Riccardo

“Why yes. Glad you like my ensemble.” Smiling at a memory. “I never quite managed to change the elites minds about having shorter, less willowy models at New York Fashion week - specifically the men. Short of permanently afflicting them with the psychogical fear of the very tall.” Amused twinkle Riccardos way.“ Casual glance at the full wardrobes. "I had an idea but it seems only fair for you to dress me.” Stretching out his arms. “Be my guest.”

Riccardo grinned, kissing his cheek as he darted into the closet. "You have to tell me if I'm close to what you imagine. You already know I concede to your senses on such." He called, looking over the shirts and coats.

Catching those darker, yet never cold eyes with his own, the years peeled away. Leaving them as of old. Partners in crime. “I’m flattered you trust me with your aesthetic.” Gladly accepting the kiss. Eyeing the trousers section. “The soft black jeans then, artfully distressed for textured comfort.” Steering Riccardo over there, his chin still on point on familiar shoulder. “A sheer buoyancy shirt, silky mayhaps? With a black blazer, jacquard?” Hands pushing Riccardos to grasp aforementioned jeans and shirt, lastly the blazer. Moving back to the mirror to hook the clothes ready for wear.

Riccardo gave a light smile as he was routed to the articles of clothing Armand had in mind. He picked them up, looking them over carefully before giving an approving nod. “What shall you wear?” He asked, his curiosity perking. “Or shall I get dressed before I’m allowed to know?” His last sentence was offered playfully, his hands quickly pulling his shirt over his head.

“I’ll get you dressed first, then I’ll do my big reveal.” Watching Riccardo pulling on his shirt. A burnt swirled velvet shirt in dark silver, skin right black jeans and black Dr marten boots. With a charcoal blazer it’s autumn afterall.“

Riccardo chuckled, pulling the boots on before standing. He held his arms out, showing Armand the final product. "I'd imagine you were a mastermind behind Paris runway style at one point." He mused with a playful grin. "Your turn, then. What do you intend to wear?" He asked, excitment building.

Riccardo crossed his arms, giving a nonchalant shrug. “You don’t have to. I just thought it’d be a nice touch.” He replied, eyeing the other. “So, you’re the voice they all screamed about, the one that wanted free?” He asked curiously. “First we were running from Akasha and then you. I think the question still stands.” He mused, a smirk coming to his lips.

Riccardo crossed his arms, giving a nonchalant shrug. “You don’t have to. I just thought it’d be a nice touch.” He replied, eyeing the other. “So, you’re the voice they all screamed about, the one that wanted free?” He asked curiously. “First we were running from Akasha and then you. I think the question still stands.” He mused, a smirk coming to his lips.

Catching those darker, yet never cold eyes with his own, the years peeled away. Leaving them as of old. Partners in crime. “I’m flattered you trust me with your aesthetic.” Gladly accepting the kiss. Eyeing the trousers section. “The soft black jeans then, artfully distressed for textured comfort.” Steering Riccardo over there, his chin still on point on familiar shoulder. “A sheer buoyancy shirt, silky mayhaps? With a black blazer, jacquard?” Hands pushing Riccardos to grasp aforementioned jeans and shirt, lastly the blazer. Moving back to the mirror to hook the clothes ready for wear.

Riccardo gave a light smile as he was routed to the articles of clothing Armand had in mind. He picked them up, looking them over carefully before giving an approving nod. “What shall you wear?” He asked, his curiosity perking. “Or shall I get dressed before I’m allowed to know?” His last sentence was offered playfully, his hands quickly pulling his shirt over his head.

The gleam turned to one of mischief in Riccardo’s dark eyes as he finished strapping his dagger into place, along with his sword. He came over to where Amadeo stood, giving a nod. “Let’s go before anyone becomes the wiser of our missing presence.” He mused, leading the way down to a lower level before climbing up into a window and cautiously hopping down to the walkway below. He turned, a reassuring smile on his face. “Are you coming?” He asked playfully.

Riccardo gave a light hearted chuckle at that, making to keep up with Amadeo. For being smaller than himself, he had to admit that his companion's agility exceeded his own at times in the most surprising of ways. He looked around as they made their way further from the Palazzo, watching and listening for any signs of trouble. "Even still, one slip is all it'll take to be at the end of the Master's switch." He replied softly, knowing they both knew it all too well that the Master was not likely to raise a hand to them unless something serious happened. He glanced at the water, guilt rising in his stomach at the memory. He moved to the outer side of their path, putting himself closer to the water. "The tavern is just ahead. "

Riccardo blinked, having not expected such an admonition,though he was sure Armand didn’t realize he’d been close by and had caught the conversation. He gave Armand a soft smile,coming up behind him before leaning in to kiss his temple. “You’ve been my salvation just as much, my confidant twice over.” He replied.

Rocking on his heels to lean back into arms he’d thought lost to him centuries ago. Smiling at the kiss. “Twice over hmmm. Good to have you present to heart flattering words. We paint such flowery prose of each others qualities. Shall we find a tavern full of drunks and carouse the night away like we used to, Caro?” Tilting his head to show eyes full of an old and inate mischeviousness. Amadeo peeking out. “Drink of drunks or partake of blood alcohol?”

Riccardo couldn’t hide the smile that began to spread across his face at that, nuzzling into Armand’s shoulder. “Ah, but what would they think of us, hm? Two young lovers out for the night? Two friends partying their youth away?” He teased, moving to not as he stepped beside Armand, offering him his arm. “Where ever you wish to go, I’ll be by your side.”

“Taverns aren’t what they used to be, but there’s a good few bars in New York. Plenty of youth to hide amongst. I’m sure we’ll brighten someone’s evening or inner fantasy life.” Their drinking nights had fallen into habits of comfort and roused passions. A world of their own within Marius’ dominion. “And where there’s innocence living their bet lives there’s evil waiting spoil it. Either way we’ll be sated.” Kissing Riccardos pulse line. Old habits indeed.

Riccardo gave a light laugh and a nod at that. “We can be wayward teens tonight, then.” He mused, agreeing softly. Riccardo led Armand out into the main room of the house. “Shall we go as we are or do you have a particular style in mind for tonight?” He inquired with a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. He knew some nights held more spice, depending on how they looked for the evening. Seductiveness came in a tie, but heat came in sheer. 

“Shall we play with a mix of both? Put on our tightest jeans. Sheer tops and a jacket or blazer. I’ll make sure no one steals them mind. You have enough clothes to chose from here don’t you, Caro?” Knowing exactly what outfit he’d pick as he lead Riccardo up the stairs to his own walk in wardrobe - Long term guests had their own one some times filled by their host - a velvet swirled peekaboo shirt in dark silver tones with black jeans. “I’ll help you dress.” Facing the taller male to a mirror, arching to rest a chin on Riccardos shoulder. “What do you fancy?”

A slow smile crept over his face as Armand detailed the outfit before leading him upstairs. He didn't mind Armand dressing him on nights like this. In fact, it was a mutual understanding, as far as he was concerned, that his companion's taste was far better than his own when it came to such. The soft pressure of his chin and the sweetest feeling of him so close caused Riccardo to turn, dark eyes catching lighter ones. "I leave it to your judgement." He replied, kissing Armand's cheek. "I like the idea of sheer and the tight jeans with the blazer. "

Riccardo blinked, having not expected such an admonition,though he was sure Armand didn’t realize he’d been close by and had caught the conversation. He gave Armand a soft smile,coming up behind him before leaning in to kiss his temple. “You’ve been my salvation just as much, my confidant twice over.” He replied.

Rocking on his heels to lean back into arms he’d thought lost to him centuries ago. Smiling at the kiss. “Twice over hmmm. Good to have you present to heart flattering words. We paint such flowery prose of each others qualities. Shall we find a tavern full of drunks and carouse the night away like we used to, Caro?” Tilting his head to show eyes full of an old and inate mischeviousness. Amadeo peeking out. “Drink of drunks or partake of blood alcohol?”

Riccardo couldn’t hide the smile that began to spread across his face at that, nuzzling into Armand’s shoulder. “Ah, but what would they think of us, hm? Two young lovers out for the night? Two friends partying their youth away?” He teased, moving to not as he stepped beside Armand, offering him his arm. “Where ever you wish to go, I’ll be by your side.”

“Taverns aren’t what they used to be, but there’s a good few bars in New York. Plenty of youth to hide amongst. I’m sure we’ll brighten someone’s evening or inner fantasy life.” Their drinking nights had fallen into habits of comfort and roused passions. A world of their own within Marius’ dominion. “And where there’s innocence living their bet lives there’s evil waiting spoil it. Either way we’ll be sated.” Kissing Riccardos pulse line. Old habits indeed.

Riccardo gave a light laugh and a nod at that. “We can be wayward teens tonight, then.” He mused, agreeing softly. Riccardo led Armand out into the main room of the house. “Shall we go as we are or do you have a particular style in mind for tonight?” He inquired with a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. He knew some nights held more spice, depending on how they looked for the evening. Seductiveness came in a tie, but heat came in sheer.