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carmine lake[m]
this this rp will be labled as 'm' for violence and/or gore, if you don't like blood why are you reading a vampy rp anyway?
carmine lake, carminio di cocciniglia, is a type of red pigment made from the crushed bodies of a certain species of insect, it produced a vibrant, bloody red hue, it was used in the renaissance as not only a main source of red pigment but as a varnish as well |
he pulled his cloak on and grabbed his hat, he was disgusted with the assistant he was given, the boy was an imbecile, he was slow and stupid and now on top of that incompetent. he slammed his fist on a nearby table. how could the child forget the carmine? the most important color! he stomped across the gallery, it was bad enough his paintings were not nella moda but his patron was threatening every day to cancel her contract, what could he do? he sighed, his anger gone for a moment, it was not the child's fault, it was too much for only one boy. he looked out the open window, the carnevale chiaro was still in full swing, he looked around for a mask, it would not do to be picked out just because he did not look the part of the reveler. he fit it over his face and rushed downstairs and out into the festival crowd. he'd have to knock on a few doors tonight if he was to get the painting started before the damning dawn rose to seal his fate
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My mother always told me never to wander into the streets at night...especially if there's a festival or a carnival or you'll be nabbed by mysterious people... He smirked to himself, "She'll die with regrets..." Taking his coat from the coat rack, felt around for some spare currencies in his pockets and with a nod, he opened the door and closed it behind him and left. Uncertain of the time of his return. His heels made loud clicking sounds on the pavement as he made his way to the festival, indicating his excitement. The lights, the sounds, the yelling, the people...something about it made him want to explore the things that his mother told him never to put a finger on. Walking as fast as he could with only mesmerized eyes aimed at the festival, he nearly forgot that he hasn't eaten the whole day and hasn't taken his medicine. He pushed himself into the crowd, he stumbled for a bit when a huge man barged in where he struggled to push and accidentally bumped into his shoulders. When he caught his balance, he looked up and marveled at everything...small bands playing, people drinking, puppet shows, and gambling...he took one deep breath and said, "Finally..." |
he saw the man get bumped into by the distraction as a small child, the pickpocket, stole his purse. he chuckled at the easy ruse but still grabbed the brat as he passed by, a firm hand in front of the child was enough, he dropped low on his haunches his arm still out to the child. 'you know' he said sweetly 'that is no good at all, stealing from stranieri. he looked at the boy through his mask. the child had recognised his voice he noticed. he smiled through the mask. the child shackily handed over the bag, it was empty by now of course, either by the child or the man it was taken from but all the same it was no longer with the little boy. he took it lightly then let go of the child. the bambino ran off as fast as his tiny legs would go. he turned back to the man, still lost in his wonderment and walked over. 'excuse me, you seem to have dropped something' he handed over the purse.
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While he was feeding his mind and heart with everything that's surrounding him, a cool voice suddenly broke his amazement. Normally he would ignore annoyance like that, however, the man's voice was so cool it made him turn around and see who it was. He smiled at the masked man then glanced down to see what it was he dropped, "Oh...my purse. Thank you, Mister~" he said in a voice almost squeaky. He grabbed the purse, nodded at the kind mad and walked off to the nearest small band and listened to them play a jolly tune. As he was listening, he turned his head to see if the man was still standing there or if he has walked away. He seemed nice, but there's nothing wrong with being sure... He gasped, seeing that what's left of his purse is nothing but laces and ribbons. He turned around, ready to yell at the man...but he was gone, the spot where he had exchanged a few words with him has been replaced by drunk men and prostitutes. "Where'd he go...?" he gripped his purse then looked around for any sign of the mysterious man. |
he did not stay long enough to get a name, he had other things to do first. whisking through allys and streets. he banged loudly on the door when he got to it. the man who answered was not pleaseed ' WHO THE H-' he stopped and blanched. he hurried backwards and and bowed. 'i am sorry signore rosso'the man hurried to the side room. 'is it paint or brushes that has you out?' he looked at the wares 'paint, rosso, my assistant did not get the carmine.' a small jar was handed over. he looked at the owner still in his mask though even without showing his face the man looked away nervously. he tossed a silver coin at the other. neither bothered to count it. 'i bid you good night, and i am sorry for the trouble' he left swiftly.
when he reached the place he saw the foreigner before he looked around. he could not see the man but it did nothing to discourage his looking, he did not know why but there was something special about the other, his intuition said as much and it never was wrong. |
His heartbeat was fast, he started to sweat, gripping tighter to his purse, he started pushing through the crowd in hopes of seeing the mysterious masked man. I must get to him...I need the money to eat, since I haven't eaten anything today. He thought to himself. When he finally came out from the pool of bustling people and loud noises, a cold wind brushed against his face as he looked up and saw the mysterious man walking away from a house. He wanted to yell at him, but suddenly his stomach started to lurch, he winced but he was determined to follow the man. The mask was disturbing him so he removed it, "what's the use, It didn't help me anyways..." He walked the the other way around to meet him on the opposite side, he walked as fast as he could ignoring with all his might the pain burning in his insides. He stopped and leaned on the wall, trying to maintain his poise, gripping his purse and mask with one hand to his stomach, the other stiff on the side. He was panting as he said, "You..." |
'you...' he turned to the voice, there! he took a reverse step back to the straniere. "me?" he frowned behind the mask, what was the other asking. he drew close enough to see the other man's face in the lights of the festivel and clse enough that revelers went around instead of through them. pulled his mask from his face "how may i be of assistance?" he gave a smile and looked at the other. his thoughts jarred as he say the face before him, large sea-green eyes looked into his. he was left speechless.
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"I want my money back...plea--" As he released these words, he fell to his knees and on his side. He clutched his empty purse and mask tightly and wrapped his arms around his stomach, "I must...eat something...then take...medicine..." he was writhing in pain now. He curled up like a fetus, gathering all the heat from his body and directed it towards his stomach in order to alleviate the pain. He looked up at the man who finally took his mask, but he couldn't make up his face for his vision started to blur. "Please..." |
he watched the man drop to the ground and wrap upon himself. he was shocked. he leaned down quickly and grasped at the other man's cloak he pulled the other up into his arms. he looked at the other hoping to see what was wrong, he looked healthy albeit thin and he was breathing fine, he had no signs of the plauge or the fever. there was nothing to be done, half carrying and half walking the man he tried to get away from the crowded street. he found an ally mought nad leaned the other against the wall. he smacked at the other lightly. "hey" he whispered urgently "hey, wake up"
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He was shivering to the bones, he thought he was going to puke but since he didn't have anything for breakfast, lunch and dinner he couldn't. He tried to look up the man and tried to speak, but his lips were too dry. When the man helped him up, he felt fainter than when he was on the pavement. Feeling very lightheaded, he tried his best not to look up, then he felt a warm and hard smack across he face, he was able to muster the strength to look up at him and stare into his eyes. He managed to grunt but then he tried his best to say, "N...no..." |
there was no helping it then, praying to a god he did not believe in he hefted the other into his arms properly and took his back to the studio, if nothing else at least there he would not get accosted or be arrested by the polizia. when he had gotten to the shop he lived over and ascended the stairs he let the other half down, he pulled him through the narrow door and half flung and half led him to the narrow bed. he had no other ideas past that and tried desperately to rouse the other in hopes of getting direction
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