[ open ] freedom hangs like heaven

[cesar]

Date & Time: anytime in September
Location: all the places
Characters: Cesare Borgia and YOU
Summary: Cesare knocks on certain people's doors or otherwise trawls the city, all formats are fine by me!
Warnings: n/a

Fortune favors not the bold, but the early bird, the night owl, the one who sleeps not. She favors those who know precisely where to aim before the enemy even rouses himself from sleep, from pleasure. It takes only one shot to make or break one's fortune, yet there is so little time and so much to learn, too many red herrings to eliminate.

Only five more years until his twenty-sixth year.

Cesare spends so little time in his room when he isn't bathing or sleeping (sadly still a necessity), usually returning home as the night sky grows brighter and leaving just before noon to start his nocturnal wanderings again. But when he is home, he keeps to himself, silent as a ghost and as absent as if he isn't there at all.

He gives training only the requisite number of hours, because strength and force will never be his advantage. This he already knows. Better that he deals in stealth and information, in learning more about this world to figure out which strings to pull if he were to secure his and his mother's freedom. The Initiative's intent to overthrow the tyrant is a fool's errand so he would lend it little assistance unless the mission keeps him in their good books or aids his eventual escape.

Otherwise Cesare can be found in the city, cloaked in black velvet with the hood drawn up to hide his face. But even his attire would easily betray him, since his vanity would not allow him to dress in rags to hide himself better, and the sword on his hips gleam too brightly against the dismal surroundings. His hand grips the hilt warily as he moves from one shop to another, seemingly in search of something. He would be careful not to reveal his intent while there is another customer in the room, pretending to browse the goods on display, unless they catch him in the middle of a discussion with the owner. Then they might overhear words such as maps and pearls and bullets being discussed.

 

Comments

closed to Galadriel;

[cesar]

[ Cesare is not in the habit of presenting gifts to favored ladies. His engagements are too brief and fleeting to require such niceties, and frankly, he doesn't care enough to earn their favor beyond that. He has little regard for women who do not share his blood, unless they serve a purpose, like Ursula, or prove themselves a worthy threat, like Caterina Sforza.

Something about Galadriel strikes him as similar to the Tigress of Forlì, though the golden-haired lady is calmer and more mysterious, her claws more well-hidden. She piques his curiosity, and he thinks it wiser to gain her acquaintance rather than her ire.

So it is with these excuses in mind that he finds himself knocking on her door with a worn wooden box in his other hand. A gift. ]

[inafadingcrown]

[Galadriel opens the door, expecting one of any number of people. Her daughter is most likely, followed by a few close friends, then some she did not know as well but to whom she had offered some manner of assistance.

She did not expect the young man she had met in the marketplace.]

Cesare, was it not? This is a surprise. [She pauses to scoop up the little black kitten that's trying to escape the apartment. The kitten mews in protest.] To what do I owe the pleasure?

[cesar]

[ The look on his face seems to say the same, that he doesn't expect Galadriel to open the door herself, despite having made the journey to meet her. He recovers quickly, settling into an easy smile as he raises the box for her to see.

The cat is only granted a cursory glance. Quaint. ]

A conversation yet to occur.

[inafadingcrown]

You pique my curiosity.

[She steps back from the door and gestures for him to enter. The common room of the apartment is plain, but neat. Galadriel has kept what little decorating she has done to her personal room, for the most part. There's a few books, borrowed from the library, left on coffee table, a few other signs of her presence here and there, but it's clear that interior decorating hasn't exactly been the first thing on her mind.]

Please, come in.

[cesar]

[ Cesare bows his head as he enters, aware enough to note that what title she does claim for herself should afford her pride enough to demand such things. He can be the nobody for now, if that's what it takes to be a real somebody.

The relatively sparse room is well noted, but then even those with mighty titles are forced to share their space here, so perhaps it is no true reflection of her. He hovers by the middle of the room and holds out the box for her to take first. It is worn and unsealed, and inside is a single pearl earring that is missing its other half. Fitting, perhaps, coming from him, but then it's only because finding anything more suitable has been difficult even given an entire month. He waits until she opens it before speaking up, as if in defense of himself. ]

I will find you the other pair. In time.

closed to Joel;

[cesar]

[ His first impression of guns was the extensive collection that Joel revealed at his arrival. Their first and certainly fated meeting. Curiosity drove him to read more about it, ask around, until he finally procured for himself a handful of bullets from the town shops. But still no gun, which is why he is here, knocking at the man's door. Hesitant first, before trying again with hopefully more confidence.

Perhaps the man can help him in that regard, for he would gladly give away his hard-earned bullets for information, or perhaps, instruction. ]

[beardedflannel]

[ How anyone knows where the three of them are stashed away is beyond Joel, as they had taken to keeping quarters away from the units and everyone else, but when he opens the door and sees who it is, a part of him shouldn't be so surprised. "Nessuno". There had been a shady look to the guy when they had met in the courtyard a month ago under the shelter, something like he would go to great lengths to get what he wanted. So then what had Nessuno done to locate him when none of them (to his knowledge) had hinted at the location of their new home?

This man was trespassing, at least in Joel's mind. And he didn't take kindly to anyone trespassing.

Joel narrows his eyes, saying nothing at first, his frame almost filling the doorway as he takes in the sight of him standing there. Why? Why is he here? His hand comes off the handle to rest at his side, to rest close to where the pistol at his hip is always holstered. ]

You lost?

[cesar]

[ The walls have ears.

Cesare has none of the network of spies spread across the city like he did in Rome. He doesn't have enough eyes to tell him precisely at which hours his people of interest dined or wandered into town, whom they met and what they said. But the same tricks worked here as it did there. Money talks, and barring that, the threat of a painful end.

Given an entire month, tracking down a man he can easily describe is no feat to brag about. So he makes no mention of the effort he took to find this place, even smiling at the sight of Joel as if he's entirely expected. ]

I almost thought so. [ He holds up that pouch of bullets and shakes it so Joel can hear its content before offering it to him. ]

[beardedflannel]

[ Joel is not trusting that smile, how can he? He looks down at the offered pouch, at Cesare, and then down again at the offered little bag. He hears how the contents shake. Obviously it's not filled with mini bombs, they'd be dead by now or Cesare would've blown off his own damn hand. It's a familiar clinking.

... Ammo.

So why is this guy offering to him a bag of ammo?

Joel reaches out after a moment of pondering to reluctantly take the bag from Cesare's hand. ]

And what's this?

[smellslikefish]

[She goes to her rooms when she believes no one will be there-- at dawn, when most humans (and the like) sleep. Her hair is damp and plastered to her face, and her clothes cling to her-- but rather than move as if she's displeased, Adia relishes the wetness, and makes sure her clothes stay clinging to her skin.

Her expression is wary, frightened and angry all at once-- though no one is around, she grips her knife tightly and glances around the dark suite, trying to make sure she's alone.]

[cesar]

[ Unfortunately for her, that is precisely when Cesare deems is the right time to come home. But he prefers to be a tolerated roommate despite his strange sleeping habits, so he takes care to make little sound when he opens the door and closes it behind him. He waits there a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness, his dark clothes hiding him well enough. ]

[smellslikefish]

[Her breath catches; her fingers tighten on the knife.]

You are my roommate.

[She glares at him through the darkness. It's so easy for her to see, and she prefers to take any advantage she can-- so no lights, not yet.]

[cesar]

[ He notices the company only once she speaks up, squinting his eyes toward her general direction and catching only the glint of metal. A weapon, he presumes. Better to be exceedingly wary than otherwise. But his smile seems easy and he isn't compelled to stay in his place, now standing straighter to slowly walk closer. ]

Perhaps. We have not been introduced.

[deadlybanker]

[Those seeking information are bound to run across each other eventually. The darkened back alleys were filled with dens of hidden secrets. Night time prowling was the only way to uncover them.

It was in search of one of these that brought Giovanni to the small run down shop located on the outskirts of town. The hour was late but the scant information he had gathered from the locals indicated there was a hidden back room in this place where many black market dealings occurred. He had entered the store to 'browse' the racks of used clothing, using the pretense to keep an eye on the owner of the shop to see if the rumors were true.

The assassin was just about to make his approach to the counter when the bell over the door announced the arrival of some one new. Giovanni slipped quietly back behind the racks of clothing, narrowing his eyes at the new customer as he continued feigned interest in the wares of the shop. This man was dressed too well to be a local... unless he was the leader of the black market? Not to jump to conclusions he watched, very carefully, and waited to see what might happen. ]

[cesar]

[ Evenings suit him better. He feels his mind brighter during these hours, his senses clearer, even if it means fewer informants to find and fewer things to discover. But the daylight reveals too much and the noise distracts.

Cesare is still in search of a certain shop where he might find decently priced bottles of wine, even if he has procured the code which may yet open the hidden door, but the store can be whichever one in this city. It feels like weeding through an entire hay field. The other customer is met with a steady glance, the briefest flicker of disappointment crossing his eyes. He does hate being made to wait, but if he must-- Moving toward the other corner of the shop, he quickly browses through a rack of ragged coats to pick a decent one to bring to the counter.

So he is impatient. ]

Time and patience change things.

[deadlybanker]

[Speaking to himself or another?
The words were easily heard over the silence of the near empty store. There was only the shuffling movements of the clerk setting items out on the counter to be a minor distraction.

While the statement was true Giovanni was beginning to run out of both. The longer he stayed the more likely it was the clerk might become suspicious and from the way he moved, busy with his work but always watching, the heaviness in his back pocket, there was more to this man than simple shop keep. He was the guardian of that secret door as well and likely with the skills nessacary to protect it.

It was brash and something he had hoped to do when he was the only one in the store, but the clerk was already paying him too much unwanted attention. He had to move now or risk losing the information he was searching for. He gathered a few items and made his way to the counter.]

Buonasera.

[The friendly greeting was acknowledged only with a terse grunt.]

"We don't serve no travelers 'ere. 'Specially not ones what ain't what they seem."

[The clerk's lip curled into a fearsome snarl. Ah, so it was too late after all. He had been made and some time ago too if the cockiness displayed by the shop owner was any indication. One of the men he had spoken to in order to find this place must have made his way here and warned his compatriots. ]

Messer.

[Giovanni spoke loudly over his shoulder, to the other customer... if he was merely a customer. ]

You may wish to leave now. I doubt you will find what you wish here.

[But the footfalls of rapidly approaching booted feet might have made even that warning come too late. ]

[cesar]

[ To the shopowner, in case he responds with another strange turn of phrase that would show this place to be what he has been looking for. Otherwise, he would just sound like a mad man, which serves him well enough. It irks him that the shopkeeper is more intent on now watching the other customer in the room instead of replying. The terse response doesn't reveal anything new to him.

Cesare crosses his arms in front of him, seeing no point in hiding his displeasure at his interruption even above any fear of being surrounded by less-than-friendly locals. ]

But look, I have found what I want. [ He gestures to the coat he picked, turning back to the owner. ] But if my money buys me nothing here--

[justgo]

[It's a shame that two of those words are part of Tess' interest. She walks in just to catch the whisper, shifts her attention to the shelves, the books scattered against them along with the other miscellanea. She's been looking for maps of the area, of places others have been to from missions and while the search hasn't yielded much, this is one place she heard of through a rumor or two that could have helped.

From the way the conversation goes, it seems the gossip was on the mark. So for now she feigns interest in the same way Cesare may have, wonders if she's seen his face before (couldn't have, right?) and spares a brief glance over her shoulder.

Maybe not brief enough.]

[cesar]

[ Cesare has collected code words to open hidden doors and secret vaults before he found the right people to say them to, so much of this feels like grabbing about in the dark and hoping something will take a bite and yield him what he wants.

He is fortunate this time. Mulberry leaves do make softer silk, and the maps he requested has been cut up and bound between the pages of a large book he weighs in his hands. The owner would not allow him to open the worn wrapping to see that the map is indeed there, so he must take him at his word and risk being tricked or take the gamble. It is while he hems and haws at the steep price offered that he catches sight of the woman's glance, making no secret of watching her back but then, what's the real loss?

He clears his throat to catch her attention, to make his awareness known. ]

Are you proud of your good judgment?

[justgo]

[Not uncommon, transporting things by other means. Catching the book makes her wonder but she doesn't let her eyes stay there long. Still, she's drying off as she continues to look over things, unzipping her jacket just so she can let herself breathe a little. There's plaid under there (his shirt), and it may look familiar, considering the actual owner was wearing it just yesterday. It's better than nothing, and it's warm (not like anyone's paying attention to what Joel wears around here, anyway).

Fingers tracing the surface of the counter, she follows after the spine of a book, pulls it out and fingers through a few pages, eyes looking but hardly making sense of the words. It's when the voice comes from behind her that she stops in the middle of a page, lets her hand move to the bottom.]

Might've been, if I didn't get second place. [In a brisk manner, she closes the book and sets it back where she found it, turns to face the stranger with a slight smile, brow raised.] Find what you're lookin' for?

[cesar]

[ Only Cesare would, when he has spent days describing the man to find out where he lives, operating under the assumption that most have little money to spare for new clothes. Joel didn't strike him as the vain sort. But he tries his best to hide his surprise, quickly regaining his easy smile. ]

That would depend on what objects bear which names.

[ Her sense of humor is reassuring, though he casts a quick glance at the shopkeeper to see that calling on a second pair of eyes is fair game before holding up the wrapped book for her to see. ]

idk backdated to the 10th.

[scinlae]

[ do not feel bad, for her own dress betrays her just as easily. vanity is not something so easily shook, even after years of living in a hovel in the forests of camelot. black as her dress in, the lace is tight and intricate drawing many eyes. eyes of suspicion and other such.

she draws much attention to her, by dress and by the way she holds herself. the proud regal standing she refuses to let go of, she walks with the haughty air of the queen she is meant to be.

morgana finds him in discussion, a fortunate distraction from her aimless wandering, creeping up behind him as silent as she possibly can. ]

Still searching, after all this time?

[ HI CESARE. ]

YES

[cesar]

[ So intent he was in negotiating a fair price in a society where gold is without value and his name means nothing that Cesare jerks slightly before quickly turning about to find-- oh. Oh. Pardon his awkward smile that comes a little too late, and then the equally stilted bow. Derpface. ]

I found what I was seeking last. I may find yet another of my missions a success today.

HEE

[scinlae]

[ she bites back a laugh but it spreads to her face regardless, watching him smile and bow with eyes full of mirth. utterly pleased she is that she managed to catch him unawares. ]

Oh? And what is it you seek this time, my lord?

[cesar]

Cesare.

[ He has little love for titles and regards only his name as fitting. But he smirks. ]

Do you expect me to recall such things after the sight of you?