#Marco Polo Airport

[marvinjob]

Day 8: Wednesday, January 22

[bellshazes]

one day i'll actually watch the hc/empires crossover stuff i need to and write the actual point of ruinsfic i never got to abt bdubs qua sun god and bdubs&gem on being in stories or playing at being in stories or bringing stories into being and improvising stories and, most of all above all fucking else, writing a story so well that it renders you its author/character obsolete and you vanish from it leaving only mythology where once there was a person, maybe, perhaps. all that shit about stones and ruins and memory was supposed to go somewhere. but you could also just go read invisible cities or whatever so i guess it's fine

[aneverydaything]

Day 1906, 11 September 2023

[colgreen31]

Coming in to land over flooded fields at Marco Polo Airport, Venice, Italy

[taxitoairportservice0]

Taxi Venice Marco Polo Airport | Taxitoairportservice.com

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[benoits-neckerchieves]

HE HAS ARRIVED IN VENICE

Daniel Craig & wife Rachel Weisz at Marco Polo airport, Venice, ahead of the premiere of Queer at Venice Film Festival (source)

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

Time for the June Summary! And we've got some WILD results!

Lullah

For the first time EVER, Richarlyson has been dethroned!! Lullah won 11/60 polls, and tied in 2 more polls.

Lullah has been voted most likely to:

Love to sing when she's alone, but hate it when there's people around

Stay up way too late to watch the stars

Have a Hamilton phase

Make paper fortune tellers

Be obsessed with crafts to the point almost everything in their room is homemade

Try to go foraging for mushrooms

Make flower crowns for her siblings

Make Warrior Cats AMV's

Be a fiber artist

Host her birthday party at a "Paint Your Own Pottery" place

Win the talent show

Richarlyson

Despite being dethroned, I'm pretty sure that Richas will never be below top 3. Richas has won 12/60 polls this month, and tied for another one. Richas has been voted most likely to:

Put an object in his tooth gap

Be banned from the kitchen for causing a fire

WILLINGLY put his head in Freddy Fazbear's mouth

Be the first to jump into the pool

Not realise that straight people exist

Dye his sibling's hair in the middle of the night

Sneak out of bed to secretly watch whatever late night TV their parents have on

Be the goalkeeper in a football/soccer team

Eat his shed skins like a leopard gecko

Play dirty in Marco Polo

Play on Roblox

Sneak into the kitchen to eat butter straight from the butter dish

Dapper, Pepito & Sunny

With 7/60 polls won each (Well, technically Dapper won 6 and tied for one), Dapper has been voted most likely to:

Convince her siblings that he has magical powers

Collect trading cards

Perform a science experiment that forces the class to evacuate

Play scary games at a sleepover just to scare everyone

Tell their parent bedtime stories

Have strong opinions about classical music composers

Pepito has been voted most likely to:

Not recognize a parent after they got a haircut, and start crying because Pepito thinks they are a stranger

Get lost in an airport

Crawl into Pepito's parent's bed after a nightmare

Play on Club Penguin

Parallel play with a sibling by watching them play videogames

Accidentally trip on the graduation stage

Be tricked by Pepito's sibling giving Pepito an unplugged controller

Sunny has been voted most likely to:

Win a fashion contest

Cry crocodile tears

Have imaginary family members

Write exclusively in sparkly gel pens

Have a new playground boyfriend/girlfriend every day

Be a picky eater

Host a sleepover

Chayanne

With 5/60 polls won, Chayanne has been voted most likely to:

Be really into Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Be super into greek mythology

Be a natural leader in a Lord Of The Flies -like story

Jump on the stage of a talent show to help a sibling with stage fright

Get really competitive at the Splat-A-Lot course

Ramón & Pomme

With 3/60 polls won each, Ramón has been voted most likely to:

Make dioramas

Eat instant ramen at LEAST twice a day

Start a stick blacksmith shop

Pomme has been voted most likey to:

Be at the library every day if she could

Offer free face painting of pride flags at a pride event

Go all out for pride month

Leonarda & Empanada

With 1/60 polls won, and tied for 1 more, Leo has been voted most likely to:

Play on Neopets

Empanada has been voted most likely to:

Embroider in her spare time

Chunsik

With 1/60 polls won, Chunsik has been voted most likely to:

Step outside for 10 minutes and somehow get sunburnt

Now, onto the ties!

Lullah & Empanada

have tied for being most likely to have a sticker journal!

Lullah & Leonarda

Have tied for being most likely to play on Animal Jam!

Dapper & Richarlyson

Have tied for being most likely to try to scare their sibling while they're playing a horror game!

I'll see you all next month! o/

[beautifulvenezia]

Venice Marco Polo Airport, Italy

[blossom-works]

Home For My Heart: It’s a Family Thing

More of my Mbappe stories can be found here

---

Since you and Kylian are from two different countries and cultures, you love to mess with each other. When you really want to mess with him, you will purposefully call football, “soccer”. Without fail it annoys Kylian and you take great pleasure in it. One time you put on an American Football game and called out to your then boyfriend, “Hey, babe! Let’s watch some football!” Kylian glared at you when he came downstairs. He snatched the remote from you and put on a true football game. 

It is no surprise that the Mbappe family loves football. Heck, all their sons play the sport. It will not be long until the Mbappe family line is full of professional athletes. You have no idea what the family talks about more than football. Whenever his family gets together, Kylian and his brothers will have a 1 v 1 v 1 game. Their father, Wilfriend, will act as the referee. Sometimes they will drag you and Melissa into their game. 

When your nephew found out that you were dating a professional footballer, they did not know how to react. Especially when they met Kylian in person for the first time. Your boys were shy and even shyer when Kylian asked them if they wanted him to teach them how to play “soccer”.  After they warmed up to him, Kylian ended up teaching them a couple of tricks. Your oldest nephew ended up joining his school’s soccer club too. 

You remember going to one of Kylian’s matches as his girlfriend for the first time. It was a game in England against Manchester. Kylian told you to clear your schedule for one week and he flew you to the British country. It was also the first time you met his family. 

---

Landing at Heathrow Airport, you try to navigate your way through the big building. When you eventually reach the bagging area, you feel like you are playing “Marco Polo”. You think you found your bag, but it is someone else’s. Spotting another light gray suitcase, you check the tag and yes! It is your bag! Hauling it out of the luggage carousel, you head to the main exit and find a man holding a sign with your name on it. 

“Mr. Lewis?”

The uniformed man smiles. “May I see an ID ma’am?”

“Sure.” You pull out your wallet from your carry-on backpack and take out your driver’s license. Still smiling at you, the man hands you back the card.

“Allow me, miss.” He takes your suitcase and starts leading you to his car. “Mr. Mbappe has instructed me to take you directly to the hotel. He has also instructed me to tell you that you’ll be having dinner with him and his family. Six I believe.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Man... this feels weird. Never have you had someone take your luggage for you and tell you what your agenda looks like. Not only that, but to have a total stranger chauffeur you around (you are not a fan of Ubers or Lyfts). 

Mr. Lewis opens the door for a Mercedes for you and once closed, puts your luggage into the truck. The vehicle has leather seats and looks brand-new. It even has a parting window in it. You feel like Mia Thermopolis from “The Princess Diaries” when you think about playing with the buttons. 

The ride to the hotel is smooth. Mr. Lewis even starts a conversation with you without getting personal. He tells you that he is from the countryside, but he moved to the city for work. He even met his wife here and they now have three children. When you arrive at the hotel, bellhops open the door and takes your luggage out. Mr. Lewis tells them your name and to your surprise, the bellhops know who you are. Like they have been expecting you. 

‘God what money can do.’

One of the bellhops escorts you to the front desk and before you can thank Mr. Lewis, his car is gone. The receptionist checks you in and hands you a keycard. She informs you that your luggage should already be in your room, and that another employee will bring a refreshment to you soon. When you get to your room, you are amazed at how big it is. Most of your hotel stays consist of Holiday Inns or The Marriott. Kylian did not let the opportunity to impress you slip by. There is even a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers on the dresser with a note that says, “Welcome to London, bébé”.

You remember Mr. Lewis telling you about the dinner plans and scrambling to get your phone out. You have about five hours until you have to leave your room. Enough time for a three-hour nap. Taking your shoes off, you plop your bodyweight on the comfortable bed. Just when you are about to lose consciousness, someone knocks on your door. Opening it, an employee with a cloche and tray greets you and places the snack on the table. He asks you if there is anything you need and you tell him no. Thanking him, you shut the door and open the cloche. A cup of hummus with fresh pita bread and vegetables is beautifully arranged. As good as the snack looks, sleep is what you really need. You set a timer for three hours and knock the fuck out. 

Thank goodness you decided to put your ringer on full blast or else you would not have heard it. Though, it does make your heart race from the sudden, loud noise. You have to coach yourself to not fall back asleep. Feeling an uncomfortable wetness, you lift your cheek and smell saliva on the pillow. Way to go you...ruining a perfectly good pillow in less than half a day. Shaking your head and wiping your cheek on your shirt, you roll out of bed and open your suitcase. Luckily Kylian told you to pack at least three pairs of nice clothes and maybe a dress or two. Pulling out whatever you think is nice, you set it on the bed and get started with your makeup. You opt to keep your hair simple by just straightening it. You put on some dainty earrings with a matching necklace. Your dress is a modest, black body con dress. From the top compartment of your suitcase, you pull out a pair of Jordans Kylian got you for your birthday. 

As you are checking yourself out in the mirror you realize that you have no idea where you are supposed to go. Fuck! You forgot that you are meeting his family all together! Jumping back, you make sure that your attire is appropriate enough to meet your boyfriend’s family. Is your makeup too much? You like to keep it natural and minimal as possible, but everyone has their own definition of natural. Maybe wearing shoes Kylian got you is a bit much. His family might think that you are showing off Ky’s money. Oh, God, you hope they at least like you. 

Before you can continue playing your own Devil’s Advocate, someone knocks on your room door. On the other side of the door is a nicely dressed woman. 

“Hello, miss. I’m here to escort you to the restaurant.”

‘Oh, thank goodness.’

Thanking her, you make sure you have all you need, not forgetting the key card, and follow the lady to the elevator. She leads you up to the fifteenth floor and makes a sharp right. The restaurant she takes you in has a modern and dark look to it. Instead of leading you to a table, she takes you down a secluded hallway. Opening one of the doors to the left, she motions you to enter. You quietly thank her with a racing heart. 

Kylian is the first to spot you and he smiles. 

“Bébé!” His taller figure appears right in front of you, and he gives you a couple of pecks. 

“How are you doing? How was the flight? I’m sorry I couldn’t get you myself. We had to practice once more before the game.”

“C’est bon.” It feels good to finally see Kylian after being months apart. He plants a final kiss on your temple and moves to the side so he can introduce you to his family. You give them an awkward greeting with a small wave, hoping that you do not look stupid. It’s alright.

His mother, Fayza, gets up and greets you with a hug. His father, Wilfried, is next. He gives you a handshake before hugging you. They both say “Hi” to you in English. Kylian’s brothers give you a wave and Melissa offers you a hug. She tells her kids to say “Hello”, which they obey. It is kind of crazy to see them all grown up. You remember seeing them on Kylian’s Instagram years ago when they were only two or three. Holy crap...Does that make you old? Needless to say, meeting Kylian’s family is a surreal moment for you. 

Kylian’s family asks you about your family life and job in America. You tell them stories of your childhood and they told you Kylian’s in exchange. He tried to stop his mother from showing you a picture of his baby self in the bathtub, but it did not work. She just slaps his hand away and shows you the image in her phone. Wilfried and you talk about your education. What schools you went to and about your internships. You even expose that you are a history nerd. It takes you a while for you and Ethan to get comfortable around each other, but you find some things to talk about. 

Jires and Melissa ask more about your family. You come from a big family. Four older siblings while you are the abby. You and Melissa bond over feminine topics and even your experience with kids. Since your whole dream job deals with children, you ask her about tips you can put to use. All the while you talking to the Mbappe family, Kylian cannot keep his eyes off you. Nor can his smile leave his face. Yeah. You will fit in just fine. 

---

Excited that your package has arrived, you run to the kitchen to open it. Pulling out the product you awe at the craftmanship. You start to get a little emotional over the sentimental value of the product. Getting a mailer box you got a week ago, you jazz it up. Placing the crafted items right on top of the fillers. You close the box and leave it on the wooden table.

You decide to take a walk around the area where you live. Ever since you moved to Europe, you have fallen in love with its architecture. Unlike the US, European cities are more condensed, so people prefer to walk rather than drive. You love that you do not have to drive at least fifteen minutes to a shop, bakery, restaurant, or park. European cities are like a cleaner and less noisy Washington D.C. 

Going to a nearby fresh market, you pick up a few small desserts and fruit. With two bags in hand and a cup of gelato, you head back home. Your apartment building doubles as a hotel. The hotel consists of the bottom three floors and the upper four are apartments. Residents use separate elevators than the hotel guest. Their elevators are right in the front lobby while the resident’s elevators is in a private lobby that is closely monitored. 

When you and Kylian got married, you agreed that you two will wait to buy a house when you have two kids. It is not that your penthouse is small (it is far from that), but you have always wanted to have a backyard. One that your children can run in. You prefer real grass, but faux grass is fine too. As you walk inside your home, you put the desserts and fruits in the fridge. Every now and then on Instagram, you see these moms who buy organizers for their fridges, and you just cannot bother. The same can be said for your pantry. 

You throw your gelato cup in the trash and put on your favorite show. It has been your favorite for a long time, and it never gets old. Kylian does not understand how you can watch something over and over again in a one-week period, and then do the same thing the next week. You get lost in a couple of episodes when the front door opens. 

“Hey, bébé.”

“Hey. I accidentally opened one of your packages. I left it on the kitchen table.”

Kylian is not bothered that you opened something mailed to him, but he is confused because he is not expecting a package to come in. Maybe a company sent him a PR package. Kylian kisses your cheek from behind the couch and sees the white box. Pulling the tabs out and lifting the top. It only takes a couple of seconds for him to register what the “package” is. Jumping in joy, he whips his head to the couch and sees you leaning against the back of it, widely grinning. 

Your husband of just four months takes out the plastic stick and makes large strides to you. 

“Amour! Are you serious!”

“Mm-hmm.” You nod. 

Kylian hugs you by your shoulders. If you could, you would bet that Kylian is happier than when he wins the World Cup. Truthfully, no trophy can top what the “package” contains. Inside the white box is a pair of small crochet cleats, a small crochet football, and a positive pregnancy test. It looks like football really does run in the Mbappe family. 

Two Months Later:

Your pregnancy has been easy to hide since your stomach has not grown a lot. It only looks like you just overate a bit. Kylian has been waiting to tell his family and friends about the exciting news, but you asked him not to. You know and know people that have had a miscarriage early in their first trimester. Plus, doctors say that the first trimester is the most critical because most miscarriages happen during this stage. After your first trimester ended, you and Kylian decided that now is time to tell your family. 

There is no major holiday coming up so you cannot announce the pregnancy in one go. Getting creative, you decided to copy the way you told Kylian. Just a little different. You made a list of all your immediate family members (Kylian’s combined) who have their own residence and made a coordinating number of boxes. Each box contains copies of your latest ultrasound photo and a note that says, “Little Kicker, Coming August 20XX.”

[lamaisongaga]

LADY GAGA LEAVES VENICE IN GALLERY DEPT.

After a busy few days in Venice, Lady Gaga was seen leaving the Cipriani Hotel and heading to the Marco Polo Airport en route to Paris where her European journey continued.

Celebrity-loved LA-based brand Gallery Dept. is the name behind Gaga's new pair of re-worked Levi's flare indigo denim jeans.

Founded by artist Josué Thomas, the brand transforms old jeans into unique, hand-distressed pieces with bold designs, blending street style with art. Each item is one-of-a-kind, making Gallery Dept. a favorite for its edgy, creative approach to fashion.

Gaga completed the look with a black tee, a pair of new Ray-Ban RB0840 wayfarer style sunglasses...

...and her Pleaser Flamingo-1020 black vinyl platform lace-up ankle boots.

[aviaposter]

Embraer 195 Air Dolomiti

Registration: I-ADJT Type: 195LR (190-200 LR) Engines: 2 × GE CF34-10E5 Serial Number: 19000606 First flight: Mar 7, 2013

Air Dolomiti is an Italian regional airline, a member of Lufthansa Regional, with its headquarters nestled in Dossobuono, Villafranca di Verona. Its hubs are at Verona Villafranca Airport, Florence Airport and Venice Marco Polo Airport and Munich Airport and Frankfurt Airport in Germany. Fully owned by Lufthansa, most of its flights operate under the Air Dolomiti brand, while a few remain under the Lufthansa brand. Established on December 30, 1989, Air Dolomiti commenced operations in January 1991, initially serving the Trieste-Genoa route. Its name, inspired by the Dolomites section of the Alps, reflects its deep-rooted connection to Italian heritage. In 1992, the airline started international services with flights from Verona to Munich.

Poster for Aviators aviaposter.com

[hanasblogssss]

My Summer at Cebu 2024✈️🤍

Hi I’m Hana. This is what I did this summer 2024.

May 31, me and my best friends family were heading to Cebu. We were still at the airport waiting for the airplane.✈️

After a few hours, we arrived at Mactan Cebu airport! Yay!

1st day at Cebu! For the first day we went to Ayala Malls. We went to a few shops, then we went to a Photo Booth! It was super fun and will definitely keep the photos we took! Right after the Photo Booth we decided to go to MOE or Museum of Emotions. We had so much fun and we were the only ones there LOL! After, we went swimming for a few hours then went back to the condo.

2nd Day at Cebu! We went to Ayala and shopped a bit, we also met up with some of my best friends cousin! Right after, we went swimming again and it was super fun because we were playing Marco Polo the whole time!

A few days passed, We finally went to Shangri-La because it was the wedding of my best friends Tito. We ate a lot and also talked a lot. It was a really fun day!!

After, we went to the Temple of Leah. It was a very interesting place and definitely worth it! So many interesting things to see. But there was a lot of people.

Oh! We also went to Cebu Ocean Park!!! It was very nice and again very interesting since you can know more about animals. I want to go back to Ocean Park Cebu!!

And after a few weeks, we went back home by boat this time. It was kinda scary and I would prefer riding an airplane but I slept it off LOL! Will forever cherish these memories!!

That’s all guys thank you!!!🤍🤍

[lilircloset]

Arriving at Marco Polo Airport in Venice, Italy.

Lili wore the Anine Bing ‘Lace Bea With Trim’ ($90) while arriving in Venice - August 31st, 2023.

[corneliastreetapartment]

Only you

Masterlist for this fic

Chapter 3: how the hell do i find Damon Bradley?

As the plane slowly taxied on the runway, the flight attendants went through their standard litany of disaster. Passengers, as usual, seemed to ignore their safety instructions, except for one passenger, who appeared slightly green.

Narcissa, turned to the green-faced passenger named Regulus.

"You okay?" Narcissa asked.

Regulus tried to muster a smile and replied, "Sure. I'm fine. I don't know why I never did this before. I mean, what's the big deal?"

The plane began to pick up speed, causing Regulus to rethink his nonchalant attitude.

"Well, except for the fact that I could lose my job," he added.

As the landscape outside the window began to blur, Regulus's anxiety escalated.

"I could lose Emma," he muttered.

With the plane rapidly accelerating down the runway, Regulus suddenly clutched Narcissa's arm and confessed, "I'm afraid to fly!"

The jet engine let out an ear-splitting shriek as the plane took off, leaving Regulus grappling with his fear.

In the late afternoon, Narcissa and Regulus arrived at Marco Polo Airport in Venice. They entered the terminal, with Narcissa feeling jet-lagged and disoriented, while Regulus was positively thrilled.

"We're here, we're here, we're here! I can't believe we're really here," Regulus exclaimed.

As they made their way to the baggage claim area, they couldn't help but notice the Italian men's tendency to treat every woman as if she were the most enchanting person they had ever seen. Regulus observed this phenomenon with curiosity.

"You know what?" he remarked, "It seems like there's a lot more available men in Italy."

Narcissa rolled her eyes and quickly steered Regulus away from the flirtatious encounters.

At the docks of Piazzale Roma, they got their first glimpse of Italy, a visually idealized place where the light was always golden, and every street corner was filled with magic and romance. It was the Italy of guidebooks, memories, and dreams.

They stood at the edge of the docks, contemplating their next move.

"Now what do we do?" Regulus wondered.

Narcissa consulted a travel guide.

"The book said they have boats that are like taxis... Vaporettos," she said, scanning the guide. "What's the name of the place we're staying again?"

Regulus cheerfully pulled out a cocktail napkin with the information.

"It's called... the Gritty Palace," he announced.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "Gritty? Is this gonna be one of those youth hostel dives jammed with backpackers who don't believe in deodorant?"

Regulus shrugged, undeterred. "I don't know... Maybe. Think of it as an adventure."

Regulus spotted a vaporetto, and they dashed towards it, with Narcissa still slightly skeptical. During their hustle, someone pinched Narcissa.

"Ow! What the--" Narcissa exclaimed, turning around to see a mischievous nine-year-old boy nearby. She spitefully swatted him like he was a wasp.

"Cretin."

They managed to board the vaporetto just as it departed, and Regulus couldn't contain his excitement as they sailed towards the enchanting Venice twilight.

"Oh, look Narcissa, look how beautiful..." he marveled at the scenery.

And indeed, it was beautiful as they glided along the Grand Canal, past ancient palaces bathed in the gentle evening light. Gondoliers gracefully paddled by, casting romantic reflections onto the water. It was a scene right out of the movies.

Eventually, the taxi driver called out, "Gritti Palace," and His excitement reached its peak as they approached one of Venice's most elegant and luxurious hotels.

"This is pretty ni-iice..." Regulus murmured in awe.

Narcissa, however, quickly realized something unsettling.

"This is a Lifestyles hotel," she whispered to Regulus.

Regulus looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"What?"

"Lifestyles... 'Of the Rich and Famous.' Of which we are neither. Are you out of your mind? We can't afford this," Narcissa pointed out.

Regulus gazed up at the magnificent building, pondering the situation.

"Are you sure?" he inquired.

Narcissa nodded firmly and crossed her arms. "Yes. Cathy Lee Crosby stayed here."

Regulus remained undaunted. "Well, we're here. And more importantly, he's here," he said, taking a step forward. "We'll cut back on everything else."

Regulus thanked the boat driver and paid him before stepping off the boat. Narcissa, however, hesitated.

"Narcissa. It's one night," Regulus reassured her.

Still uncertain, Narcissa stood her ground.

"They take credit cards," Regulus continued, trying to convince her.

Narcissawas a statue, but Regulus had made up his mind.

"We get frequent flyer miles," he added with determination.

Outside the Gritti Palace entrance, they entered the elegant lobby of the meticulously restored 15th-century palazzo.

"I'm so glad I got up the nerve to do this," Regulus reflected. "All my life, I've waited for men to call. Waited for them to ask me out. Waited for them to make the first move. Well, no more of that. I am finally taking charge of my own destiny."

Approaching the concierge's desk, Regulus turned to Narcissa with a request.

"You ask what room he's in, okay?"

The concierge greeted them politely in Italian, and Narcissa requested a reservation under Regulus Black’s name. While the concierge processed their reservation, Narcissa slipped a credit card with the name "LUCIUS MALFOY" on it to cover their expenses.

"Could you please tell us what room Mr. Bradley is in?" Narcissa inquired, flashing a mischievous grin.

The concierge hesitated for a moment before delivering the disappointing news.

"I'm sorry. Mr. Bradley has already checked out."

Those three words crushed Regulus's hopes.

"Excuse me?" he stammered, disbelieving.

The concierge explained that Mr. Bradley had left half an hour ago, citing unexpected changes in his plans. Regulus was in disbelief.

"He couldn't have checked out... I was supposed to meet him here," he protested.

The concierge repeated the information, and Regulus desperately asked him to double-check, fearing a mistake had been made.

"Are you absolutely sure he's gone? Maybe you made a mistake. You must've made a mistake. Could you check again? Please? Sir?" he implored.

Growing irritated, the concierge reluctantly retrieved a key, indicating the room number.

"Room 217. Would you like to go up and check under the bed?" he quipped, his patience wearing thin.

Regulus was beside himself with anxiety.

"Well, which way did he go?" he asked, frantic.

The concierge's response was a blank stare.

"Nobody here has any idea which way he went?" Regulus pressed.

With no helpful response forthcoming, Regulus turned to Narcissa, who had now decided to find a room for the night.

Devastated and dejected, Regulus remained at the lobby, staring vacantly into space.

"I'll never meet the man of my dreams," he whispered, his voice filled with despair.

Narcissa tried to offer some consolation.

"You gave it your best shot. You tried," Narcissa said, placing a reassuring hand on

 Regulus's shoulder.

But he couldn't help but lament, "We lost him..."

Narcissa nodded empathetically, sharing in Regulus's disappointment.

"You wait here. I'm gonna go get us a room for the night."

As Narcissa headed back towards the check-in desk, Regulus approached the doorman with a contact lens case in hand. He unscrewed one side and held it out to him, attempting to make a playful gesture. The doorman burst into laughter, but when Regulus's demeanor grew more serious, he conveyed something in Italian, gesturing towards the distance possible saying he saw the man they were looking for.

In the moonlit streets of Venice, Regulus and Narcissa hurried along, their footsteps echoing over the ancient bridges and under the soft glow of street lamps. Regulus held a small photograph out in front of him, showing it to his cousing.

"Just once more, so you'll be sure to know what to look for," Regulus insisted.

Narcissa, her patience running thin, replied, "Regulus, I've seen it already, okay? If I spot somebody who's got a head that's an eighth of an inch around, standing underneath a tuba, I'll recognize him from the photo. Otherwise, I'm telling you, it's not gonna do me any good."

Ignoring Narcissa's protests, Regulus began stopping people on the street, eagerly holding out the photograph for them to examine. Some regarded him with incredulity, a few shook their heads, and one tourist even questioned if it was a "Candid Camera" prank.

As Regulus continued his quest someone bumped into him from behind, and the precious photo floated out into St. Mark's Square. Panic set in as Regulus dropped to his hands and knees, desperately trying to prevent it from being trampled.

"What are you doing?" Narcissa inquired, concerned.

"He fell out," Regulus replied, still focused on the photo's safety.

Frantically, he crawled on the ground, inching closer to the photograph. Just as she was about to reach it, a shoe came down, mashing her hand and lifting the photo, now stuck to the sole of the shoe.

Undeterred, Regulus stood up and confronted the man whose shoe held the precious image. He tapped him on the shoulder from behind, and when he turned, he explained his predicament.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm sorry, but I think there's something that belongs to me stuck to the bottom of your shoe," he breathlessly explained.

Perplexed, the man glanced down at his shoe. Regulus reached for it, intending to retrieve the photo. However, in his determination, he accidentally knocked the man off balance, sending him toppling into the canal.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." Regulus apologized as he peered down at the man struggling in the water. Unbeknownst to him, the photo remained attached to the shoe he held. He carefully picked it up, considering his mission accomplished. But fate had other plans.

A sudden gust of wind swept through, whisking the tiny likeness out of his grasp and into the Grand Canal.

Inside the Gritti Palace lobby, a puddle of water formed on the marble floor as Regulus, drenched from his canal encounter, looked devastated. He clutched a phone book in his hand while Narcissa dropped tokens into a payphone.

"You can't really blame him for being upset. It was an Armani suit," Narcissa remarked.

"Did I or did I not offer to have it cleaned?" Regulus defended himself.

"I don't think he understood what you were saying," Narcissa responded. "What's the airport number?"

A maid wheeled a cart past them, but Regulus suddenly seemed to have an idea.

"No," he said, taking the receiver from Narcissa's hand and hanging it up.

"I just got a dial tone—" Narcissa began, but Regulus interrupted.

"The guy at the desk said he only left about a half hour ago, right?" Regulus asked.

"So?" Narcissa inquired.

"So, maybe his room hasn't been cleaned yet. Maybe there's something in there that might help us. Maybe they'll let us go in and take a look around."

They both glanced at the concierge and then back at each other. Despite the moral dilemma, Narcissa picked up the phone again. However, Regulus quickly took it from her and hung it up once more.

"I am not breaking into anybody's room," Narcissa declared firmly.

5 minutes later.

In the hotel hallway, a maid handed over the key to room 217 in exchange for some money. Inside the room, chaos reigned, with the space resembling a tornado's aftermath.

"So far, I'd say we're looking for a rich slob," Narcissa observed, hands on hips.

Meanwhile, Regulus noticed a wastebasket in the corner and excitedly picked it up, hoping to find a clue. After rummaging through the contents, he discovered a Butterfinger wrapper.

"A rich, possibly fat, slob," Narcissa quipped.

Regulus, still hopeful, suggested, "Maybe there's fingerprints on it?"

"We're not looking to arrest the man, Regulus; we're trying to locate him," Narcissa reminded him.

With a tinge of embarrassment, Regulus conceded, "Oh. Right."

Undeterred, Regulus continued to search the wastebasket. Among the discarded items, they found an empty shampoo bottle, a soap wrapper, and an apple core. However, one crumpled piece of paper remained.

"This is our last hope," Regulus said with a sense of urgency as he unfolded it.

"We're saved!" he exclaimed.

Narcissa, curious, asked, "What is it?"

Regulus examined the note and revealed, "A phone message. Only..."

Narcissa pressed for more information, "Only what?"

"Only, it's in Italian..." Regulus confessed.

The concierge's impatient expression as he examined the note was quite offputting.

"So what is this? He owes you money?" the concierge inquired.

Regulus tried to explain, "No... it's just very important that I find him, okay?"

"Why?" the concierge pressed.

"Because," Regulus replied simply.

Narcissa added to the narrative, "Look, it's very simple. When he was eleven years old, he got this name—"

Regulus elbowed Narcissa to keep her quiet. The concierge studied them closely.

"Look," Narcissa continued in a softer tone, "My friend was supposed to meet his brother here. We just want to find him. It's important to him."

Regulus, on the verge of tears, chimed in, "Yes, my long-lost brother. We were separated when we were very young, and I'm here trying to find him."

The fabricated story seemed to touch a chord with the concierge. Regulus managed a tearful smile.

"And he's going to be married in five days," Narcissa added, trying to garner more sympathy, "and it would mean so much to him if she could find him before his wedding day."

The concierge looked at Regulus, contemplating his story. Regulus nodded vigorously.

"All I ask is that you just call this number and ask if they know him, if they have any idea where we might find him," Regulus pleaded.

The concierge seemed to relent, and after a moment's pause, he agreed. He made the call and informed them that a woman named Anna, who worked with the man they were looking for, might have information. However, she wouldn't be available until tomorrow.

With a glimmer of hope, Regulus and Narcissa thanked the concierge. Their journey to find this man continued, with Rome as their next destination.

Under the Tuscan sun, Regulus and Narcissa embarked on a journey through the picturesque countryside of Tuscany, their mode of transport a vespa. Regulus confidently handled the vespa's handlebars.

"Couldn't we just have taken a train?" Narcissa asked, her voice slightly irritated.

Regulus defended his choice, "The book said they have a lot of rail strikes in Italy. This way we're in control. Besides, look how pretty this is. We're really getting to see the countryside."

As they continued their vespa adventure, the day wore on, and they eventually found themselves pushing the vespa along a country road. Exhausted and frustrated, they engaged in a heated discussion.

"I told you a liter was less than a gallon," Regulus argued.

Narcissa retorted, "We would've had enough gas to get us there if you hadn't gotten us lost. Besides, a kilometer is less than a mile."

Their conversation ended in a tense silence until Narcissa broke it, expressing her hunger.

"You know, no offense or anything, Narcissa, but I think I'm starting to see Lucius's side of the story," Regulus confessed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Narcissa inquired.

"Nothing," Regulus quickly replied. "I'm sorry. I'm just on edge."

Regulus suddenly spotted something, and his demeanor shifted. He extended his arm and thumb, signaling for a ride from a passing car.

"I don't know that we should be accepting any rides from strangers," Narcissa cautioned.

Regulus gave Narcissa an incredulous look and asked, "You expecting somebody you know?"

Narcissa sighed and decided to stay quiet, letting Regulus proceed with his plan.

The two cousins continued their journey, pushing the vespa along the road, surrounded by the idyllic Tuscan landscape.

"Boy, we sure are seeing the countryside, alright," Narcissa noted with sarcasm.

Regulus's frustration continued to build, and he snapped, "I'm afraid we're losing him."

Narcissa, lost in her own thoughts, replied, "You think he misses me at all?"

Regulus, feeling a connection to his sister, sighed and said. "Remember in junior high, when I had that Halloween party?" Regulus asked. "And we were playing Twister. And it landed on right-hand-red, and there was only one red spot left. You reached for it, but you started to fall."

Narcissa listened to the story, her expression softening.

"And instead of taking it, Lucius reached out to catch you. He let you win. Lucius never let anybody win. That's when I knew. He was a goner."

Narcissa smiled at the memory, a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"That was a long time ago," Narcissa said.

Regulus continued, "And you know what I thought then, Narcissa? I thought, I hope someday I have somebody who loves me that much."

Narcissa looked up at Regulus, her eyes filled with doubt. Regulus nodded solemnly.

"He went out and bought himself men's cologne the other day. Did I tell you that?" Narcissa shared.

Regulus's concern grew as she realized the significance of Narcissa's words.

"Polo," Narcissa added.

A wave of empathy washed over him as she put an arm around Narcissa, offering comfort and support.

"You'll find someone who'll let you win at Twister," Regulus assured her.

Narcissa smiled, and they sat together in the Tuscan countryside, pondering the complexities of love and life.

In the dimly lit squash court, Emma and Lucius engaged in an intense match. Lucius, clad in highly wrinkled attire, vented his frustrations as they played.

"So, she just takes off on me. No warning. No explanation. Just this message on the machine, 'I'm leaving you. Take the clothes out of the dryer.' I mean, what'd I do?" Lucius questioned, frustration evident in his voice as he smacked the ball against the wall.

Emma, his opponent on the court, couldn't hide her bewilderment. "I don't get it. He hasn't seen her since she was a kid, now just because she's dying, all of a sudden he's gotta see her again?"

Lucius paused for a moment, catching his breath, as he contemplated his recent experiences. "She's been acting weird lately, though. I should've seen it coming. Babbling on and on and on about 'communication'. Like I don't know how to communicate."

Emma attempted to offer some perspective. "Let's face it. Sooner or later we all die."

Lucius nodded in agreement, understanding the inevitability of mortality. "Exactly."

After a brief silence, Lucius halted the game, turning to Emma with a puzzled expression. "Who's dying?"

Emma, momentarily taken aback by Lucius's confusion, clarified, "Your great aunt."

Lucius furrowed his brow, his wrinkled clothes the least of his concerns. "What great aunt?"

[bellshazes]

distant stations is like what if bdubs was kublai khan and marco polo ran a cooking show on tv and also, the conversation about the imagined empire is literally true but also, importantly, essentially, so is the city of airports. and sometimes a city is a death game or whatever instead.

[beautifulvenezia]

Venice Marco Polo Airport, Italy