#Pietro Giovanni

[m-blackwell-and-associates]

Following Up pt 2

Nicky’s people had cleaned the grave well enough, now that the original mission, both true and false, was over.  Nicky had the manners to police his own.  Now it was left to her to gather what dust had fallen out of her cousin’s reach and how she could make it pay.  It would be more satisfying to have someone else pay the costs now resting in her ledger.  

“Any reason you chose…”  Angelina turned back a page to see the list of operatives that Nicky had sent. “Diana Rosselini, alias Anna Betancourt?”  

“I felt she was the best of the four.”

“What made her stand out?”  At first glance, all four seemed to be of similar quality.  Military training of one flavor or another.  Specific skills earned in vague unnamed places.  Confirmed kill lists.  All from distant branches of breeder families, probably only accidentally aware of the family business, if aware of it at all.  No one with any strong ties to any Kindred family that she could recall at this moment.  Perfect operatives for those hopefuls with nothing left to lose and willing to work for a family pariah.

Family pariahs.  

Angelina frowned slightly, perturbed at the unnecessary self-reminder, tucking that thought away for later contemplation.  Now was not the time for meditating on old injustices. 

“I feel that a Rosselini was more suitable,” Pietro gave an easy shrug, as if such an important choice was merely an afterthought.  Normally a temperate guide, she found his lack of care or worry to be irritating this evening. 

“More suitable than what, Pietro?  Do not dissemble.”

He capitulated immediately.  “The Rosselini was the only choice, donna.  I wouldn’t dare Proxy Jara without approval of the Pisnob.  I didn’t feel that you’d want the della Passaglia here, all things considered, so Durant was also not an option.”

“Your consideration of my feelings is commendable, but if he was the better candidate, I would have accepted him.  Chances are he wasn’t involved with the…current politics.”  Angelina clicked her teeth shut on the words, biting them where she couldn’t bite those that had risen against her.

Again that nonchalant shrug and easy grin, tacitly ignoring the tempest she held under thin glass  “I would not risk it and besides, the Rosselini was equally qualified and the fourth did not survive the mission.”

“Karl Koeing, alias of Gerhart Auer,” Angelina mused, putting the papers back in order and finding the small work of neatness to be soothing.  There would be very little this evening that would be considered soothing.  “Nicky removed him from the operation himself?”

“Compromised,” Pietro agreed.  “At least that was what my Rosselini has told me, though I find it all a little extreme.  The Butcher didn’t like the fact he was passing information.  I understand his reasoning, but it wasn’t as if the Koeing was speaking out of house.”

A flash of annoyance cut through her precarious calm, jaw tightening against what she wished to say.  Vincenzo. They had been contemporaries once, equal in status as one of the North American padroni.  Their cousin’s unexpected murder had given him the job and she found the timing of it suspect, as well as Vincenzo’s lack of proper familial mourning.   “And Ms. Rosselini was the one that made sure the grave was clean?”

[diioonysus]

flower crowns + art

[laclefdescoeurs]

The Madonna suckling the infant Christ, Giovanni Pietro Rizzoli, called Giampietrino

[oldsardens]

Lo Spagna (Giovanni di Pietro) - Saint Catherine of Siena

[maertyrer]

Workshop of Giampietrino St. Catherine of Alexandria

Oil on panel, 64,5 x 50 cm, ca. 1530-40

[girlboccaccio]

I started this at October 2022 and left to rot on a folder until now - but now I have photoshop that stopped functioning and I finished it with paint - the low effort is real.

Btw: italian literature authors matrix - from medieval to early modern || 20th century authors coming soon

edit: a little explanation for anyone who isn’t an expert of italian literature

bitch row: Dante Alighieri, Alessandro Manzoni, Giambattista Marino, Vittorio Alfieri

thot row: Giovanni Boccaccio, Torquato Tasso, Ugo Foscolo, Pietro Aretino

bastard row: Pietro Bembo, Giovanni Verga, Giosuè Carducci, Carlo Goldoni

baby row: Francesco Petrarch, Giacomo Leopardi, Ludovico Ariosto, Angelo Poliziano

[xpuigc-bloc]

A New Exhibition Reveals Leonardo’s Secret Obsession With Perfume

The show also delves into the world of Renaissance perfumery.

Giovanni Pietro Rizzoli, Santa Maria Maddalena. Civic Museums of the Visconti Castle, Pavia © Musei Civici del Castello Visconteo, Pavia.

by

Tim Brinkhof

August 24, 2024

You might think you know it all when it comes to Leonardo da Vinci. He painted the Mona Lisa. As an inventor, he devised flying machines centuries before the Wright Brothers. And, in 2017, a painting attributed to him earned the highest price of any artwork at auction.

[gregor-samsung]

“ A Roma le notizie non sono buone. Lussu le racconta del tradimento dei capi dell’esercito e del rifiuto di dare le armi al popolo per difendersi. Lui è stato a porta San Paolo, dove, insieme a Longo, Vassalli, Buozzi, Amendola e Pertini, si è tentato di opporsi ai tedeschi radunando civili arrivati spontaneamente e armati alla buona e un manipolo di soldati rimasti allo sbando dopo la fuga del re, del governo e dei capi militari. Sono state fatte barricate con tram rovesciati, si è combattuto ma alla fine i tedeschi, superiori per forze e numeri, hanno avuto la meglio: sono morti molti civili (si conteranno quattrocento caduti tra i civili, di cui quarantatré donne), tra loro Raffaele Persichetti, un professore di storia dell’arte al liceo Visconti, che sarà medaglia d’oro al valor militare per la resistenza. La battaglia di porta San Paolo è considerata il primo atto della resistenza italiana ed è emblematica del momento, con la viltà del re e di Badoglio, le divisioni all’interno dell’esercito, l’eroismo della popolazione che sceglie di battersi contro il nemico, i capi dell’antifascismo politico che si uniscono per costituire un fronte comune di lotta e resistenza. Sulla mancata difesa di Roma da parte dell’esercito e del governo, Emilio scriverà il suo ultimo libro, poi uscito postumo. “

Silvia Ballestra, La Sibilla. Vita di Joyce Lussu, Laterza (collana I Robinson / Letture), 2022¹; p. 116.

[dame-de-pique]

Giovanni Simone Mayr - Ginevra di Scozia, Imprint: Firenze: Stamperia Fantosini, 1822

Pietro Generali - Adelina, Imprint: Firenze: Stamperia Fabbrini, 1815?

[thatdeadthing]

asks about your ocs. looks at you with my big brown eyes

omg user saffricatrice no wayy<3

the beginning of their story takes direct inspiration from brokeback mountain, two men from nowhere get sent to the middle of nothing to care for white sheep, before eventually drifting deeper into this place they don't know where they find a cathedral with a lonesome girl inside.

Giovanni Cruz is a man in his early twenties who swears to be a competent doctor, wishing to study people but setting to veterinary, weirdly religious in a way that doesn't seem to affect his morals. He is the one that looks over the sheep and the man on a nearby hill, taking care of any that falls sick and shooting down wolves and vampires. He doesn't think too much about his current partner

Pietro Carvalho is also in his early twenties, married and working for a penny even if his real dream is to continue his studies abroad. He sleeps with the sheep and watches the horizon in melancholy to pass the time, and genuinely thinks Giovanni is incredibly vulgar

Haven't been thinking ab them for that long so they're very raw, but they hate each other very much and are occupying 86% of my brain. spins them on my microwave

[m-blackwell-and-associates]

Follow Up pt 5

“He might have been more useful alive, Ms. Rosselini,” Angelina said, sounding disapproving of Diana's protests and indifferent of her discomfort. 

The woman clenched her fists, standing just out of reach of the grasping and vengeful spirit.  “The mission was compromised, Donna Angelina. Even using family resources to transport a near dead man from our basement would have drawn more attention that was necessary thanks to the problems his little princess had already created for us.  Nicky would have done the same in disposing of our unexpected guest.”

Nicky, Angelina thought, would have put a bullet into the man as a safeguard from sudden recovery or rescue.  Nicky would have then proceeded to put a bullet in everyone in the building and she was certain Diana Rossellini knew that, giving Diana’s final call on the matter a tinge of self preservation rather than protocol.  However, having chastised the Proxy sufficiently, she reeled in the wrathful wraith, giving her sullen cousin space to breath and be thankful for her life.

“Simon Boucher,” Angelina said, focusing on the spirit.  Its attention now turned to her, it shrank back into human proportions, once again clear and calm and sad.  “We regret that you have come to this state.”

“You are like her,” he whispered again. 

“I am,” Angelina agreed.  “Did you see the ones that attacked you.”

“No.  I didn’t.”  A ghostly hand went to the pockets of his clothing. Searching.  “They took the rosary from me.  They knew we were coming, even though Elizabeth said it was safe.  Is she safe?  Did they kill her too?  I can’t find her.”

“She’s safe with her brother, Mr. Boucher.  She left France unharmed.  What can be done for you?”

The resigned spirit of Simon looked at his bones under Anglina’s gentle hands.  “Tell my family.  Don’t let them wonder what happened.”

“I can do that for you, Mr. Boucher.”  Angelina glanced meaningfully at Diana and tipped her head to the door, indicating that the Proxy needed to find the absent medical examiner in order to prepare the bones for travel.  Diana, sullen to be dismissed, wisely left without a word.  The wraith of Simon didn’t notice the accessory to his murder leaving, starting transfixed at his own body.

“Is this what happens when you betray someone?  Am I in hell?”

The notion amused Angelina.  “You aren’t in hell, Mr. Boucher.  Whom did you betray?”  The spirit flickered for a moment, the way a warning ripple might go through a swarm of bees.

“He paid me to bring him the rosary.  Elizabeth said he was going to kill me if I did.  But then I died anyway.”  Angelina could feel the sadness in the bones. “Did Elizabeth have me killed?  For the rosary?”

A child, even one in the shadow of  Nicky’s influence, could not possibly have orchestrated such a thing and she said so.  “This might have been simple accident of chance, Mr. Boucher.  Whom did you betray?”  She leaned into the question, urging the wraith to answer truthfully.

Again that ripple as the words were bent unwillingly from the wraith.  “Vincenzo Giovanni.  He paid...my…our Order…to find things for him.”

Angelina shared a quick look with Pietro, her cousin and enforcer becoming grim to hear the news.  “Does Vincenzo live here in Grenoble?”  While a common enough family name, there were only so many that had gotten the Kiss and she could account for each one of those and the territory they were allowed to operate.

“America.  The rosary is gone.  How do I make amends so I can go to Heaven?”  Simon’s voice was beginning to go hollow, an abyssal wail.

“I will help you, Mr. Boucher, but you will have to wait.  We’ll move you out of this place to one of sanctuary.  You will be safe and soon on your path to redemption.”  Angelina poured all of her sincerity into the words, lifting her hands off the bones and letting the mournful spirit of Simon Boucher fade back across the Shroud.

She stood there quietly for a moment, Pietro coming alongside.  “If it is the same Vincenzo that tried to gull the Butcher’s little China Doll…”

“Then you might have to keep me from killing him, Pietro,” Angelia interrupted, more abruptly than she intended.  Her enforcer smiled, a smile full of warmth and charm.

“I am conflicted, Donna, although I might just hold your coat for you.  For the insult done your office if nothing else.  But,” the smile faded as he crossed his arms.  “The way he dallies with business not his own, you might have to wait your turn behind prior complaints.  How does he hold his position the way he burns these bridges?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Pietro.  And,” she added more quietly, seeing Diana escorting the uneasy medical examiner back into the room.  “When we get back to the villa, I want to talk to you about your Proxy.”

[diioonysus]

artemis & diana + art

[tintin-caps]

The Adventures of Tintin - "The Calculus Affair" (1991)

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Giovanni Pietro Rizzoli (Italian, 1495-1549) The virgin and Christ Child

The beautiful painting offered here is one of several replicas made after the original by Giampietrino in the Pinacoteca di Brera.

[askthepianist]

What The fuck did the 6th sibling do. WHERE ARE THEY.

(OOC) Putting it down here cause it's a bit long!!!

(Ó~Ò)و > "...A-...6th sibling?...."

(◉◉) > "..." He doesn't say anything obviously, but his face seems a bit...Unconfortable.

~ଘ•_•) > "...Oh-...Yeah, there's-...Uhm...Her..." Pietro pauses, looking at Emmanuel before continuing "...She-...Uhm...Oh god how do i say that..."

ヾ●>●) > "...It's better to not talk about her. Not at all."

(Ó~Ò)و > "...Huh?...But-...But i want to know about her-...Uhm..I...We had another sister?..."

ଘ७•́‿•̀)७ > "Yeah! I-...Didn't knew we had another sister! What happened to her?"

~ଘ•_•) > "...She-...Well-...We don't really know what happened to her and-..."

ଘ७•́‿•̀)७ > "But you could have told us about her before-..."

ヾ●>●) > "Yes, we could, but it's not needed. She doesn't deserve it anyways."

(Ó~Ò)و > "...B-But-...We had the right to...Know..."

~ଘ•_•) > "...We just thought it would be better if you two didn't knew-..."

ଘ७•́_•̀)७ > "Why would you just assume that?"

~ଘ•_•) > "Well, uhm-...You two are a bit sensitive and-..."

ଘ७•́_•̀)७ > "....Pietro, me and Louise are both grown women, can you not fucking act as if you were trying to protect us like we are babies?"

ヾ●>●) > "Angeline, i think you don't need to get this angry over this, it's just-..."

ଘ७•́_•̀)७ > "DON'T hit me with this little "it's just" blablabla thing! You guys KNOW i was trying to find all of our siblings before and just hid it from us? I know communication with Louise was hard, but we were talking to each other for MONTHS before! I don't care about what you were thinking, you still withdrew information from me and her!"

(Ó~Ò)و > "G-Guys, we don't need to-...F-Fight...Please..."

~ଘ•_•) > "Yes, Angeline, aren't you overreacting a bit? I understand your frustation but-..."

ଘ७•́_•̀)७ > "NO YOU DON'T! You both-...No, you three!" she glances at Giovanni for a second, taking a deep breath. "...Just forget about it! You know what? Forget about it!" Angeline says, before storming off.

(◉◉) > "...!!!" Giovanni just watches as she leaves, trying to go after his sister.

ヾ●>●) > "..." he groans a bit, putting his hand onto his head. "This was a stupid idea..."

[theitcharchives]

Let’s play a lit game. Guess which of these 1700s/early 1800s Italian poets is who

The one who went to work abroad and refused to learn the language his whole life, forcing his imperial employer to learn his, writing all his work of 50+ years in Italian and keeping only a few select also Italian friends;

The one who founded a nowadays still existing academy for scholars and then ditched it when it started veering off path from what he intended;

The one who 99% of the time wrote poems about his imaginary muse, an older woman he supposedly had the hots for since he was a kid;

The one who chose violence and wrote about her emotionally cheating husband fixated on a past lover when everyone else liked to write about frivolous love and picnics;

The one who wrote such an important treatise on the justice system it was used as the basics to reform most European law codes but bailed on his first trip abroad to discuss it and refused to go see the tsarina because Saint Petersburg was too cold;

The three brothers–two who founded a lit circle whose discussions ended in fistfights, the older one paid n.5′s travel expenses and sent the middle one to make sure n. 5 didn’t make a fool of himself in front of the French senpais that had finally noticed them. Middle one failed and went on to England on his own. Youngest one is rumored to be the bio dad of the first Italian novelist, who’s also n.5′s grandkid;

The one who was born poor and worked as a preceptor, fought with his first employers and quit, wrote an extremely successful callout poem about nobility, tutored the guy who became the father figure of First Novelist Guy, and managed to keep his government job through two power shifts because he was just that good of an admin;

The one who was born filthy rich but fucking hated any power hierarchy and any stupid hypocritical enlightened monarch, wrote a fuck you for everyone he could manage including that sellout of n.1 who whored his poetry out to the Austrian tyrants, looked Frederick II the Great right in the eye and found him lacking, loved the French revolutionists at first but decided they’d become filthy tyrants themselves once they started killing everyone and made a mad escape from France, and wrote an autobiography that is frankly fucking hilarious;

N.8 and n.7 fanboy that never properly settled, changing city depending on the government, and preferred self exiling and dying in poverty abroad rather than work for the Austrian occupants that offered him a job;

 The one who stayed up at night to read n.8′s autobiography and then got so excited he wrote a sonnet about it even if he frigging hated sonnets and said he’d never write one. This poor sod was the most depressed sickly guy in the history of Italian literature, tried to run away from home but his overprotective dad busted his plan, had a thousands of pages long notebook, said poetry comes from pain and that half seen things are better than whole things because he was obviously biased by being a wet rag of a man that died young. I still love him;

“Fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck you, fuck you very popular organization, fuck you icon of literature, fuck you main cultural event of my century, and fu–no you’re cool actually–fuck you instead, and fuck you, and what’s this? Schadenfreude? For getting to say the ultimate fuck you to a very popular guy for criticizing my blorbo? Enjoyable. And fuck you. All my friends are important people. Fuck my family.”