And have you start acting like Al whenever he needs to stay inside because it’s storming?
[Events that, even if he’d end up like a drowned rat or struck by lightning, still drove the blond stir crazy and gave all of them (but mostly Ciro) a lot to deal with. Stopping to look back at Faustino to make sure the youth was okay, Lancia tried to make his voice relaxed and light.]
Anyway, better to spend it on you than some other things, right?
[Though the comparison made him chuckle all the same, breezing past the older man when he stopped to look at him. He reached the house first, entering it and leaving the door open carelessly for Lancia to follow. The forced lightness of his voice made him laugh fully, his face wholly amused.]
My, my, you're making me sound like an expensive call girl. You know I'd never charge you, egregio signore.
[The way Faustino walked past, combined with those words, made Lancia laugh a little more, and he followed after him although he, at least, made sure to close the door behind them.]
[Said breezily as Faustino walked down the hall. He had not laid eyes on Al and Ciro himself for quite some time, and while he had numerous eyes and ears everywhere, there were a few people that he would grace with his own presence.
[He can guess what has Faustino’s interest so strongly, but Lancia doesn’t mention it. Sometimes, he thinks the boy- no, young man now, right?- is hilariously shy when it comes to admitting his true emotions for all his confidence elsewhere. Instead, he smiles back at him.]
Good to know- I don’t have to worry about you going to strange people’s houses in the middle of the night. At least not for that.
My, my, I wasn't aware that was a concern of yours. But know this: I am sure to charge appropriately.
[Because if there was anything Faustino knew about the mafia, it was this: that most members were depraved beyond repair, and were thus not worthy of living. More than one assassination had been done by Faustino simply allowing himself to be invited home with someone. His physical age made most believe he was inexperienced and incapable of defending himself, a mistake most never lived to regret.
Besides, between he, Al, and Ciro, there were little boundaries. Perhaps it was best not to mention that, however.]
Should we part here?
[He paused outside of the room where he could hear Al's loud shouting and Ciro's quieter tones, turning to look fully at Lancia.]
Seems like a good a place as any. Besides, I’m sure the two of them will want to have you all to themselves.
[Al has never hidden how much he drinks up Faustino’s attention and, Lancia suspects, Ciro is similar, but just a lot more subtler. Best not get in the way. For a second, he considers putting his hand to Faustino’s hair again, before he decides against it. Best not let the other think he’s still being treated as a child. So he goes instead for a simple pat on his back before he starts to head down the hall.]
[Though Faustino had promised to stick around for at least two weeks, that didn't mean that he would stay cooped inside the estate for the entire time. While there were times he liked to laze around all day and eat parfaits, those days were few and far between, and he tended to get restless after even a few hours of downtime. It might be the product of having his fight or flight responses experimented on beyond all repair, or it could just be his distaste for doing nothing when there was always something he could be doing.
Such as his Abandonato project. The Abandonato family was rumored to be conducting inhumane experiments, and while Faustino would never consider himself an avenging angel of justice, there were a few things he abhorred and would destroy into dust.
Of course, he couldn't trust any other mafioso to look into it, so he had taken it upon himself to do so. He had hoped to spare Al and Ciro the unpleasantness by going in himself, only bothering to tell M.M. as a fail safe. Though, he thought dispassionately after he had woken up in a cell, unable to escape due to some mechanism, perhaps he should have attached money to that bit of information. While whatever barrier kept him encased in the room was effective, it didn't drown out the screams and cries of those around him. Even after all this time, it struck him to the bone, down to the very marrow. He had never expected to be in this position again, not after winning his freedom once.
And yet...
He forced himself to be calm, to get up and pace the length of his cell to try to find any means of escape. He wasn't a child anymore, so he wouldn't curl up into a ball, hands clamped tightly over his ears, rocking himself in some facsimile of self-comfort. Whoever opened that door would get the full brunt of his wrath, as well as everyone else in this building.
It was difficult to tell how much time had passed without a window, but Faustino's internal clock was normally fairly accurate. A few days had gone by before they came for him, hoping that lack of food and water would have weakened him. He only managed to kill ten guards before they sedated him and he woke up on a cold slab, watching dispassionately as they ran tests on his eye, tearing it out over and over again to study his fourth realm.
Humans. There was a reason he detested them above all else.]
[It’s Ciro who gets the call, and Ciro who comes to him, pale and shaking and a hairs trigger from snapping into a bad decision. Lancia can tell something wrong just by looking the boy in the eyes. They’re far off, distant, a clear sign of when his mind is somewhere else because to come back would be too overwhelming. It’s something that hasn’t happened in a long time, so to see it after so long… It makes him straighten up immediately.]
[And that’s before Ciro tells him what’s got him so shaken up.]
[He verifies the information from the caller- M.M., he remembers Faustino mentioning her- and has to force himself not to go charging out as rage swells inside his chest. Ciro must be feeling the same; he knows his charge. While the tall dark-haired youth seems like the calmest, he can be just as rash…. Especially concerning Faustino and Al.]
[It’s the latter that helps him from doing anything stupid himself. Lancia has to physically force the blond down onto the floor as he snarls and gouges claw marks into the wood. That, too, hasn’t happened in a while- Al tearing up his arm like he was a cornered animal. Once he’s sure they both won’t run off and do something stupid, and his arm is patched up, Lancia goes to the don.]
[Hours pass before they decide on a course of action. A significant mobilization of their men might tip off the Abandonato family that they were coming for them, that they knew who was responsible for Faustino’s absence. What they need is first to find out where the Abandonato have taken him, and then send a small group in to raise hell and get him back.]
[It’s not even a question of who goes.]
[Ciro’s intelligence and Al’s ability to track are godsends as they search down Faustino and, by extension, the Abandonato. It’s a tense couple of days that all three of them feel- and Lancia would be blind if he didn’t acknowledge that Ciro and Al are feeling it the most. It’s like a decade back, with two scared angry children whose eyes had seen more than some mafioso. Al especially is volatile, and Lancia knows that if Ciro would go anywhere it’d be with him besides. When they finally find the place that the scumbags have hidden in, it’s a relief.]
[That’s the hardest part, done.]
[A few days is plenty of time to have come up with a plan by that point. It’s simple, in theory- Al takes care of all the perimeter guards, and Lancia keeps Ciro safe as he utilizes every bit of stealth he knows to get them to the security center. One more thing to the list of what he hasn’t had to do in ages…. Stealth. He’s muscle, when it comes down to it, and Lancia has never deluded himself on that fact. But it’s easy when following Ciro’s feet, and snapping necks is easy in Lancia’s hands. He can toss aside wrecking balls like they’re children’s playthings; it’s not hard.]
[With Ciro in place to make sure that the alarm isn’t raised, and Al still tearing through the throats of those outside and circling in like a whirlpool, Lancia is on his own as he ventures into the darker parts of the Abandonato base. To put it plainly, he’s seen some shit in his time as part of the Family. The underworld can get dark. Yet there’s still something that burns like acid on the back of his tongue as he goes through the halls which echo with screams and cries. Something that burns through his veins when he thinks about Faustino being trapped in a place like this.]
[Finding the exact place where Faustino is take time, and Lancia has to bite down on the inside of his mouth when he finds the scene. It’s a good thing, then, that it doesn’t seem like they’re doing any delicate work at that point. Quiet and making sure he can’t be seen too easily from inside the surgery room proper, he raps his knuckles on the door like just another check up.]
[The person who comes to answer isn’t expecting to have their head crunching into the wall.]
[He’s always prided himself on his expertise in hand-to-hand, and that means being fast as hell. It comes in handy, close quarters like this, when he has to take out multiple people before they can even think of laying a hand on Faustino again. And Lancia doesn’t even try to be gentle.]
[One of Faustino's earliest memories, one that was his and his alone, was being curled up in a corner praying for someone to save him. Many times, he had concocted fantasies where someone saved him from his torment, where he would somehow be spared from what was happening around him. In time, he began to realize such a wish would never be fulfilled, and his fierce independence and rage had been born then. There was no one in this world that he could rely on but himself, and there was no one else who could change his fate but himself.
He had thought ill of people who cried out for someone, anyone to save them, even with their dying breaths. He had scorned those who had huddled close to one another, like a bare amount of extra warmth would make their miserable existences better. he had scoffed at those who had extolled the virtues of family, who had gone like sheep to slaughter because it would bring their family to greatness again.
But seeing Lancia burst through the door and dispatch of his torturers so easily, knowing that Al and Ciro were nearby, made him want to rethink his negative associations with the word 'Family'. He watched, transfixed, if only because the Abandonato scientists had torn off the eyelid of his red eye to help make it easy to tear out his eye. It must have been an odd sight, to see the rest of his body so pristine but his face bloodied and scraped beyond all repair.]
My hero.
[It came out far weaker and far more sincere than Faustino would have liked. He tugged weakly against his restraints, unsure if he had been drugged or if perhaps his tolerance for pain had lessened while he had been enjoying the benefits of having a family.]
[While he’s not the most dedicated Catholic, Lancia still isn’t usually one to blaspheme. Probably just something that happens when you grow up in Italy and share its blood. Too many old ladies sending disapproving stern glares when you said that thing as a kid, and the secondhand guilt just sticks.]
[But it’s what escapes his mouth as he finally gets a real look at Faustino, sees what they’ve done to him. It could be worse- somehow. He knows that. But it’s hard to really think about that, and he takes a step closer to the table. His hands are bloody but, with Faustino as he is, he doesn’t think he’ll get any complaints this time as he smooths his fingers over his hair.]
Just relax, alright…? Al is taking care of anyone outside, and Ciro is going to be here in a few minutes. He’ll get you fixed up.
[Hopefully, anyway, and Lancia starts to work on the restraints.]
[It must be awful if Lancia was taking the lord's name, and though Faustino would like to comfort himself with the fact it was mostly Lancia's sentimentality talking, it hurt. For someone who controlled their body like it was a tool instead of an actual home to inhabit, to feel that pain was a bad sign. It might be as bad as Lancia implied, and he grit his teeth ( feeling the skin pull every which way ) as Lancia put his fingers through his hair. It was supposed to be a soothing gesture, he knew, but it hurt, and he didn't even have the luxury of being able to swat that hand away if he wanted to.
The mention of Ciro coming in to see him like this had him turning to Lancia, teeth bared like he was Al, like he was some feral animal.]
Do not let them in.
[It may be vanity on his part, but he didn't want them to see him like this. Beaten and bloodied, tortured and weak. It would only bring up old memories that were best forgotten, and this was Faustino's nightmare alone to bear. He could only imagine how they had reacted to M.M.'s phone call, if Lancia's arms were a testament to it.
He turned his gaze around the room, trying to collect himself, to pull back some measure of control.]
Get me out of the room and I will be fine.
[He would be able to scrape together a convincing enough illusion, he hoped, to look better than he did.]
[Faustino’s reaction, vicious and cornered and- not proud, not entirely, but stubborn- is of no surprise. The whole story of what the three of them have gone through isn’t something he knows. All he has is what he’s been able to gleam from simply having been their caretaker for so many years, and what the much more loose-lipped Al. Even that was abridged, shortened, their secrets theirs alone. With that in mind… he understands Faustino’s feelings.]
[Seeing this will devastate them.]
[Yet even as he understands, as he removes the restraints on his legs, he shakes his head.]
You went into this alone…. And now look at the situation. They’ve already found out about this. It’ll hurt like hell, but better with it all at once, instead of tearing at the wound later again.
[It was more of an accusation than anything else, a feeble defense against what Lancia was saying. Even now, with his legs freed, he could barely move them. Having Ciro look at his wounds wasn't the worst fate he could have, but being in this place was already painful enough. He could only imagine Al and Ciro's faces if they saw him like this.]
They've been through enough. Don't make them go through more to teach me a lesson.
[Because that's what it would be to him, a punishment for his failure.]
[Wrists now, and he has to fight the urge to shut his eyes and bow his head. Ciro must be halfway across the place by now- there’s not much time left to debate this.]
….Do you think they won’t realize what you’re doing?
[The question made him laugh, a rough sound that scraped against his worn out throat. Despite what many may think, Al and Ciro knew him as well as anyone could. Once his wrists were free, he shakily propped himself up on his elbow. If his body was anyone else's that small movement would have been too much, but luckily unlike most human beings, his body seemed to be powered by willpower and spite alone instead of air or blood.]
Do you think one more secret will matter to them?
[It wasn't as if Faustino had ever been or would be a forthcoming guy.
Still, he knew what he had to do if he was to get what he wanted, and while he was loathe to do so, Lancia had already seen him in this sorry state.]
Please.
[It was barely a whisper, his face turned away. He wouldn't say it again.]
[....He can’t deny him when he’s in such a sorry state that he’ll actually ask that. Lancia’s shoulders slump, even as he carefully lays his hands on the younger man. He thinks this is a mistake, that Faustino will very likely be wrong about what Ciro and Al will think, what they’ll do… But he’s an adult. And part of being an adult is dealing with the consequences of their actions.]
[In this case, it’s all about keeping secrets and hiding the truth.]
[Outside the room, he can hear the sound of feet pounding against the floor, and Lancia looks over his shoulder to call out.]
Ciro! Wait right there, understand?
[Reluctance is in every slowing step, and Lancia can hear Ciro’s uncertainty even though it’s dead silent. It’s going to be difficult to talk with him about this, but… Gently, he starts to pick Faustino up to cradle in his arms. He’s in no state to walk around right now.]
[Even though he was getting exactly what he wanted, it didn't feel like a victory at all. For all the painstaking steps he had taken in order to be seen as an adult and being taken seriously, this had undoubtedly landed him back to square one. He let out an exhale of relief when he heard Ciro's footsteps slow to a stop outside of the door. He didn't need to see the other boy to feel his worry and confusion and anxiousness.
Steeling himself, he started to recreate his face, layer by layer of skin at a time, the work shoddy by his standards, but even most illusionists wouldn't be able to sense it. Still, for someone who knew his face as well as Al and Ciro, it would be noticeable. To think he had decried other illusionists for their vanity, and yet here he was doing the same, if not worse.
He couldn't even allow himself to enjoy being scooped up ( though a proper illusionist would always take note of the texture of someone's skin, their scent, and their musculature ), scowling slightly.]
I can walk.
[But he didn't exactly struggle, focusing on smoothing out the illusion of his face, leaving the bruising and some of the blood to make it somewhat believable.]
You're stubborn enough to walk on shattered kneecaps- that isn't saying much.
[All too aware of Ciro's presence anxiously waiting outside, Lancia at least keeps his voice low. Besides, Faustino is already using up more of his energy than he can say he really like by hiding his injuries with an appearance. The least that can be allowed is that he carries him back to their vehicle.]
[Once it's clear that Faustino has finished, Lancia finally takes him out into the hallway. Ciro is exactly as he looked when Lancia left the younger man to watch the security station: paler than a ghost, eyes dark as pits, and quietly shaking against all his best control. He's at Lancia's side in a second, murmuring Faustino's name and only barely resisting the urge to touch. But then again, maybe that's because Lancia speaks up then, dissuading him.]
Not now, Ciro. Go get the car started up, and check in on Al. Alright?
[A mute nod as he still levels a worried gaze over Faustino- and then there's a click in his eyes. A realization. Lancia can guess what it is that has his lips thinning, brow furrowing, but... To his credit, Ciro says nothing. Not right then. He simply nods, and hurries away to do as he's told.]
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
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[Events that, even if he’d end up like a drowned rat or struck by lightning, still drove the blond stir crazy and gave all of them (but mostly Ciro) a lot to deal with. Stopping to look back at Faustino to make sure the youth was okay, Lancia tried to make his voice relaxed and light.]
Anyway, better to spend it on you than some other things, right?
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[Though the comparison made him chuckle all the same, breezing past the older man when he stopped to look at him. He reached the house first, entering it and leaving the door open carelessly for Lancia to follow. The forced lightness of his voice made him laugh fully, his face wholly amused.]
My, my, you're making me sound like an expensive call girl. You know I'd never charge you, egregio signore.
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Do you tell that to everyone?
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[Said breezily as Faustino walked down the hall. He had not laid eyes on Al and Ciro himself for quite some time, and while he had numerous eyes and ears everywhere, there were a few people that he would grace with his own presence.
He glanced over his shoulder, smirking.]
Rest assured, you're special.
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Good to know- I don’t have to worry about you going to strange people’s houses in the middle of the night. At least not for that.
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[Because if there was anything Faustino knew about the mafia, it was this: that most members were depraved beyond repair, and were thus not worthy of living. More than one assassination had been done by Faustino simply allowing himself to be invited home with someone. His physical age made most believe he was inexperienced and incapable of defending himself, a mistake most never lived to regret.
Besides, between he, Al, and Ciro, there were little boundaries. Perhaps it was best not to mention that, however.]
Should we part here?
[He paused outside of the room where he could hear Al's loud shouting and Ciro's quieter tones, turning to look fully at Lancia.]
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[Al has never hidden how much he drinks up Faustino’s attention and, Lancia suspects, Ciro is similar, but just a lot more subtler. Best not get in the way. For a second, he considers putting his hand to Faustino’s hair again, before he decides against it. Best not let the other think he’s still being treated as a child. So he goes instead for a simple pat on his back before he starts to head down the hall.]
Take care, Faustino.
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Such as his Abandonato project. The Abandonato family was rumored to be conducting inhumane experiments, and while Faustino would never consider himself an avenging angel of justice, there were a few things he abhorred and would destroy into dust.
Of course, he couldn't trust any other mafioso to look into it, so he had taken it upon himself to do so. He had hoped to spare Al and Ciro the unpleasantness by going in himself, only bothering to tell M.M. as a fail safe. Though, he thought dispassionately after he had woken up in a cell, unable to escape due to some mechanism, perhaps he should have attached money to that bit of information. While whatever barrier kept him encased in the room was effective, it didn't drown out the screams and cries of those around him. Even after all this time, it struck him to the bone, down to the very marrow. He had never expected to be in this position again, not after winning his freedom once.
And yet...
He forced himself to be calm, to get up and pace the length of his cell to try to find any means of escape. He wasn't a child anymore, so he wouldn't curl up into a ball, hands clamped tightly over his ears, rocking himself in some facsimile of self-comfort. Whoever opened that door would get the full brunt of his wrath, as well as everyone else in this building.
It was difficult to tell how much time had passed without a window, but Faustino's internal clock was normally fairly accurate. A few days had gone by before they came for him, hoping that lack of food and water would have weakened him. He only managed to kill ten guards before they sedated him and he woke up on a cold slab, watching dispassionately as they ran tests on his eye, tearing it out over and over again to study his fourth realm.
Humans. There was a reason he detested them above all else.]
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[And that’s before Ciro tells him what’s got him so shaken up.]
[He verifies the information from the caller- M.M., he remembers Faustino mentioning her- and has to force himself not to go charging out as rage swells inside his chest. Ciro must be feeling the same; he knows his charge. While the tall dark-haired youth seems like the calmest, he can be just as rash…. Especially concerning Faustino and Al.]
[It’s the latter that helps him from doing anything stupid himself. Lancia has to physically force the blond down onto the floor as he snarls and gouges claw marks into the wood. That, too, hasn’t happened in a while- Al tearing up his arm like he was a cornered animal. Once he’s sure they both won’t run off and do something stupid, and his arm is patched up, Lancia goes to the don.]
[Hours pass before they decide on a course of action. A significant mobilization of their men might tip off the Abandonato family that they were coming for them, that they knew who was responsible for Faustino’s absence. What they need is first to find out where the Abandonato have taken him, and then send a small group in to raise hell and get him back.]
[It’s not even a question of who goes.]
[Ciro’s intelligence and Al’s ability to track are godsends as they search down Faustino and, by extension, the Abandonato. It’s a tense couple of days that all three of them feel- and Lancia would be blind if he didn’t acknowledge that Ciro and Al are feeling it the most. It’s like a decade back, with two scared angry children whose eyes had seen more than some mafioso. Al especially is volatile, and Lancia knows that if Ciro would go anywhere it’d be with him besides. When they finally find the place that the scumbags have hidden in, it’s a relief.]
[That’s the hardest part, done.]
[A few days is plenty of time to have come up with a plan by that point. It’s simple, in theory- Al takes care of all the perimeter guards, and Lancia keeps Ciro safe as he utilizes every bit of stealth he knows to get them to the security center. One more thing to the list of what he hasn’t had to do in ages…. Stealth. He’s muscle, when it comes down to it, and Lancia has never deluded himself on that fact. But it’s easy when following Ciro’s feet, and snapping necks is easy in Lancia’s hands. He can toss aside wrecking balls like they’re children’s playthings; it’s not hard.]
[With Ciro in place to make sure that the alarm isn’t raised, and Al still tearing through the throats of those outside and circling in like a whirlpool, Lancia is on his own as he ventures into the darker parts of the Abandonato base. To put it plainly, he’s seen some shit in his time as part of the Family. The underworld can get dark. Yet there’s still something that burns like acid on the back of his tongue as he goes through the halls which echo with screams and cries. Something that burns through his veins when he thinks about Faustino being trapped in a place like this.]
[Finding the exact place where Faustino is take time, and Lancia has to bite down on the inside of his mouth when he finds the scene. It’s a good thing, then, that it doesn’t seem like they’re doing any delicate work at that point. Quiet and making sure he can’t be seen too easily from inside the surgery room proper, he raps his knuckles on the door like just another check up.]
[The person who comes to answer isn’t expecting to have their head crunching into the wall.]
[He’s always prided himself on his expertise in hand-to-hand, and that means being fast as hell. It comes in handy, close quarters like this, when he has to take out multiple people before they can even think of laying a hand on Faustino again. And Lancia doesn’t even try to be gentle.]
no subject
He had thought ill of people who cried out for someone, anyone to save them, even with their dying breaths. He had scorned those who had huddled close to one another, like a bare amount of extra warmth would make their miserable existences better. he had scoffed at those who had extolled the virtues of family, who had gone like sheep to slaughter because it would bring their family to greatness again.
But seeing Lancia burst through the door and dispatch of his torturers so easily, knowing that Al and Ciro were nearby, made him want to rethink his negative associations with the word 'Family'. He watched, transfixed, if only because the Abandonato scientists had torn off the eyelid of his red eye to help make it easy to tear out his eye. It must have been an odd sight, to see the rest of his body so pristine but his face bloodied and scraped beyond all repair.]
My hero.
[It came out far weaker and far more sincere than Faustino would have liked. He tugged weakly against his restraints, unsure if he had been drugged or if perhaps his tolerance for pain had lessened while he had been enjoying the benefits of having a family.]
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[While he’s not the most dedicated Catholic, Lancia still isn’t usually one to blaspheme. Probably just something that happens when you grow up in Italy and share its blood. Too many old ladies sending disapproving stern glares when you said that thing as a kid, and the secondhand guilt just sticks.]
[But it’s what escapes his mouth as he finally gets a real look at Faustino, sees what they’ve done to him. It could be worse- somehow. He knows that. But it’s hard to really think about that, and he takes a step closer to the table. His hands are bloody but, with Faustino as he is, he doesn’t think he’ll get any complaints this time as he smooths his fingers over his hair.]
Just relax, alright…? Al is taking care of anyone outside, and Ciro is going to be here in a few minutes. He’ll get you fixed up.
[Hopefully, anyway, and Lancia starts to work on the restraints.]
no subject
The mention of Ciro coming in to see him like this had him turning to Lancia, teeth bared like he was Al, like he was some feral animal.]
Do not let them in.
[It may be vanity on his part, but he didn't want them to see him like this. Beaten and bloodied, tortured and weak. It would only bring up old memories that were best forgotten, and this was Faustino's nightmare alone to bear. He could only imagine how they had reacted to M.M.'s phone call, if Lancia's arms were a testament to it.
He turned his gaze around the room, trying to collect himself, to pull back some measure of control.]
Get me out of the room and I will be fine.
[He would be able to scrape together a convincing enough illusion, he hoped, to look better than he did.]
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[Seeing this will devastate them.]
[Yet even as he understands, as he removes the restraints on his legs, he shakes his head.]
You went into this alone…. And now look at the situation. They’ve already found out about this. It’ll hurt like hell, but better with it all at once, instead of tearing at the wound later again.
Let other people be there for you, Faustino.
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[It was more of an accusation than anything else, a feeble defense against what Lancia was saying. Even now, with his legs freed, he could barely move them. Having Ciro look at his wounds wasn't the worst fate he could have, but being in this place was already painful enough. He could only imagine Al and Ciro's faces if they saw him like this.]
They've been through enough. Don't make them go through more to teach me a lesson.
[Because that's what it would be to him, a punishment for his failure.]
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….Do you think they won’t realize what you’re doing?
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Do you think one more secret will matter to them?
[It wasn't as if Faustino had ever been or would be a forthcoming guy.
Still, he knew what he had to do if he was to get what he wanted, and while he was loathe to do so, Lancia had already seen him in this sorry state.]
Please.
[It was barely a whisper, his face turned away. He wouldn't say it again.]
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[In this case, it’s all about keeping secrets and hiding the truth.]
[Outside the room, he can hear the sound of feet pounding against the floor, and Lancia looks over his shoulder to call out.]
Ciro! Wait right there, understand?
[Reluctance is in every slowing step, and Lancia can hear Ciro’s uncertainty even though it’s dead silent. It’s going to be difficult to talk with him about this, but… Gently, he starts to pick Faustino up to cradle in his arms. He’s in no state to walk around right now.]
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Steeling himself, he started to recreate his face, layer by layer of skin at a time, the work shoddy by his standards, but even most illusionists wouldn't be able to sense it. Still, for someone who knew his face as well as Al and Ciro, it would be noticeable. To think he had decried other illusionists for their vanity, and yet here he was doing the same, if not worse.
He couldn't even allow himself to enjoy being scooped up ( though a proper illusionist would always take note of the texture of someone's skin, their scent, and their musculature ), scowling slightly.]
I can walk.
[But he didn't exactly struggle, focusing on smoothing out the illusion of his face, leaving the bruising and some of the blood to make it somewhat believable.]
end scene??
[All too aware of Ciro's presence anxiously waiting outside, Lancia at least keeps his voice low. Besides, Faustino is already using up more of his energy than he can say he really like by hiding his injuries with an appearance. The least that can be allowed is that he carries him back to their vehicle.]
[Once it's clear that Faustino has finished, Lancia finally takes him out into the hallway. Ciro is exactly as he looked when Lancia left the younger man to watch the security station: paler than a ghost, eyes dark as pits, and quietly shaking against all his best control. He's at Lancia's side in a second, murmuring Faustino's name and only barely resisting the urge to touch. But then again, maybe that's because Lancia speaks up then, dissuading him.]
Not now, Ciro. Go get the car started up, and check in on Al. Alright?
[A mute nod as he still levels a worried gaze over Faustino- and then there's a click in his eyes. A realization. Lancia can guess what it is that has his lips thinning, brow furrowing, but... To his credit, Ciro says nothing. Not right then. He simply nods, and hurries away to do as he's told.]
[It's going to be a hell of a drive back home.]