Lucio

Lucio had a normal childhood. That is, if you consider being the only son of the largest syndicate boss in the city normal. From an early age, Lucio displayed a level of brilliance and strategic thinking which pleased his father immensely. Paul Giambi had big plans for his son. Ivy League schools. A new structure. A new and unstoppable power in the City. Lucio as the head of the syndicate.

He killed his first man at fifteen.

He had his first male lover at sixteen. Of course, that milestone wasn't something he was going to tell his father. He had seen how Paul handled "problems" and didn't want to become one himself. He was skillful at reading men's hearts and while he could be ruthless when needed, he was often moved more to pity than to scorn. Franco, his father's top lieutenant and Lucio's mentor, protector and bodyguard, called this talent "navigating between the pillars of Might and Mercy" and had commented that he had never seen anyone so adept - including Lucio's father. Enemies became loyal soldiers; loyal soldiers would sacrifice anything for him without a second thought.

During his last year at graduate school, Lucio invited his friend (and lover) Stephen home during the midwinter break. Both Lucio and Stephen were strong, muscular and devilishly handsome. However, where Lucio was dark - wavy brown hair, brown eyes and always a hint of shadow on his square jaw - Stephen was light - fine, white-blonde hair with pale green eyes the color of new leaves. It was during this break that his father surprised him and his partner. Shock, anger and sadness chased across his father's face as he caught the two together - as he saw Stephen's strong legs over his son's shoulders and his son thrusting into the pale young man moaning beneath him. Paul quickly turned around and slammed the bedroom door shut.

"Stephen, get dressed and leave. I have to talk to my dad right away. Frank will get you to the airport. I'll see you after the break."

"You never told him?"

Lucio shook his head. "I was afraid he would kill me. I don't want him to kill you."

Stephen felt the icy truth in that statement crawl down his spine. He knew what Lucio's father did for a living.

"But Lucio..."

"Not now. Hurry." He put his finger on his lover's lips and then gave him a quick kiss. Stephen felt the power of command in those three words. Lucio grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled a t-shirt over his head. He ran his fingers through his tousled brown hair for at least some semblance of order. He stepped out of the room and quickly walked to his father's study. He opened the door. His bare feet made no sound on the polished wooden floor.

"Papa?"

His father had been pacing. He looked up as his son entered the room. He grabbed him by the shoulders.

"How long?"

"Papa, I can explain ..."

"HOW LONG, LUCIO?" His father glared at him. He tightened his grip.

"Four years." he whispered. "Four years, Papa." So this was how it ends. Even if his father beat him to death, he wouldn't beg for mercy. He'd hurt him enough. Shamed him. Maybe he'd be lucky and he would kill him quickly.

He held his son vise-like and shook him. "Why the FUCK did you torture yourself, sneaking around, for four years? Huh? Why were you afraid to tell me? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Lucio looked up, shocked. His father's eye's were moist. He was terribly upset, not angry. Not angry at all.

A quiet knock and Frank entered the room. Frank took in the scene. Paul more distraught than he had ever seen him; Lucio frightened to death but trying desperately to be brave . "Everything OK, boss?"

Lucio's father released him and took a deep calming breath. "Oh yeah, Frank, everything is just great. Just hunky fucking-dory. My son has been reaming men up the ass for four years and he forgot to tell me!"


Frank was grinning. Lucio was completely bewildered. The lieutenant stepped between father and son and gave the syndicate boss a deep kiss. Lucio's father returned it with equal ardor. Paul had begun to compose himself. Frank turned to the future crime lord.

"Next time, kiddo, keep the moaning down. Be a little more discreet. Your dad wouldn't be where he is today if we weren't careful. And face it, you really are your father's son."

I had originally been thinking of the Meser mask as more of a con artiste - a very successful confidence man named "Alain". Great fit again - this particular line seems to be cut the tightest so far. (A little *too* tight as the seam down the back of the neck split. Nothing that a little Krazy-Glue and duct tape couldn't fix. ) However, when I was developing the Dash character, the crime boss seemed to take on a life of his own too. I tried the Meser mask on again and the character of Lucio just fell into place. Smart, necessarily ruthless, but slightly vulnerable. Almost, but not quite, a Sophoclean tragic flaw. (Whoops! Is my classical education showing??)

Perhaps it's the way that Greyland makes the masks, but most of the ones I own seem to promote the darker side of human nature - that Vlad Tepes/Elizabeth Bathory type of vibe. The only male masks I've seen that seem to be a bit on the happy-go-lucky side are the "Bob" series - which would make for a great televangelist!!