Blood, Work Fraternity
Title: Blood, Work, Fraternity
Author: Nakimochiku
Fandom: Mechanique
Characters: Barbaro, Alto, Altissimo, Focoso, Spinto, Moto, Brio, Pizzicato
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Summary: Pizzicato thinks on each of his brothers.
Note: i finished the book more in love with the grimaldi brothers than anyone else, so i elaborated how i felt about them?
It’s easy to name Barbaro the oldest. Not just cause of his kill count, which, after the next three join is how they order their hierarchy, but because he’s the biggest, the most talented; because he swings his arms around their shoulders and looks at them like he promises to always be there to protect and guide, even though they aren’t children.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Barbaro must have had siblings once, before everything.
Alto is everything a second brother should be. He grins the widest, laughs the loudest, jokes and teases the best, as though he has something to compensate for because that’s what second brothers do, they compensate. He is always too rough with punches, too quick to snarl, but as soon as it comes he is laughing again.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Alto is most afraid of not laughing, like that and his tumbles are all he knows how to do.
Altissimo is third, and is eternally exasperated with Alto because that is his job and it’s in his blood. He was reborn with a slight frown on his mouth as soon as Alto came into view. But he’s exasperated because he loves him (they are the closest of all the brothers, their love extending into their past lives). When Alto laughs, he rolls his eyes, when Alto goes for punches, he reins his fists.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Altissimo molded himself around Alto, and now he is not whole without him. Not that any of them are whole.
Focoso is fourth, and like all middle brothers, he is the gloomiest. He laughs rarely, smiles rarer still. He is the hardest of the brothers to read. But he loves as fierce as anyone. He loves like he’s patiently waiting for the day his love pulls him apart. Brio told him when Focoso died his first death, he followed after Spinto, his hand over Spinto’s heart.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Focoso has the right idea, loving as tenderly and as gingerly as one touches a ball of spikes, or lands in pike position with someone to catch you.
Spinto is fifth and pretends to be as carefree as he can manage. He’s quiet and level headed, but not a gentle soul. He alone can tease smiles from Focoso like a note of music from a flute, and he must go about it gently, just as any other brother must go about loving Focoso. He’s the smallest among them, so somehow his name suits him, like a sprite, and he looks good next to Focoso’s tall, lean frame.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks none of them would know how to love Focoso, were it not for the gentle image Spinto manages to cultivate in him. It makes Spinto seem stronger for it.
Moto is sixth, and he is mad. His grins have sharp edges, his eyes glint, and he looks as though he wishes to devour everything in sight, has the power to do so, and the only reason he doesn’t is because it pleases him more to have things whole. He is the most violent of them. Where Alto always settles back with a laugh, one never knows where they stand with Moto until he eases his hand off your throat, or squeezes down.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Moto is the only one who truly enjoyed bloodletting, breathed for it.
Brio is the true youngest, and the most beloved. Brio tamed Alto with a smile, Spinto and Focoso too. He nudges just enough and suddenly they are all in love, all entranced. He is adored and pampered and spoiled, as a youngest should be.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks he should never have taken Brio’s spot, should never have usurped him as youngest.
Pizzicato is the odd man out. He is the only one among them who has never shed any blood save his own, he took the bones last, he is youngest in age as well as hierarchy. He doesn’t know how to laugh with the rest, he doesn’t know how to talk to them, not really. But he loves them all.
He loves Barbaro’s great strength, Alto’s laugh, Altissimo’s exasperation, Focoso’s gloominess, Spinto’s quiet, Moto’s insanity, Brio’s sheer joy for living.
Privately, Pizzicato’s glad they let him in among them, even though they all know he does not belong.
Author: Nakimochiku
Fandom: Mechanique
Characters: Barbaro, Alto, Altissimo, Focoso, Spinto, Moto, Brio, Pizzicato
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Summary: Pizzicato thinks on each of his brothers.
Note: i finished the book more in love with the grimaldi brothers than anyone else, so i elaborated how i felt about them?
It’s easy to name Barbaro the oldest. Not just cause of his kill count, which, after the next three join is how they order their hierarchy, but because he’s the biggest, the most talented; because he swings his arms around their shoulders and looks at them like he promises to always be there to protect and guide, even though they aren’t children.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Barbaro must have had siblings once, before everything.
Alto is everything a second brother should be. He grins the widest, laughs the loudest, jokes and teases the best, as though he has something to compensate for because that’s what second brothers do, they compensate. He is always too rough with punches, too quick to snarl, but as soon as it comes he is laughing again.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Alto is most afraid of not laughing, like that and his tumbles are all he knows how to do.
Altissimo is third, and is eternally exasperated with Alto because that is his job and it’s in his blood. He was reborn with a slight frown on his mouth as soon as Alto came into view. But he’s exasperated because he loves him (they are the closest of all the brothers, their love extending into their past lives). When Alto laughs, he rolls his eyes, when Alto goes for punches, he reins his fists.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Altissimo molded himself around Alto, and now he is not whole without him. Not that any of them are whole.
Focoso is fourth, and like all middle brothers, he is the gloomiest. He laughs rarely, smiles rarer still. He is the hardest of the brothers to read. But he loves as fierce as anyone. He loves like he’s patiently waiting for the day his love pulls him apart. Brio told him when Focoso died his first death, he followed after Spinto, his hand over Spinto’s heart.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Focoso has the right idea, loving as tenderly and as gingerly as one touches a ball of spikes, or lands in pike position with someone to catch you.
Spinto is fifth and pretends to be as carefree as he can manage. He’s quiet and level headed, but not a gentle soul. He alone can tease smiles from Focoso like a note of music from a flute, and he must go about it gently, just as any other brother must go about loving Focoso. He’s the smallest among them, so somehow his name suits him, like a sprite, and he looks good next to Focoso’s tall, lean frame.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks none of them would know how to love Focoso, were it not for the gentle image Spinto manages to cultivate in him. It makes Spinto seem stronger for it.
Moto is sixth, and he is mad. His grins have sharp edges, his eyes glint, and he looks as though he wishes to devour everything in sight, has the power to do so, and the only reason he doesn’t is because it pleases him more to have things whole. He is the most violent of them. Where Alto always settles back with a laugh, one never knows where they stand with Moto until he eases his hand off your throat, or squeezes down.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks Moto is the only one who truly enjoyed bloodletting, breathed for it.
Brio is the true youngest, and the most beloved. Brio tamed Alto with a smile, Spinto and Focoso too. He nudges just enough and suddenly they are all in love, all entranced. He is adored and pampered and spoiled, as a youngest should be.
Privately, Pizzicato thinks he should never have taken Brio’s spot, should never have usurped him as youngest.
Pizzicato is the odd man out. He is the only one among them who has never shed any blood save his own, he took the bones last, he is youngest in age as well as hierarchy. He doesn’t know how to laugh with the rest, he doesn’t know how to talk to them, not really. But he loves them all.
He loves Barbaro’s great strength, Alto’s laugh, Altissimo’s exasperation, Focoso’s gloominess, Spinto’s quiet, Moto’s insanity, Brio’s sheer joy for living.
Privately, Pizzicato’s glad they let him in among them, even though they all know he does not belong.