[ 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

[cesar]

Or if you suspect you might be knifed by said someone.

[ Using nouns as verbs modern-people style aw yeah. ]

[beardedflannel]

[ Watch, Cesare, as those hazel eyes of his eye you up and down. ]

I reckon I can handle them.

[cesar]

I am unsure if I can handle you, however.

[ That's sort of a compliment. ]

[beardedflannel]

[And Joel takes it as such, brow lifting shortly.]

How 'bout we concentrate on gettin' you started with guns first.

[cesar]

[ Cesare nods, crossing his arms in front of him and stepping closer. Show him the trick, Joel. ]

[beardedflannel]

We'll start you off with somethin' a little small, it being your first time and all.

[ Off he goes into the other room to retrieve his pack. Joel returns a minute later and sets it on the counter. The pack is missing the metal pipe (if Cesare remembers it from their first meeting) as it's one of the weapons he prefers to keep near his bed should he need to reach for it in the middle of the night to swing at anyone who dares to trespass.

From off of his hip, Joel pulls his pistol out of its holster. He pulls the magazine free and lays it on the counter in front of Cesare before reaching for his revolver and doing the same, unloading the six bullets out of the chamber, putting it down onto the counter. Nope, don't need the gun to be loaded, not in the hands of someone who has no idea how to use one and might even be trigger-finger-happy.

Should Cesare ask about any of the other weapons he notices, Joel will answer anything about them. This is, after all, a lesson in twenty-first century weaponry.

Joel waits to see what the younger man will do then, watching him. ]

[cesar]

[ Cesare can be trigger happy, but that part of his personality usually comes in the presence of other Italians. Joel feels more like a neutral party, just a mentor. Not that it means his fingers won't itch to touch all the fancy weapons being laid out to tempt him. He stands no chance against most temptation, much like his father, perhaps.

He picks up the small one and the magazine, weighing both in his hands and squinting at every detail. They are heavier than he expected. ]

Arrows can only reach so far. What of bullets?

[beardedflannel]

Depends on the firearm. A shotgun bullet won't get far but it ain't meant for long range, it's more of a...

[ Letting his explanation trail off Joel pulls his shotgun free. The weapon comes up, aimed in Cesare's face. But he takes three steps back before the younger man can go to knock the barrels away. ]

From here, I shoot you and there ain't gonna be anyone who'll recognize what's left of you face. [ Then the shotgun is lowered to Cesare's chest level. ] And here, you're gonna wanna pray the bullet hits your heart and kills you instantly, knocks you flat on your ass, or else you're gonna have a slow death from the shrapnel cuttin' into your lungs, bleedin' you from the inside out.

[cesar]

[ Cesare tries to step out of the shotgun's way, feeling entirely uncomfortable with staring into those barrels even without knowing what guns can do. He has a good idea of cannons and figures guns are only miniatures of those, therefore equally gruesome. He is still smirking however, slowly placing the small gun and the magazine back on the table so his hands are free to hold that shotgun. ]

Be sure to aim for my heart and aim well.

[beardedflannel]

[ Joel's brows furrow. He gives Cesare an odd look because what the hell are those words. ]

You're here to learn your way around guns, not teach me flowery poetry or whatever the hell it is you just said.

[ A small scowl twists his lips, but he slowly holds out the shotgun (after he emptied it of the two red bullets capped in bronze). ]

[cesar]

[ Cesare chuckles, being the morbid asshole that he is, and takes that shotgun with a grateful nod. As fond as he is for flowery poetry and sarcasm, preferably both, hard weapons are best. A corpse is the clearest message anyone can send.

He again weighs the weapon in his hands before holding it up the way Joel did, only he takes care to point it away from the man. ]

Which do you prefer?

[beardedflannel]

Survivin'.

[ And here is where Joel line-faces at the curly haired youngun, voice hardening. Not another word comes out of him as he goes to walk around Cesare, looking at how he holds the shotgun, how he stands. Joel reaches out to fix it against his shoulder, nodding. ]

Think of a gun like a cannon, any gun - doesn't matter if it's a handgun or a hunting rifle - it's gonna have a bite behind the way it kicks back after it's been fired. Sometimes hard 'nough to bruise, if it's rested against your shoulder like this.

Hold it steady. Press the trigger, feel how it resists.

[cesar]

[ Rarely is Cesare nervous; mostly when it comes to his father's scrutiny or when trying to maintain a beautiful deception. The key is in pretending competence and strength until one achieves them in truth. He has always been gifted in that, taking whatever instruction Joel gives and imprinting it in his mind.

The trigger, then. That also feels heavier than he expected. ]

Is there no way to avoid the bruising? The mark of a gunman.

[beardedflannel]

Eventually your shoulder's gonna get used to it. You'll grow a tougher skin with each time you fire somethin' off. It ain't nothing a pack of ice can't take care of.

[ Joel claps him on the shoulder, nodding. He knows Cesare will get the hang of it, if he wants to learn as badly as he does and protect those he holds dear? Cesare will learn, and Joel will be the best teacher he gets. ]

wow you should whack me over the head for this )':

[cesar]

[ Cesare eyes that hand on his shoulder curiously. That's not something he allows most to do, those not his father or brother (and even then not quite). But Joel has probably taught him something that would save his life so it seems fitting somehow.

He lowers the gun and rests it on the table again. ]

Would it be forward of me to assume you agree to take me as an apprentice? A student if you will.

neverrrrrr

[beardedflannel]

[ Joel goes quiet, lowers his head to look down at the gun resting on the table now where Cesare had put it. He thinks on it for a few silent moments; teaching Cesare all that he knows might mean he'd have an extra hand to help him in keeping Ellie safe. Tess is more than capable of watching her own back, Joel knows this for a fact, but it's Ellie and her protection that linger in the back of his mind and nag.

Looking up and over to him, Joel gives a nod. ]

You'll be just as good as me, if not better.

<333!

[cesar]

[ The smile comes easily to him. Trust is what he wants most of all, from his father, his family, more than even affection. He can do all he needs to so long as he holds the trust of those who matter to him. Joel has, in a roundabout way, made himself a place there.

Cesare reaches to pat Joel on his arm. ]

I will find you more bullets.

<3

[beardedflannel]

No need to rush. I'll be 'round whenever you're ready.

[ And he means that. They'll start when Cesare feels he's ready to tackle the guns. And when they can find a suitable spot to fire the ammunition. ]