyes burning with the desire to murder.
“It’s a shame, the way you fought you would have made a magnificent guard, you protected Lorenzo until your dying breath.”
“Ve, I’m not dead yet you cazzo,” He growled, he was leaned against the railings, he pushed back, falling- but hooking his legs under Francesco’s arm’s he hauled him over the side with him. Florence landed sharply on the ground, pain shooting up the leg that had been injured, he landed partially on his back- pushing the iron bolt deeper into his side, he coughed up blood as his vision began to fade. He watched Francesco stand, limp over to him and draw out a rapier, kneeling down the nobleman glared at him.
“Humans can rule ourselves without the help of things like you.” He spat, pushing his hand onto Lorenzo’s wound. The Florentine screamed, writhing as pain coursed through his body. He struggled to pull himself free, but he watched as the Noble man push down more the front of his shirt stain blood red and the tip of something start to poke through the skin on his stomach.
He felt the pain started to affect his vision, it felt like he was seeing the world from under water. He reached up a hand placing it weakly on Francesco’s throat. Pushing the small needle he had concealed into the man’s neck. Watch as his face contorted in pain as he jerked back, spasmodically shaking as he lay on the ground. Lorenzo coughed more blood as he sat up, propping himself onto his hands before standing, turning to look at the guards who stared awestruck at the blood soaked dirt in the courtyard.
“You’re Francesco is dead, killed for murdering Giuliano. I will take my revenge for Lorenzo next,” He called at them, and then he turned and began to limp back to his now empty villa.
Lorenzo leaned back in his chair; he still could feel where the iron had impaled itself into him. They were a pair of scars that stuck out on his other wise clear skin minus the occasional scar here and there. They were the mark of the fall of his Golden Age- where he had been the center of power; afterwards it fell into Rome’s control. He was startled slightly when his pocket started vibrating, removing the phone from it.
“Ciao,” he replied
“Ciao Zoni!” a certain happy Italian practically shouted into the phone, causing Lorenzo to hold the phone away from his face for a second for his ear to recover.
“Yes Feliciano?”
“Come to the after party!” He gleefully cheered, “There is food, wine and women- oh Roma… don’t touch me here~”
“Bene,” he chuckled, “I’ll be right over,” after saying their goodbye he clicked the phone shut and stood, stretching, he grabbed his coat and put it on, slipping a small box into his pocket as he left, stepping out into the wet city.
As he walked he could hear an extra pair of footsteps following him. Not saying anything he continued on his way. The footsteps followed. Lorenzo growled. Walking a little faster the footsteps did likewise. With an annoyed sigh he turned around and looked at his follower. A young boy, not older than twenty stood there. Baggy jeans and a basketball jersey sagged off of him and he held a sharp looking knife.
“Gimme your money gramps,” he demanded waving the knife at Florence.
“I have no money,” Lorenzo shrugged “I have no need for it.”
“I know you got something on you, like that- what’s that.” He said, pointing to the small box sticking out of the Florentine’s pocket.
Florence removed the box “Sharp eyes my friend-“
“I ain’t your friend.”
“-Boy,” he corrected himself, slightly annoyed at the interruption. Removing the lid he held up the shiny piece of gold “It’s a Roman coin. A gift though to a married couple, I’m not giving it away to strangers.”
“How much’s it worth?”
Florence studied the coin a bit “Depending on your eye it might be worthless, but it is pure gold and a historical artifact so…”
“Give it here.”
“No, I told you already, this is to my sister and her husband.” He said calmly.
“Don’t make me stab you,” the man threatened, flipping the knife over in his hand.
“Personally my boy I don’t think you could physically harm me.” Florence said nonchalantly slipping the coin back in the box and the box back into his pocket.
“I’ll bet I win,” the boy proudly stated, crossing his arms. “20 bucks says I’ll incapacitate your old ass.”
“This coin says you don’t. No please if we are going to fight do you mind speeding it up a bit I really have somewhere to be.”
“Dammit you old geezer-“
“Watch your tongue boy or I’ll cut it out.” Lorenzo said sharply interrupting the boy, his brow lowered into a glare; being called gramps and old was annoying enough but geezer was terrible. He wasn’t /that/ old.
The boy looked slightly taken aback before drawing back his hand and stabbing at Florence who simply sidestepped the move and grabbed his hand and twisting it behind his back, giving the now terrified boy a sly smile.
“Well then, is the bet still on?”
Fin~
A/N: Well, how about that for some kickassedness? *proud*
Florence: It wasn't that great.
Shut it geez- I mean. person.
Florence: *glares*
....Um.. well, heh. In your review do you mind filing out this and posting it? 1.Who's your favorite character and why? 2.Past ren/badass Lorenzo or present one? and why? 3.Fight or fluff scenes? Which one's better and why? 4.What would you like to see Lorenzo in next and why?
You don't have to fill it out but it would be very helpful, graze!
(1)= Run while you still have legs.
Weaver~
|
|
|
Post by Heracles Karpusi on Jan 19, 2012 22:33:46 GMT -5
Oh....my....god. I'm just happy Angel isn't here...although if she was she's probably be somewhat proud of Renny.
Ok, to answer your questions!!! 1.) Can't chose a favorite....probably chibitalia though.... 2.) Hum...Past ren!Lorenzo because there was just something about him...I think him now is almost giving up...like he doesn't have a drive anymore....he lives only for Angel, Vene, and Roma... 3.) Don't make me chose!!! *hides* they're both equally good.... 4.) I'll let you know when I get an idea, va bene?
|
|
|
Post by Carina Jones on Jan 19, 2012 23:12:27 GMT -5
*glomps Weaver* SO MUCH LOVE.
1.Who's your favorite character and why? Wait I have to pick one! Kuso! I choose not to choose because I'm too AWESOME kesesesese~! I can't I don't like picking favorites because then the others will feel left out and and and.... I can't choooooooooooose T.T
2.Past ren/badass Lorenzo or present one? and why? Je ne sait pas.
3.Fight or fluff scenes? Which one's better and why? I like Fluff better in some ways 'cause I like the melting, but the fighting was awesome and I wish I could manage to write action scenes like that.
4.What would you like to see Lorenzo in next and why? Anything I'm not picky I just want to see him more *glomps Lorenzo*
And here's my question for you! WHY YOU ASK HARD QUESTIONS DANGIT? >.<
P.S. For some reason I may be just a liiiiiiiitle hyper.
|
|
|
Post by Lili Zwingli on Jan 19, 2012 23:17:03 GMT -5
Ha, thanks guys.
WHY I ASK HARD QUESTIONS? Cuz I want to hear about people's reaction to him/his past.
|
|
|
Post by Angelica Vargas-Jones on Jan 19, 2012 23:21:42 GMT -5
You know what I'd like to see? Renny meeting Angel, Roma, and Vene for the first time while they're in mafia mode...*doesn't know if that made any sense*
|
|
|
Post by Lili Zwingli on Jan 19, 2012 23:26:15 GMT -5
*cheers* Tell me more~ Either here or pm.
|
|
|
Post by Carina Jones on Jan 19, 2012 23:26:37 GMT -5
*whines* but they so hard to answer! It's like the essay questions on a history exam!
I really have loved everything so far seeing the different sides of the character and I'd love to see more of him. I wish I knew more about Florence, but yea... history not so much good in my brain.
|
|
|
Post by Heracles Karpusi on Jan 19, 2012 23:31:32 GMT -5
meh~ *hides* I'm not sure...it just popped into my head...I'll PM you....
|
|