Hot Blooded (Open)

[Ezio Sammartino]

Ezio Sammartino emerged from the dockside tavern rather worse for the wear. A cut bled profusely above his left eye, as such wounds are wont to do, and a few hours would see the other minor cuts and scrapes on his arms, legs, and jaw bloom into full color with bruising. He caught his balance on a barrel of rainwater, blinking with developing sobriety at the darkened streets of Mar'vol City. The sounds of a fight being broken up by the bartender with a cudgel could be heard behind him as he made his way (intermittently gripping the facades of buildings for support) back to the castle.

In truth, darkness had fallen only shortly before, but being a young nobleman of no particular profession meant Ezio had time to get drunk and begin to sober up before the watchmen changed to the night shift. The walk up the hill, through twisting cobblestone streets, had the effect of bringing the edge off his drunkenness. Well, that and the fight in the bar. He couldn’t quite remember how it had come about. Probably some dreadful insult that a Sammartino could not suffer without coming to blows. Originally he'd come down to drink with two of the grooms from the castle, one recently having lost his job from some meddling by higher ups. Ezio felt for the man and bought several rounds of drinks. Eventually the two men had left, one still having work to do and the other to break the news to his family. Ezio had remained…

At the gates of the castle, a guard merely rolled his eyes and waved him through. Security was tighter now that war was imminent, but Ezio (and his proclivity for getting involved in scraps) was well known here. His father was good friends with the king, after all. Once inside the walls, he wandered to a small courtyard he was fond of. It was rarely frequented and, even better, contained a fountain. It had occurred to him that cleaning up before facing his father would probably be a good idea. The scabbard of his rapier scraped on the stone as he knelt before the tinkling fountain, rinsing his face off with the chill water. Little did he know he was not the only person to come to the courtyard this evening…

[Tag: anyone!]

[cirino]

Cirino loved the night, no one knew that better then Allegra, his concubine. But she was asleep within his own chambers as the king descended the stone steps and came out into the courtyard. Naturally Cirino had a Mar'volian guard behind him, an escort of sorts. One did not go into the night for a leisure stroll when they were a king without some form of security, that would have been madness. But Cirino was a man that through years of fighting, hardship and discipline could handle himself even in the roughest of tavern brawls.

As he entered outside and into the cold courtyard his green eyes immediately fell upon a shadow of a person crouching by the fountain. Cirino's ears heard the slow unsheathing of the guard's sword behind him. Cirino silently raised a hand. If he assumed right, the person, or rather man by the fountain was none other then Ezio Sammartino. The only and youngest son of Count Marius, a good, old and trusted friend of Cirino. The king let a small faint smirk pass his face before he strolled over towards Ezio.

Bending at the waist when he was beside Ezio he spoke "can't let your father see you like that now can you Ezio" Cirino pointed out, his voice deep but kind. He took a step back, he knew he would have startled the boy. No doubt still feeling the affects of Mar' volian ale.

[Ezio Sammartino]

Ezio gulped down some of the wonderously cold water, a moment before the king snuck up on him. He promptly spat it back out in surprise and had to swallow the urge to let more than a mouthful of water spit out. His stomach was none too pleased with the beating he’d given it today. A series of expletives ran through his mind, each worse than the last, but at least he'd sobered up enough to keep them from coming out of his mouth. A lucky thing, that. Placing a wet hand on the fountain's edge, he eased himself into a standing position to face his sovereign.

"Your majesty," he said, bowing as deeply as he dared in his current condition. He felt light-headed as he straightened up again and winced at the rush of blood to his head. "It wouldn’t be the first time," Ezio answered the king, unable to keep something of a smirk off his face. Its swaggering effect was marred by the fact that his face looked green as the sea crashing below. He hadn't gotten ill from drinking in ages… well, quite a while. At least a week.

He could hear Luana's chiding voice telling him he'd better amend his statement or get in worse trouble than he'd already found himself in. "But all things considered, t'would be better if he didn’t know." There, that sounded better, he told the Luana in his head. "I'd hate to burden him with such knowledge." Better still. "I mean, he’s practically the most important man in the realm." Too far, too far! A recovery… alas, his mind moved too slowly! Curse that wicked ale! "Besides your majesty, of course," Ezio corrected himself, suppressing a hiccup.

[cirino]

Cirino watched as Ezio tried his best to stand, his green eyes studied Ezio to make sure he did not fall or trip over himself. When he bowed a smile came to Cirino's features, even while intoxicated he showed manners, well done boy. Cirino noted Ezio's awful color in his face and he took a step back just incase Ezio decided to vomit. The king let out a chuckle as Ezio said it would be better if his father did not know. "True" was the only word that came from Cirino's mouth as Ezio started to speak once again.

A smirk came to his face when Ezio stated that his father was the most powerful man in the kingdom, but when he quickly saved himself saying besides Cirino himself. He let out a laugh "Ezio, there is hope for you still" he placed a hand on the young man's shoulder, looking him over his hand still upon his shoulder "care to follow me back inside, get you cleaned up and into a nice warm bed?" he asked as he spotted blood upon Ezio's face.

[Ezio Sammartino]

Ezio breathed a sigh of relief (probably audible, but who cared?) when the king decided not to take offense and clapped him on the shoulder instead. He knew he had a talent of getting himself into trouble, as he’d told his parents time and again. It was just that he didn’t quite have the knack of recognizing trouble until he’d found himself knee-deep in it! Luckily the fact that Ezio tended to speak without thinking, rather than malicious in his words, was often his saving grace. And sometimes he proved pathetically amusing rather than a threat and won his way out of consequences that way.

“I’d ‘preciate if you told my father that,” Ezio said with a sloppy grin. “He’s always saying I’m hopeless.” He nodded at the king’s kind offer – honestly, it was far better than he deserved, useless soused up louse that he was. “Your majesty, has anyone ever told you you’re a fellow worth buying an ale for? ‘Cause you are,” the young nobleman mused. “Not like,” here he hiccupped, “not like those bloody Lamorians. What kind of country passes over a man for a woman’s rule, anyway?” Lamora had always been a mystery to Ezio, when he bothered to think on it. (Which wasn’t often. Ezio wasn’t terribly concerned with foreign policy past who their enemies were.)