Giovanni & Matteo [Secondary Training]

The evening skies were their usual oranges and blues, and the sun was young and brilliant in its roundness, resting on the horizon. But everything seemed otherworldly in the private town of Ace of Spades. Horizons were wider and the skies' blues were deeper and more saturated. The silhouettes of buildings overwhelmed those who'd offer a glance with a feeling of home and inner peace. It was nothing like the cold, barren wasteland that was Mt. Hakobe or Morgate Town, where its embrace was far more detrimental.

But not even a privatized town could keep Giovanni Tesoro at bay, for his shiny loafers found themselves tapping against the very stone pavement meant for the feet of the townspeople. He walked the streets, not in his normal, glamorous attire, but in a white trench coat and black denim jeans. Perhaps the only brilliant thing about this man's appearance was his flawless skin, without blemishes, and striking azure eyes, perhaps bluer than the Calm Sea itself.

There was no particular reason behind this man's sudden appearance in The Ace of Spades, for his impulses were about as mysterious as his character, strange and without reason. He watched the townspeople go about their routine with an indifferent, mildly amused smirk. Something about venturing among the living filled this man's capsule with vigor and delight, so much so that he had become a keen people-watcher as of late. But he walked their streets with a certain sense of direction, turning sharp turns and looking which ways as if he were navigating to a particular spot. Yet no matter how many turns he'd take or paths he'd follow, his destination always seemed undetermined.

His choices, however, led him to a particularly dirtier part of town where the roads had not a single stone constructed into them and the buildings that surrounded him seemed older than the dust itself. Some of them had begun to fall apart, and although this was an obvious observation, the skinny men and women who idled by them continued to idle, handwash their clothing and rot their rotting teeth even more by puffing a cigarette thicker than their fingers.

Many of these observations almost compelled the wandering Giovanni to approach them, but instead, he grinned bitterly to himself while passing them by. He'd invite them to take shelter for service in the Tesoro Estate, but few would perhaps live to see it before their anorexia and heart problems kept them. He'd passed them all until he'd reach an alley, wide and devoid of any sunlight from the tall buildings that created it. Inside, a wavy-haired boy and two larger ones.

Giovanni stopped and stared with a curious countenance, eyes wide and lips stretched indifferently as he watched them. The dark, wavy-haired boy curled reclined against the building wall, arms and legs sprawled across the dirt path with an apparent weakness. His legs were long, and if he were to stand at full height he would easily tower over the two other boys who hunched over him. These other boys, on the other hand, were also tall, taller than Giovanni, but were skinny and would only make a lanky man if they combined into one. Compared to the supposedly defeated boy who sprawled on the ground below them, who was rather muscular, it simply did not make sense for him to be in this situation.

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The young man, despite his muscular physique, was clearly younger than a man, or young enough to be called a boy, as did his aggressors. His dirty locks and pale skin was the perfect image of a boy in the slums, for sure! His clothes didn't fit and his somehow unblemished skin was maybe the prettiest part of his appearance. His eyes were an inky black, big and droopy as if he hadn't slept for days, and with the conditions everyone here had lived in, Giovanni could believe it! This boy, however, had two distinct moles above his brow and could hardly be seen through his wavy locks.

Through the tears and rips of his clothing, bruises and abrasions could be seen. Clearly, his flesh wasn't as flawless as Giovanni had expected, but it made it clear just what was unfolding. The two boys that hovered over the downed one had clearly been attacking him prior to his noticing, and yet they remained still as if frozen. Their limbs trembled and lips quivered, eyes wide and staring fixedly at the muscular boy. Their fists were clenched and feet were but meters away from striking him, and yet they remained still, in those postures. It was quite a spectacle, and perhaps the most fascinating of it all was the muscular boy who watched them, droopy eyes falling and rising from a reluctant slumber. Was he so tired that not even a brawl could keep him awake? Well, if a brawl is what you'd call it.

The scene amazed Giovanni, who found himself stepping closer towards the alley than where he had originally been standing. His blue eyes were wide and wet with awe, a silvery smirk dancing from ear to ear. The three were about as silent as the man dressed in white himself, who could only detect the faint breaths of the boys combined and their odorous droplets of sweat that drenched their bodies. It seemed the hearts of all but the boy was tense, and it was suspiciously comical to the curious Don.

Before venturing deeper into the alley, Giovanni peered to both sides of the roadway in search of equally interested onlookers, in which he couldn't find a single soul who paid mind to these tussling boys. Which was somehow surprising to the brightly-dressed man, who was overcome with the curiosity of the spectacle. Not only that, the beauty of the downed boy compelled him to at least bid his greetings.

The very tip of his shiny loafers stepped into the shadows of the alley, and Giovanni had finally begun to approach the crowd. "You seem awfully swell considering your circumstances." the chipper man said peachily, looking at the boy who struggled to stay sober. The boy said nothing and continued to fight against the aching slumber that loomed over him.

Giovanni stepped closer, "Not much a talker, are you? Mind telling a curious man what's happened here--"

"Go away, will you? Won't you go away?" the boy interrupted with a thick, rich voice, soft and quiet. Giovanni paused and smirked widely, shocked by the boy's sudden intrusion and evermore interested in his ability to speak so clearly in the first place. His eyes were wide and narrowed with a tepid ferocity the man knew all too well. It was a look of indignancy and bitterness, of one in which the world has not treated him kindly. A boy with strength but not the strength to wield it. Yes, he was absolutely beautiful, and Giovanni began to blush.

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The older boy was most certainly physically appealing, but his toned body, milky eyes, and distinct moles above his brow wasn't the cause of the blood flushing his cheeks, but the tension in his gaze, his spirit, like a thin coat of ice over dangerous waters where even the lightest of steps could shatter its delicate balance. The older boy's dread had invigorated the curious Giovanni and could not help but prod closer to the dozing beast with elegant, heavy steps. A smile stretched across Giovanni's sharp face, yet his eyes were narrowed and had an alluring glimmer within them. He looked at the passive boy, "I can't ignore a spectacle when I see one, and you shouldn't either. Why don't we start with introductions? Im--"

Suddenly, the boy's wavering gaze broke and fixed itself onto the brightly-dressed Giovanni, whose smiles reduced to frowns and soft countenance scrunched into a quizzical one. "Ahh. . . you don't get it, mister. . ." the older boy interrupted with a drone, raising a single hand to restlessly scratch the nape of his neck. His droopy eyes suddenly became wearier, and what little light that had cast over the alley had now been swallowed in an otherworldly darkness, unlike the one that had veiled the group before. It was a darkness in which everything was as black as, maybe, the boy's eyes, and the structures and people that surrounded them before no longer seemed to exist. Giovanni could feel nothing, see nothing, and taste not even the dirty air that had filled his lungs. It was a strange, foreign plane in which nothing but his own heartbeat seemed to be real.

Giovanni looked about the scene with a piqued interest, but his somewhat solemn expression did not falter. He turned, he twisted and saw nothing. He, in turn, decided to say nothing as well.

Abruptly, a familiar thick and rich voice pressed against his eardrums, like hot breaths of someone who had been close enough to whisper, and yet he felt none's presence enter his own company. "You're awfully tired, aren't you? Aren't you? Why don't you sleep?" the older boy told him with a disembodied voice. The brightly-colored man looked down at his loafers, feeling the tension in his body reduced to comfort as an otherworldly, invisible embrace captured him and nestled him. "Why don't you sleep?" the older boy's voice urged again, in a soft, commanding tone.

Giovanni felt his body become close to gelatin, every nerve feeling less than before as the embrace consumed him and tempted him into a lethal slumber. "All of your sorrows, your pain, leave them. . . leave them, now, and sleep. . ." the boy continued, hot breaths caressing his earlobes and the weight of his words making their fibers feel much like lead. But Giovanni's knees did not give in, and his eyes did not quiver under the weight of their lids and instead, cackled amusingly.

With a light, swift movement, a brilliant, golden lance materialized between the grip of Giovanni's gloved hand before he'd swipe it in front of him, a ferocious gust of wind blowing the darkness away as if it were tangible. In front of him sat the now defeated older boy, who looked up at the brightly-dressed Giovanni with wide, weary eyes. Awestruck, some would say. His face was moist with a thin layer of sweat, and his mouth did not dare move.

Giovanni looked from him to the two other boys who remained completely still in their eerie postures. It was clear that whatever it was that he just experienced those two must be at this very moment as well. But it was merely only a gaze of confirmation, not concern, and his attention would quickly return to the silent boy. Chipperly, Giovanni held the sharpest end of his weapon to the throat of the silent one's, who swallowed anxiously. "That wasn't at all necessary, but I appreciate your attempts. Let's start over, yes? What is your name?" he chided, but the boy didn't respond and continued to look at him. But Giovanni's patience quickly became thin as his cheery smile reduced to a frown, and sharp gaze became sharper into a glare. "What is your name?" he asked again, this time the boy's gaze with him breaking, tightening into the same glare before he began staring at the ground beneath him.

". . . teo." the boy answered almost inaudibly. Giovanni sighed peevishly.

"Speak up, won't you? Goodness!" he demanded with an anger closer to frustration than rage.

"Matteo. That's all." Matteo answered again with a volume close to being inaudible, but loud enough for him to give a coherent response.

Giovanni looked at him closely, "That's all?"

"That's all." Matteo answered again, just as effortlessly.

Giovanni paused for a moment as if to wonder about the answer he was just given, and quickly shrugged it off, a pleased sigh following that. The golden lance disappeared, shattering into impossibly tiny shards of light until it could be seen no more, and the brightly-dressed warrior looked closer to his original appearance. "Alright, Matteo, I can see you're busy but I can't ignore talent when I see it. My name's Giovanni Tesoro, and allow me to formally invite you to the Tesoro Family. How's that sound?" he grinned mischievously.

"No, thanks." he answered abruptly, sharply.

Giovanni's brows would scrunch, perplexed, "And why's that?"

Matteo began to stand up to his full height, which easily towered over Giovanni's astonishing six feet by at least four inches. He looked down at the optimistic man with an acute gloominess, "Does it matter? Nothing you could offer is better than-"

"Matteo, you are gifted with a power many would commit the vilest of sins to obtain. A boy of your caliber is being given the opportunity for greatness and you'd be foolish to decline." Giovanni interrupted with an equal sharpness, yet his smile did not waver. "Come with me, and I promise you will not regret it. Leave this place."

They both became quiet, and Matteo stared at the ground indignantly. Giovanni, noticing his silence, sighed once again. He began to turn away and walk out of the alley, "You come to the Tesoro Estate in Lavanitir Port City when you're ready for a change of scenery, and you tell them I sent you. Farewell, Matteo. It's been fun." With cheery words, he smiled brightly at the boy, who could not see his warmth, and walked off.

[END]

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