(2018-04-30) Serious Business
Completely serious business is had amidst the Albrici Family
giuliana valentina 
Siblings discuss the finer things in life, from predator and prey to reading and horseback writing. Discussions of the upcoming Sebastino Feast are had.
Stand alone, ongoing story.
Misc Info:
Someone is ticklish, someone smells of mud and dirt, and someone is just a dork. The viewer may decide for themselves which is which.

Its that most delightful time of the day. Late morning, maybe aftenroon. Somewhere in there where the sun is up and the morning birds have come and gone, allowing a little bit of silence to reign outside. It was filled with the noise of the city and its that noise in which Raffiano findshimself in the family's salon. If one had to guess, and sometimes they do, the somewhat bedraggled fellow may just be returning home from an outing which may have started last night. He's made effort to be presentable, hair mostly in order, his clothes arenot crumpled, much. And he's walking like a normal person, not some walking dead shambling about. Or so it would seem, cause as he enters the salon and is looking over his shoulder, maybe at a servant or a guard nearer the main entrance, his foot finds the toe some large peice of furniture, which causes him to hope, stumble, let out a mild explicitive and look about the room. Its that dawning relization, he could look foolish hoping about and cursing at the furniture if someone was present after all.
"Well that's a noise worthy of waking the dead," comes a voice from behind the drapes. The heavy brocade of the curtains is pushed to one side, and Giuliana's head pokes out. She's found a comfortable spot for herself upon the wide window seat that looks out on the gardens, her feet hitched before her so that her skirts spill to the floor, and with a book propped against the angle of her thighs. The seat has always been a popular place for family members to take themselves off to, especially when as children they'd sneak treats from the kitchen and hide themselves with their plunder. Her smile is broad as she observes the hopping about of her brother, and if he's hoping not to look foolish, he's probably failed. It's perhaps an easy deduction to draw that he's stubbed a toe, and so without hesitation she decides to tease him. "Did the furniture attack you again, Raffiano?"

A startled noise, that eases into a grin when Raffiano sees it is his sister. His hand trying to grab that toe, as if touching the wound magically makes it feel better, it moves to pat the side of the offending piece of wood and upholstry. "Exactly thus, sister dear, you saw it this time, I am vindicated." As if some small victory was achieved. As if dignity is saved, and yet his impish smile indcated he knows full well, he's looked the fool. But he tries for a serious face for the now. "A good book," see focus shifted so easily, he noticed it resting there. Though she probably enjoyed looking out the window. He knows he does sometimes, especially when some ladies are out there in the garden, or something like that. He moves closer, as if looking at the window. "I may learn to read yet," as if he knows some but has been stubborn about it, for most of his life, come to think of it.
Giuliana giggles at Raffiano, her head and shoulders limned in gold where the sun floods the room from behind her. "I certainly did not see it Raffiano, so if called as a witness to the case on the matter, I would have to decline. It was the throttled cat noise that you made which alerted me to your plight." She scoots herself back on the seat, leaving just enough room for Raffiano to sit himself down should he feel so inclined. "And yes. My book is a very good read. It's an anthology of poetry from Avicorse." She marks her place with a length of pink ribbon, then flips the books shut to show to her brother the tooled leather cover that's chased with gold lettering. "Luca, that little man in the bookshop, obtained it for me. Is it not beautiful? See here, this is the name. An-tho-lo-gy of Po-e-try." Her finger traces beneath the letters as she spells them out. "I know that you're busy and that time can get short, but you only have to ask, and I will teach you."

A hand comes up to tap his nose, "Right, right. See, we're on the same page." Though he just admitted there he probably couldn't read it all, but Raffiano is more teasing about tit all than antyhing. He takes that hint of an edge to barely sit on, "Ah, poetry, my favorite." True. "I should come to the art of writting down my own, but that." He sighs a non-conclusion to that statement, writing, it takes writing. Which is like serious work. "This is good poetry to share, or not in present company?" A brow raises, he looks closer, "Does Nicolo know what you're reading in here?" He just assumes, as a tease really, his concern over her preferred reading material is more she should read what she likes. A look at the words, and a laugh as she sounds it out with her finger tracing it. "Ohhh, see, I would have guessed a book of wives tales about cooking or something of the sort. I don't know what an Anthology is, but sounds precarious truth be told. I'd probably like it. You should teach me." He leans a little her ways, sharing some of his brotherly weight in that direction. She doesn't have to give him more room, just help support his carcass. "So, some big dinner thing coming up with the Sebastino's I hear. I was supposed to tell Nicolo the Conte Cristofano would be delighted for the company." He look towards the window, more to see who's walking about the gardens. "I suppose he's going right, or should I hunt him down?"
Raffiano manages to squish Giuliano's toes just a little when he wedges himself into the space she's allowed him, so with a scrunch of her nose she pulls her feet from beneath him and unwittingly surrenders some territory. It does mean that his thigh is now a prop on which to rest her slippered feet, and she makes certain to do so. "It's pastoral poetry, so probably not something that you yourself would enjoy, Raffiano. It's about sunrises that uplift the spirit, and the way that flowers nod their heads in the meadows. And love." There's a quick uplift of her shoulders and she slips the book into the cradle of her lap, hooking her arms about her shins so her chin can rest on her knees. A purse of her mouth to the mention of parties. "I am unable to go to that, though I wish that I could. I met Signora Arabella Sebastino in the Grand Plaza, and she mentioned it to me then. Much to my chagrin it conflicts with another invitation that I have, and one that I cannot get out of. I've not mentioned it to Nicolo myself as I've not seen him since the invitation, so it'd be as well for you to do so if you can." A hand lifts from where it's looped on her legs, and a thread is picked from her skirts, rolled into a ball and flicked his way. "So I take it that you will go?"

He suffers his leg as a footrest, as if he was some Katoran servant, if only someone would design a foot rest, they could call it the Katoran even. Alas, it is Raffiano's thigh for now and he suffers. "That sounds dreadfully exicting I admit it," he grins looking at her, sort of over a shoulder as he likes the window view just the same. "Its shy a little bit of drama and conflict I imagine, but I could suffer it. If I had to. Meadows and love," he ehales a sound to put it out of his mind as nonsense, but maybe that look in his eye says he'd be okay learning that poetery no matter what sort of a stink he might make about it. "Ah yes, Signora Arabella, Signora Gatto. I've heard of this one, she presumes to enjoy our gardens." Okay, they're limited publics, she's from a Great House, its shared, but Albrici has the window viewing. His hand is tempted to see if those feet are ticklish though. "Another invitation, some Signore to ponder this pastoral poetry?" Allieterate much Raffiano, maybe since he's teasing he can do that.
There is a window seat in the salon overlooking the garden (the Giardini di Fiorini). She was comfortable there, he's taken over a little space, there seems a slight contest of how much little space he should have. Her feet on his thigh as a footstool seems to keep him on his side, the small side. The two in amiable conversation it would seem.
It's into this pleasant little scene that Valentina walks, looking like she might just be dragging part of the gardens with her in the form of dirt on her clothes, and a little hint of mud on her boots. Hopefully mud. She smells like a stable, and has the flushed look of someone that has already spent a great many hours outside moving around.

To put it politely….she's dirt, grimy and could pass for a servant if someone didn't know any better. But the state of her grime doesn't dim the cheerful air that she's surrounded herself with, one almost smugly pleased smile curling the corner of her mouth upwards.
"And now I have to wonder if you are simply humouring me," Giuliana says, giving her brother a bit of a dig with her toes. Lucky for him that they're encased in finely embroidered silk slippers — slippers that he'll have to wrest from her feet if there's tickling to be had. "Or are you? I can never tell, though I know that you like to write poetry of your own. Perhaps there is one in here that I might read to you!" Enthusiasm for a potential captive audience shows in Giuliana's voice as she releases her arms from where they're anchored, enough that she can fish her book from her lap, open it and begin to flip through its pages. She continues to talk as she does. "A signore? No. It is Chiara. I believe that you met her once? I am dining with her and her family." And then there's a Valentina walking in, and her attention is immediately diverted in the direction of her older sister. "Hello Valentina. You looked pleased with yourself, but be careful of the furniture. It got the better of Raffiano, and is quite vicious today."

A chuckle from Raffiano, "Ah, you can never tell, I'm full of mystery with the right level of mischievous." His thigh takes the dig, and he reaches to grab an ankle, with that threat, he could pull off said slipper with other foot. "I am serious, I think I should learn to write." More than he can, "The world would benefit from my genius. You should read me your favorite, so I know what business you're up to when you're being devillish yourself." Teasing accusations at least. "Ah, Chiara," he says, as if wistfully dreaming of her, whether or not he really is. "Yes, I could never forget … who was it again, Chiaria?" A grin, then he gets the scent along with Giuliana, "Yes mind the furniture, though I fear it may back away from the likes of you." Another chuckle, "How dare you by the way. Out doing something fun and not inviting me!" He has no clue what Valentina has been up to, but sure a plot is a foot and he was not included.
"Got the best of him?" Valentina wonders, her brows shifting upwards before she comes to a stop near where they both are sitting, mindful to not make too big of a mess. Mostly. "Now that sounds like a story that is just waiting to be told, and I'm going to follow up on my curiosity." She then lifts a single finger, "In one moment, though…because I have to agree with myself that I am very pleased with myself, and it is directly related to the fun I'm not inviting Raffiano to…It's just a new horse that we've been working with, she's finally taking to the saddle without trying to dump them off like it was trying to eat her."
Giuliana flips her book over in her hands, and swats the side of Raffiano's shoulder with it. "Yes. Chiara." Her laugh bubbles when he traps her ankle within the circumferance of his fingers, and she curls her toes in her slipper in anticipation of him winkling her foot from it. "Leave my slipper alone! Beast! And yes, Valentina. Got the best of him. He was hopping around the room and hollering fit to bring the roof down on her heads because he stubbed one of his toes." Beat. "Imagine how much fuss he would make had he fallen from your horse! What sort is it? It sounds spirited, so a thoroughbred, perhaps? Was it a gift?" With her attention diverted, the questions flow. "Are you stabling it here, or at the city stables? Perhaps we could all go riding. A hunt?"

"I am," concurs Raffiano, about being a beast. "It is like breaking a horse, wresting a slipper from a strugglign foot. I am adept in this artform." He will try to pull it off. Even if her toes manage, its a game worth playing. Could well be a handy skill to learn comt to think of it. "Oh, you two would never hear the end of it, if I did fall from this beast. But good news, sister Valentina has tamed this creature." A pause in trying to wrangle toes, he does perk up more. "Oh, a hunt says you two. See, now here is a pursuit worth," a blink, a look out the window, "Pursuing." An accusing look at Giuliana, "What word does your book use for this, what treasure is worth just enjoying the pursuit?" A brow waggle, then a look back to Valentina, "We should celebrate the victory nonetheless, the beast is tamed, you are the victor, what spoils are your want?"
"Oh, she's not mine…she'll be the families." Valentina shakes her head at that, "Or a gift if Nicolo chooses, for someone else. I'm still managing to ride the same old nag I've had forever." Which, is a bit of an embellishment since it is neither old nor a hag, and is only used for military type things. She slants an amused look towards Raffiano though, then pointedly down towards his feet, "You were jumping around because of a stubbed toe?" She shakes her head faintly before she winks at Giuliana, "A hunt would be fine, although we should perhaps leave Raffiano behind so that he does not fall off a horse."
Giuliana squeaks a little as she feels her slipper eased enough that it parts from her heel. This is probably a victory that Raffiano will hold over her, though she continues to scrunch her toes tightly to stave her defeat for as long as is possible. "Yes. His squeals might… scare off our prey…" Giuiliana manages, her words stalling as her slipper slips further. "And something as simple as a smile Raffiano. That is always worth the pursuit. Or had you loftier hopes? A slipper, perhaps? Or perhaps not a slipper, but something far nobler. Didn't father once say that it is better to die in pursuit of your dreams than to live a life without hope? What do you hope for Raffiano, besides my slipper?"

"What, leave me from a hunt, I sense that I am being challenged to a race now," hoserback that is. Raffiano grins, "I'll take any comers, from the north bridge out, to the twisted olive tree and back." As if that was a common landmark. Maybe it is, maybe only in Raffiano's world to give him an advantage. "Though I might scare off the prey, Giuliana is correct. I shall conduct my own hunting party in that case. We shall see who returns with prize fit for a feast." He'll continue with the slipper, but if enough foot shows, his fingers will dance down to that exposed area. "Smiles are a good pursuit, just ahead of a good hart." He means that pun, as their on about hunting. "I am after a smile sister. What better joy today than a smile. It is my dream, I hope to puruse it." Though they've been smiling. He chuckles again. Then a pause, he ponders, "What of you Valentina, do you intend to visit these Sebastino's for their feast, or will I present as Albrici all by my lonesome?"
"You could try kicking him in the face. I recall that being effective." Valentina faux-whispers to Giuliana before she turns her attention towards Raffiano, "What feast?" She has the sort of bewildered look of someone that has failed at their noble duties and missed social niceties a few too many times.
Oh. Oh. Oh. Raffiano's fingers worm their way between slipper and sole, and Giuliana's subjected to the indignity of a foot tickle. "Augh! Get off!" Her voice is imperious, but the severity of her tone is diminished by the giggle and squirm that follows. And boy can she squirm. "Stop! Stop, Raffiano! Or I shall pry as to the name of the person's smile that you wish to hunt, and follow it up with the suggestion that Valentina just made!" Her eyes squinch, and her cheeks start to colour, and she twists where she sits as she attempts to reclaim her foot from her brother. But that's not to say that she can't still converse. "Tis this Friday, Valentina. I cannot go, but you honestly should if you can. If only that Raffiano has a lday on his arm to walk in with."

A pause, he listens, one more tickle for measure then he lets the foot go. "Alas," he grins, "You win, you win." Raffiano folks hands sort of into his own lap, given space for her feet to rest without being too threatening with another tickle. "Precisely, how horrid would it be if I went alone and no fair signora wanted to dance with me." He sighs, not really thinking he'll be sitting in a corner so much. "I should be the joke of Albrici in that case. It simply won't do." Half a grin more to his already half a grin (75 percent grin?). "Ah, see, Signora Valentina, you are being voluntered. To keep me in line, a Chaperone least I endanger our reputation. Hopefuly you will be free this friday then?"
"If all he has is to bring me, then he's already lost the battle of bringing a fair companion to the dinner." Valentina replies with a laugh, a hand absently smacking against her clothes to cause a plume of dirt to dance in the air around her, "But fine, if you are both so very insistant, I will join you. And then give you up to the first fair Signora that wants a dance."
Giuliana swivels where she sits, dropping her feet, with slippers in place, back to the floor. "There. All is settled then. Valentina will accompany you, and if Nicolo tries to wriggle from his duty of likewise attending, then you must drag him from his work and insist that he does." With the flat of one hand atop her book to prevent it from falling to the floor, she slides the other behind her neck, drawing her hair forwards with its return so that it falls neatly in front of her shoulder. A lean then to one side — the side that Raffiano is on — so that the lightest of kisses might be pressed to his cheek. "I am going to make good my escape whilst my feet are still my own, and you must both let me know when we're riding out. Either race or hunt, either is good."

"See, all is well in the home today," grins Raffiano, he gladly accepts the kiss, "I am blessed to have such wonderful siblings." A slight chuckle, his visit with Giuliana was enjoyed it would seem, even if she's taking her book with her. If she turns, she might bet a press of his lips to her forehead, the adoring family sort. "Do not forget, you owe me one poem and a lesson in reading." He needs help with bigger words. "BUt I suppose if you must escape. I'll be certain to let you know when the race will be held. This is serious business, to find which of us is the best rider." A beat, "And hunter. But I shall make my own company, who do not make light of the sounds I shall make for falling on my rump." Thoughts filter as he turns more to Valentina, then chuckles, "It shall be the most delightly three minutes of your time at the feast, finding me that dance partner."
"I'll let you know." Valentina promises, offering her sister a smile before she turns back to Raffiano, laughing, "Right…no. They will simply flock to you, and I will make my own escape to stand in the shadows where no one will drag me out to dance."
Giuliana gives a nod to Raffiano's request of her. "Of course. Perhaps tomorrow if the weather is clement, we might take the book with us to the Giardini di Fiorini, along with a bottle of wine and some fruits. It'd suit the themes of the poems to have them read outdoors rather than in." A heavy breath is drawn at the further mention of the dinner, and it's exhalement could well be mistaken for a sigh, possibly at the fun she'll be missing. "Be well Valentina. Raffiano. Hopefully you will be quite recovered from the stubbing of your toe that you will not dance with two left feet come Friday." She can't quite resist that last little tease of her brother, and her smile is bright and her feet are light as she turns and heads for her chambers.

"Alas, I am wounded for the day, I shall barely recover to go out for the evening," more playful really, he's prefectly fine now. "Be well Giuliana, I shall look plan to attend your compan inthe garden tomorrow. You've enticed my senses, with wine. Your trickery is noted, and appreciated." All in good sport, the inhale noted as he looks to her, then back to Valentina. "Throwing me to the wolves is it. Just remember, you did promise a pretty wolf. No dames or dowagers, someone my age, please." As if he can imagine all too well how his sister could fulfil the idea of giving him to the first eligible daughter. Either someone far too old or young, he had to make stipulations now before he was doomed.
"Your age? Most are married with a dozen children by your age." Valentina points out, which is fairly humorous given her own age. She moves to find herself a place to sit, dirt and mud be damned, "But I will at least only allow attractive ones to throw themselves at you, how about that?"
Giuliana has left.

Raffiano doesn't mind the dirt, only unless he is going to tease about it. He lounged back more in his seat with Giuliana out of the proverbial picture. "See, you understand me know. This is why you're the perfect chaperone." Said with the gusto of one not interesting in chaperones, unless to escape them. At his age, he's prbably likely to be assigned as such if it came down to it. "So, this horse, it is a new gift to the family? Are you saying someone is after Nicolo's eyes, by virtue of such a fine gift?"
"Oh, no gift to the family." Valentina shakes her head, stretching her legs out, "Simply will be available for the use of those that need a horse, unless he chooses to make it a gift to someone. She's a young filly, so once fully broke will have a pleasant temperment for a child or a young lady."

"Is it that you enjoy working with the new horses, or perhaps you've taken a liking to this one?" He's suspecting the former, but just beign curious. Lounging back, he lifts one leg, puts ankle to his knee. "I mean, some folks simply enjoy the mud, but you took great pleasure in this. I spent half the morning wondering if I should return home after an extremely late night. I am assessing the difference to see where I may be lacking, self judgement sort of a thing." No, he's just being nosey.
"Mmm….working with the new horses, making sure they are going to serve their purposes. It's the best I can do until it comes time to march off to war again." Valentina replies with no small amount of amusement crossing her face, "So what is it that you are finding is lacking….or are we just entertaining ourselves with the mental exercises?"

A pause, then a grin and a chuckle follow suit, one after the other in succesion, from Raffiano. "Oh, we're entertaining ourselves. A shame, you say through the ploy, it leaves me lacking for questions now. What were we talking about again?" Half teasing in there, "Right, a horse race was it. You proclaim to be the better, Giuliana is throwing her shield onto the lists. You and this newly trained horse, us with our choice from the stables?"
"The new horse? Very well." Valentina replies after a moment before she pushes herself up to her feet with a sigh, "However, I'm beginning to smell myself, and I think that I need to go change out of these clothes."

"Good, see, I wasn't going to say it, but its out there, yes, something of a smell," he doesn't mind. Raffiano would probably rather be outside conducting some adventure or finding some misfortune to fall into. "I must retire to the stables sometime today get in some riding now, be well sister." He starts his own slow push up, but doesn't get to the up part all too fast.
"You as well. Hope that your toe feels better." Valentina replies, flashing a quick smile before she is heading off to get rid of the stable smell….at least until the next time.

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