1474 Florence, Italy

Luciano sat at the bar, not particularly interested in the show going on behind him. He just wanted a drink and some time away from his annoying brother. He fished around in his pocket for some money to pay for another drink, coming up empty handed. "Damnit." He muttered, getting up from his seat before a hand pushed him back down into his seat. "Another round for this man. On me." He looked up and saw a man with long brown hair, a goatee and blue eyes throw a few Euros onto the counter. The man looked almost French, but there was an unmistakable Italian gene in the man. The bartender got busy putting another drink together and slid it across the table toward Luciano. "And for you, sir?" He asked. "I'm fine." The man answered.

"So what bring a young man such as you down here?" The man asked. "I'm much older than I appear to be, and I'd appreciate it if you kept your gifts to yourself. I don't need your money or consideration." Luciano slid the drink back towards the man and attempted to stand up before the man, once again, sat him down. "What's your name then? At least tell me that." The man said in response. "It's Luciano and I don't like friendly people, so please stay away." Luciano shrugged the man's hand off his shoulder and walked through the crowd towards the exit, though the man followed. "Don't like friendly people? Why that's a shame. I happen to know plenty of friendly people." The man said as they walked out into the empty street. Luciano just mumbled a few profanities under his breath and walked quickly down the street. "My name is da Vinci, by the way. Leonardo da Vinci. And I hope you weren't referring to me when you said 'friendly people.' I have quite a few friends that would call me otherwise." The man rambled on.

"Nice to know. Now can you please go away so I can go home and get some peace?" Luciano asked, turning a corner sharply. "I can't. You've simply caught my attention and I can't look away. I have no choice but to follow you until you say you will be my muse." Da Vinci answered, his chin raised and his chest puffed. "Your what? I'm sorry sir, but I can't do shit for you at the moment." Luciano answered. "Muse. As in inspiration. Your eyes are unseeingly dark and mysterious, your face whispers something that I cannot yet hear. Pain, sorrow, your entire being seems to scream for release." Leonardo described. "Well, thanks. That's always what I like to hear. How unseeingly dark I look." Luciano answered sarcastically, glancing over his shoulder at the man. "Then what is it that your soul screams? Tell me, I'm dying to know." Leonardo answered, almost running right into Luciano when he abruptly stopped.

He turned around slowly and looked the man dead in the eye with an almost sorrowful look. "It screams words of a dying soul, slowly sinking into insanity." He then turned and continued walking as if he had never answered the question. "Words like that is what makes you so interesting, I think. It leaves me guessing." Leonardo took a roll of paper from a pouch on his side and a pen. He messily started writing notes as he walked and put the paper away again. "Explain, sir, what is it that makes you feel as if your soul is dying and sinking into insanity?" Da Vinci asked curiously. "After the years I've been through, it's hard to answer why exactly, but I think it's safe to say that it is because of death. It has consumed the only people I have ever loved and it never escapes me. I fear that even my love for my brother could cause death to appear again and steal him away from me." Luciano answered.

"I feel your pain brother. Your words inspire my art and they awaken my soul to what once was and can be again." Leonardo answered, closing his eyes for a moment. "So will you be my muse?" Leonardo asked once again. "You won't stop bothering me until I do, will you?" Luciano asked with an exasperated sigh. Da Vinci nodded his head. "Fine, I suppose." Luciano muttered and he could practically feel the happiness coming from Da Vinci. "Do you suppose I could stay the night with you as well? I haven't found a place to stay yet and it would dearly help me if you would." Luciano growled. "Fine. Just... Don't upset my brother. He is a bit... excessive. I wasn't even supposed to go out tonight." He cursed under his breath.

When they had finally gotten to Luciano's house, Leonardo gasped in surprise. Luciano unlocked the door to his large villa and quietly opened the door and walked in without turning the lights on. "You live here with your brother?" He asked. "Yes. Me and my obnoxious twin brother." Luciano mumbled.

"I wouldn't quite say obnoxious." A voice said as the lights suddenly turned on. A light brunette head appeared that would later be replaced with bleach blonde after hair dye was (finally) invented. "No, you are obnoxious. What are you doing up this late?" Luciano asked. "Well Luci, I was just waiting for you. You didn't show up for dinner after all." Romano suddenly noticed Da Vinci standing behind him. "Oh, and you brought a friend. I'm so proud of you, Luci. You finally went out and made a friend." Flavio hugged Luciano tightly before he could reply and looked over the man. "The style could be better, it looks like you picked up a straggler, but he seems inventive enough. Nice tool belt you have going there by the way. But I've seen much worse style these past years. Is he planning on staying? Because I still have some pasta on the counter. It might've gone cold by now, though. And the guest room is relatively clean. If you get out plates and serve the pasta, I'll just go and clean the guest room." Romano left without an answer, presumably to clean the guest room.

The next day, Leonardo had somehow convinced Luciano to come out into the yard, so he could draw some sketches of him. Flavio leaned against a pillar in the shade of the large house he and his brother shared watching Leonardo sketch his brother. He had a little pastel stand set up in the grass and had quite a few large papers strewn across the canvas. He drew with his quill and occasionally would dip the feathery pen into a small cauldron of ink when the lines started to fade. He wore new clothes that, although they suited him and also looked a tad small on him (he had borrowed some clothes from Romano's very large walk-in closet), seemed like something a peasant or lazy man would wear. But all was fine. He was able to pull off the look. And he even still wore the red beret and tool belt. And bonus: he wouldn't get anything messy on his nicer clothes.

Veneziano stared with a blank look at Da Vinci as he drew. Leonardo had drawn already, a few sketches of Luciano's face and of the things around him, such as the flowers or blades of grass. He drew contours of Luciano's face and body and at one point had even gotten a few paints and mixed them onto the paper. He commented at one point on Italy's strange eye colour.

"What's wrong with my eyes?" Italy asked defensively. "I've never seen an eye colour such as yours. Not even from the red-eyed albinos I have passed on my short travels." He paused. "It's a strange sort of red. Almost a pink colour. I'd say it's close to magenta, but slightly lighter in color and also brighter. And there are little silver specks in them too. They are strange, but also beautiful in a way." Leonardo mused. Luciano blushed at the comment. "Beautiful? Nothing about me is beautiful." Luciano denied.

Leopoldo hummed, squinting at Luciano. "I don't think there is anything wrong with your appearance. Your appearance just makes you seem... unreal. Like I could blink any moment now and you'd disappear. Like a dream."

"Nothing about me is like a dream. My presence is a nightmare. My hands are stained with lost hopes and the blood of men who saved me. I wish I could disappear." Luciano mumbled. "Then tell me, Luciano of man's nightmares, what is it that makes you think such horrid thoughts? And toward yourself, no less!" He watched Luciano. "Because it's true. Nothing good has ever come from my less than worthless love. Everyone who gets close to me always dies and suffers because of me. My soul is worthless and plagued by darkness and insanity. Nothing about me is beautiful. I can't even see myself in the mirror anymore." Leopoldo looked at him thoughtfully. "You seem so vague in your explanations. I don't see the evil that you see in yourself and yet you insist that you are the most evil, horrid beast."

"You don't see that same evil? Why? Do you just see the best in everyone?" He asked. "No, no. I only ever see the best in the people I deem worthy to be seen as such. In people who aren't envious or greedy or egotistical. I see the best in the people who don't see the best in themselves. And that's why I paint. So I can show those people exactly how beautiful they are. Art doesn't just show an object's physical beauty. It shows what is within as well. It shows the heart of a man. It shows the purity that couldn't be found otherwise." Leopoldo explained. "Why are you so persistent in finding this 'beauty'? It doesn't exist in me. I've done and seen things that have made me go past the point of no return. I'm going mad. You can't possibly find that sort of purity in a mad man's soul."

"Mad man? You don't seem mad at all to me. Insanity is a long journey. A man your age couldn't possibly have gone mad just yet." Leopoldo continued his sketching. "I am much older than you think." Luciano answered simply. "How old are you then, Mister Luciano?" He asked. "I'm twenty two." He hesitantly answered, using his human age. He looked much younger than 22 though, but nobody minded serving him at bars because there were no real laws against drinking alcohol in Italy. Many parents let their children drink frequently nowadays. Most Italians would drink a glass of wine with every meal with their family. It was a wonder Italians weren't wandering the streets half-drunk, although their driving was close to, if not worse than, the equivalent of drunk driving. Even sober Italians couldn't drive for shit.

"Twenty two? You seem much younger than that. Youth is something that every man and woman yearns for though. They say, 'I miss looking and feeling so young like that.' And then there is you, who looks to still be in his youth, complaining because no one believes he is mad." He sent a joking smile his way. "I'm twenty two myself, although people frequently ask if I am in my 30's yet. But I don't mind. I feel young in my soul. No matter how crippled I will undoubtedly become when I age, I will always have the spirit of a child." Leonardo continued. He was almost six inches taller than Italy, even at 5 foot 8. Most men of his age were around his height as well and some were a few inches shorter than him, but he almost towered over Italy. Italy was as short and thin as a teenage boy, which was probably why he had been so defensive about his age.

And if the height didn't seem bad enough (or at least in Luciano's opinion), but as Leonardo continued to draw, he noticed how incredibly fragile he looked. He seemed to have no muscle, making him look even thinner and the fact that he looked like he hadn't eaten in days, perhaps weeks. His face was just as flushed as it had been the night before when he had been drinking, his cheeks were a bit hollow, his fingers looked like they were just bone. If it wasn't for the many layers of clothing he was wearing, he would look like bone. Not even skin and bones. He had bags under his eyes, like as if he hadn't slept in a very long time. He didn't doubt that Luciano hadn't slept that night. Mostly because he had heard quite a few ranging sounds, including what sounded like a door opening and a large and heavy bed being dragged up the stairs. He doubted that was what had been making the sounds, but that was the closest sound he could think of that sounded like what he had heard.

Luciano looked like someone who had gone through more than any man could imagine. And he probably had. His house was almost completely devoid of any type of life other than his brother. He had made paintings before of people that had taken a very long time. Usually his paintings took years. He found himself wondering what could happen between now and the time he finished painting this fragile yet beautiful man.

1477

"W-what?" Luciano asked shakily. "It's been three years Luciano. You've known him more than long enough. Accept the offer." Romano answered straightforward. The way he spoke almost creeped Italy out. He had only heard that tone of voice once when Flavio had threatened to tie him to a tree and leave him to die if he didn't start acting like a functioning human being and get his shit together a few decades after they moved in together. "B-but-" Luciano started before Flavio interjected him again.

"Luciano, I know you don't very much watching humans die, but could you at least try to interact with at least one of them. It's better to know what it's like to lose someone than to never know what it was like to be friends with them at all." Luciano squinted at his brother. "It's not like he asked me out to a game. He asked me out. On a date. And you seem to be completely okay with this."

"Of course I'm okay with it. If I wasn't, I would have never let you go outside of the house to meet people. You should get to know him before he inevitably dies. I have a feeling about this one. It would be beneficial to get to know him." Luciano looked at him confusedly. "I don't understand how it would be beneficial." Luciano said. "Don't worry about it. Now get ready for your date already." Flavio dragged him all the way to his room and left him there to get ready.

Luciano sat next to Leonardo nervously fiddling with his collar. They were out at the park late at night. This night happened to be the night of some sort of small festival. Lights hung in the trees, couples danced around the area, and soft music played. "You nervous?" Leonardo asked, pointing out the obvious. "Y-yes." After two years of working with Luciano, Leonardo had changed a lot. He actually seemed a bit taller than he had been two years ago, he had more of a beard now, though it was trimmed enough that it wasn't hanging down his chest just yet. His hair was a little shorter as he had trimmed it recently. It hung down a little past the nape of his neck and his hair was a little darker than it had been two years ago. Meanwhile Luciano hadn't changed a bit in the past two years. He hadn't actually changed for the past century.

"I've never actually been asked on a date before, let alone let someone get close enough to do so." Luciano said. "I'm actually a bit surprised you let me take you out." Leonardo rubbed the back of his neck. "Not many men around Italy are homosexual, especially considering that almost everyone here is christian."

"Well, I guess that make me a bad christian then." Luciano chuckled. Leonardo suddenly got up and offered a hand to Italy. "Care to dance?" Luciano tentatively took his hand and was guided to the grassy area where everyone was dancing. A slow song was being played by a few people with string instruments and such. The song seemed kind of eerie as some voices sang along. Luciano realized as he listened to the voices that he knew the song. "Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow. No tomorrow, no tomorrow. And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had." He sung along softly.

"I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take. When people run in circles it's a very very mad world." Leonardo sang along with a smiled as he danced with Luciano.

Children waiting for the day they'll feel good

Happy birthday, happy birthday

Made to feel the way that every child should

Sit and listen, sit and listen

Went to school and I was very nervous

No one knew me, no one knew me

Soon enough the two had stopped dancing and were happy with just watching the others dancing after they realized that Leonardo was not a very good dancer. For someone who was a painter, sculptor, architect, musician, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, geologist, botanist, and writer all wrapped into one, he was a terrible dancer. Luciano could have picked up the slack with his awesome dance moves, but he didn't feel like dancing any longer would be a very good idea (mostly because he thought Leonardo's dancing was hilarious and he was probably going to fall over laughing if he let the poor man continue.

After a few more songs played, everyone started packing up to leave since it was getting very late. Luciano and Leonardo walked through the park for a while longer before Flavio came to pick Luciano up (he actually didn't come, he had been there the entire time watching from the shadows, but Luciano would hopefully never know about that).

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Luciano asked, giving Leonardo a kiss on the cheek. "Sí. See you tomorrow!" Leonardo said as Flavio dragged Luciano off while asking him a crap-ton of questions about the date.