Gloria Perpetua |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 18 2011, 06:47 PM (846 Views) | |
| Snitch | Sep 18 2011, 06:47 PM Post #1 |
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For most people, the heat, bustle and noise of the Roman marketplace was something that was dealt with every day without enjoyment. For Aemilia Pulchra, it was the site of one of her favorite hobbies: shopping. It wasn't so much the act of buying things at the marketplace that the brunette enjoyed. Rather, Aemilia really loved the looks and murmurs she got as she glided through the streets in her gauzy white dress, followed by a pair of timid servents laden with baskets and various goods that had already been purchased earlier in the day. Men and women both would pause to watch the daughter of Venus go by, some with looks of envy, others with awe. Her laughter filled the various market stalls with a sound like the tinkling of bells, and her smile lit up the otherwise dingy streets even late into the evening hours. Oh yes, Aemilia Pulchra loved to go to the market; almost as much as she loved her job. On this particular day the crowds were relatively thin, and the petite woman navigated through them with ease as she danced from one stall to another, fingering fine silks and gasping as gaudy jewelry. For once her usually revealing garments were covered in a thin, dark blue woolen cloak, the hood pulled up over her head. It was only when she turned to face a person that her lineage became apparent to someone, and as such, she recieved much less attention from the masses on this day than usual. Perhaps she was merely trying to draw less attention to herself, which might explain the reason that her usual following of servents was mysterious absent. The day was waning and sunset was drawing near, and even though most the shops has closed, Aemilia continued to wander through the winding streets, occasionally stopping to eye some merchandise or other before inevitably moving on. It was almost as if she were looking for something - or someone - in particular. The sun's last rays lit up the streets with an orange glow, and eventually the last of the vendors closed his doors for the evening. With the tiniest of sighs, Aemilia ceased her wandering in favor of leaning up against the wall of a building, her cloak pulled tight around her, revealing only her pale, heart-shaped face and the glitter of gold earrings to passers-by. |
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| Lucien | Sep 19 2011, 07:58 AM Post #2 |
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Praetor
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Marcus Krasus Bellus loved the markets. The cry of merchants from their stalls and shops, the smells of exotic foods and strange incense, animals bellowing their strange cries while their owners attempted sale. He paused beside one such merchant, eyes locked curiously on what appeared to be a litter of large wolf-like dogs. Raising an eyebrow, he bent for a closer inspection within their wooden box, tilting his head. Above, he felt the merchant's beady gaze on him and the man's heavy breathing. Marcus was not garbed in the royal purple of the Praetorian Guard and doubtless, the man took him for a common soldier or mercenary. Ignoring the fact, he reached into the box and scratched the ears of several of the pups, all yipping at him appreciatively, bar one. Alone and curled at the back of the box was a pup larger than the rest, but seemingly more timid, his tail curled under his rear paws and head rested on his fore. Lifting an eyebrow, Marcus brushed the others aside gently and reached out to the quiet one. It stirred at his touch and turned to him, and Marcus' breath caught. Two eyes, gold as the fires of Olympus, stared back at him. It was not of this litter; this was more wolf than dog. Its black coat, the colour of obsidian, had shielded it from sight; but Marcus knew the signs. "Ah," said the Merchant in a raspy voice, "the good sir has found the useless one. It sits there unmoving most days. I've half a mind to throw it away. Allow me to take it off your--" Marcus' voice, strong with the power of youth, interrupted. "No. I would make purchase, merchant." The man blinked, but did not question. "Two silver crowns." Marcus handed over the required sum without looking at the man, peering down at his new companion. "I shall name you Phobos," he said softly, "and you shall be my companion for many years yet to come." Rising, he turned to the merchant and handed him two gold crowns. "Take the rest to the orphanage and instruct them to be distributed amongst the children most able to care for them." The merchant raised two greasy eyebrows, "And who are you to command me? I am the great and powerful Hazib al-Zab--!" Marcus interrupted him by reaching into his pouch and sliding on his Praetorian ring. The man's eyes bulged and he turned pale when Marcus spoke. "I am Marcus Krasus Bellus of the Caesar Imperator's Praetorian Guard under Lord-Protector Proteus Neptulos Maximus, the Prince of Storms." "F-Forgive me, sir!" Spluttered the Merchant. "I had no idea! I shall see these delivered myself at once, with utmost care!" Already dismissing the man from notice, Marcus lifted the now pawing wolf pup into his arms and strode away, heedless of the merchant's furious bowing. A few people stared, but most were wise enough to simply move as far away as they could as quickly as possible. Disappearing into the crowd took little time and Marcus spent the rest of the day buying chew toys and other such necessities for his new acquisition, getting him checked at the Animalus Medicus and a tracking chip installed under the pup's flesh, soothing him despite his lack of apparent fear. Stoic little thing. By time he'd finished, he had been forced to call two of his slaves to carry everything back to his villa, though he held on to Phobos. "You, I shan't let out of my sight if such can be helped, my little friend." Kissing the wolf pup's head, he allowing it to snuggle back into his cradling arms while he set out for home at the setting of the sun. His path was still fairly crowded despite the late hour, with shoppers observing the various different products only sold at night -- or heading with excitement towards one of the Ordo Bacchus night clubs to enjoy a night of dancing, drinking and perhaps more. For himself, Marcus had chosen a road less travelled and indeed, found it deserted -- bar one woman leaning against a wall. Immediately, his soldier's training kicked in and his eyes darted to the roofs, alleyways and the street for threats. After finding none, he moved cautiously towards the woman. Roman men had centuries ago learned that women could be twice as dangerous, and thrice as devious as any man. "My lady?" He inquired politely, being sure to let the ring on his finger remain hidden by Phobos' black fur. "Are you well? 'Tis not advised, standing so alone at such a time. The guards cannot be everywhere at once. May I escort you somewhere?" Marcus wore his sword, but not his power armour. Simple attire. He'd taken the monomolecular edge over the Vigoris Gladius. He'd seen no need to flaunt a power sword when he was shopping. Besides, Retribution could handle any street toughs just as well as Vindication could. |
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| Snitch | Sep 19 2011, 09:06 PM Post #3 |
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Lost in thought, Aemilia could not help but be startled at the voice of Marcus as he spoke up behind her. "My lady? Are you well? 'Tis not advised, standing so alone at such a time. The guards cannot be everywhere at once. May I escort you somewhere?" She spun on a heel to face the man, her hood falling back as she did so. Large brown eyes gazed up at the well-built figure before her, and within the briefest of moments a charming smile lit up her features, aimed at pacifying Marcus - perhaps so that he would not question her motives as to why she was standing in the middle of the street at this hour. She did her best not to fidget under his gaze. "Quite well, thank you," she trilled, her sweet voice seeming oddly out of place in a street such as this one. "Forgive me - I was merely lost in thought, and seem to have wandered here by mistake." She did not answer his last question, opting for another soft smile instead. It was then that her eyes flickered to the pup in the man's arms. Her face remained set in a careful smile, but her eyes seemed to narrow just a hair. She was not fooled by the creature's innocent appearance - this pup would grow up to be a machine of war, who would not hesitate to kill in the name of its master. Nevertheless she spoke up, gesturing at the dog vaguely with a delicate hand. "How precious - is it yours?" |
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| Lucien | Sep 19 2011, 09:44 PM Post #4 |
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Praetor
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Marcus noted her beauty first. It almost overwhelmed his better senses, this gift from the gods. It was clear to him that his divine father, Mars, had sent this woman as an offering -- he would perform deeds to impress her! He would--! He would--! He would snap out of being ridiculous. A single blink banished the alien thoughts from his normally disciplined mind. Immediately, he was wary of witchery, then a new thought occurred to him; she did look familiar. Often, the Praetorian Guard milled the streets during the Festival of Love to stand watch against the abuse of the members of the Templum Venus and to step in should the spreading of physical affection turn against the men and women. There were elements in society that would ban it, after all. Now he knew her. He'd seen her clothed in enough to boil the blood, but never enough to hide the secrets that lay beneath. She was one of them; one of the daughters of Venus herself. Only such a creature could have addled his wits so simply with so bare a smile. Steeling his will, his reminded himself that not all gifts could be controlled. Likely, she had not even considered she was doing what she was doing. It was as battle was to him, he surmised, an instinctive and natural part of his person. He was simply good at it, and so he made use of that strength. She was no different. Marcus did, however, note that she was shrewd. Her eyes, upon finding Phobos, grew narrow with suspicion. The quiet nature of the pup and his innocent gazes did not fool her. The golden eyes told tales of his future and he would not bother to deny the creature's destiny. However, when she spoke, it seemed she wished to bandy words instead of cut to the point. How refreshingly Roman of her. "Yes, he is mine." He said with a faint smile, "Recently acquired at expense barely half his worth. Quiet, but I sense he will be valued company in years to come." There, that was suitably vague and also addressed her suspicion adequately. Let her stew on that. A moment of consideration to his own thoughts caused him pause in some breath, however. He was allowing his father's competitive nature to infect him. He had been warned of this by other siblings sired of the God of War and Honour. He needed to be wary, lest his own foolish pride overtook good sense. Still, there was no harm in thoughts -- this was no child of a God capable of discerning the mind. She was a vision though, almost divine in her beauty. Venus had favoured this daughter of hers. "But again, milady," he pursued doggedly, "are you sure you require no escort?" Then, he simply decided to end the game in the same window as starting it. It was late, and there could be trouble. "I have the honour of being Marcus Krasus Bellus, Soldier of the Praetorian Guard. It would be my pleasure to see you safely, wherever you desire to go." Edited by Lucien, Sep 19 2011, 09:49 PM.
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| Snitch | Sep 19 2011, 10:13 PM Post #5 |
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Shrewd she was indeed - his reaction was not missed by those keen brown eyes of hers, however brief it may have been. Of course, he'd certainly have to be something special to not have reacted to her beauty as most men did. Either that or blind. "Yes, he is mine. Recently acquired at expense barely half his worth. Quiet, but I sense he will be valued company in years to come." So, he had noticed her observation of the pup. Mayhaps he was a demi-god like her? She shrugged off the notion; what were the odds of another child of a god appearing here, in this nearly abandoned alleyway? Not outside the realm of possibility, but very unlikely. Aemilia brushed a strand of thick brown hair out of her eyes, that sweet smile still spread across her fair features. "I'm sure he will," she responded in an off-hand manner, before allowing him to continue. A Praetorian Guard, she thought. Not precisely what she was looking for, but perhaps he might be an interesting fellow nonetheless. Guardsmen were usually easy targets, though they rarely had anything of interest to tell her once their tongues were loosened by drink or lust. Still, she had no desire to return to the Temple tonight, particularly not empty-handed. "Escort? I thank you for your kind offer, but it seems that I have nowhere to be escorted to on this evening. I was on my way to see my sisters, but I suppose I decided against it; staying in such a place as the Temple can become terribly taxing on the senses, you know. There's very little peace for us." This was a blatant lie on so many levels that even an idiot would be able to see it. First off, she did have somewhere to go; Aemilia had inherited her father's villa, along with a relatively large amount of money, as was quite obvious from the golden earrings dangling from her lobes and her poised, lady-like manner. Second, she was walking in the complete opposite direction of the Gardens of Venus - any fool ought to know that. She waited, curious to see his reaction. Any mortal man would take this as an obvious invitation to take her back to his home for a night of pleasure. Were he a demi-god, however... Aemilia was startled out of her musings by his introduction. Once again she eased back into an alluring smile. "A pleasure, my lord. Aemilia Pulchra Tripido, at your service." She bowed low in a decidely masculine manner, her cloak parting slightly to show a glimpse of her revealing white dress and a flash of lightly tanned skin. |
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| Lucien | Sep 19 2011, 10:34 PM Post #6 |
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Praetor
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So she was being forward. Or perhaps a test? It was hard for Marcus to be sure. With women, it was never easy to understand the meaning behind their words and with a child of Venus even less so. He was no son of Minerva, to analyse and comprehend in but a few moments, regardless of training. He was a son of War, designed for the fields of battle and a glorious death. This was out of the realm of his understanding. Swallowing a sigh before it could materialize, he allowed her to finish and introduce herself, bowing in return, a bare bending of the waist, but far more than what was required of him. Praetorian Guards owed submission to none but their own order, the Lord-Protector and the royalty. All the rest of the world's populace, even Senators and Governers, were far removed from their sphere of obedience. If a Praetorian said jump, very few would not ask how high. Still, it did not mean power abuse was unchecked. The honour of the Legion was what kept its name so prestigious and soldiers were highly discouraged from tarnishing the name of the Guard by acting in a manner undeserving of their rank or office. Still, a bow showed real honour -- he did not need to give her the service and, indeed, many of his comrades would not have. Some of the women may even have insulted her for her pass time. There were often unkind terms used for the sisters of the Templum Venus. Marcus could only resign himself to his fate, smiling at her genially as he did so. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable, then, at my Villa." It felt like a nail in the coffin, but damned if he wasn't bound by duty to offer her haven. Once a Praetorian Guard offered protection, that extended to a place at their homes if the individual in question requested it. Often, few did -- the fearsome reputation of the Guard saw to that, but there were some such as this Aemilia who would not hesitate to put a Guard through their paces, see how far they could nudge them. It was going to be a trying night, he was sure. Marcus did not hold baser desires, though, even after that little bow earlier. Subtle, she was, but not subtle enough. Thoughts of flesh and warmth stirred him rarely, for it was battle to which he was betrothed and death the mistress he danced with each time they entered war's dominion. Offering a dip of the head, he stepped back and nodded down the winding street in the direction he had been travelling. "My Terra Vehiculum lies just down this way. Shall we make our way to it?" |
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| Snitch | Sep 19 2011, 10:49 PM Post #7 |
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The faintest of frowns graced her lush lips at his reaction. Most men would have grabbed her right then and there in the abandoned street after that rather forward show of skin. Praetorian Guards were well-trained, that was to be sure, but this man exceptionally so. Perhaps he would not be so interesting after all. Once again her gaze strayed to the quiet pup, and her stomach twisted slightly in apprehension. The frown was soon replaced by a soft smirk, though, the brief cloud passing over her bright features as quickly as it had come. "Really, that is hardly necessary," she purred, well aware of his duty to shelter her in a time of need. While a Guard would serve her no purpose in the long-run, she might as well make the most of it while she was here. Her logical mind told her refuse the offer entirely and simply leave now, to find a more willing target who might actually be useful to her. Then again, when did a daughter of Venus ever think with her logical mind. The hour was growing late, and she was curious to see exactly how far she could push this man until he broke. |
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| Lucien | Sep 19 2011, 11:35 PM Post #8 |
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Praetor
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Marcus smiled again and set off at a polite pace, allowing her to keep up without having to move so quickly as to reveal herself beneath the cloak. He had no care for forcing her partial exposure, no matter how beautiful she was. He was Praetorian, he could visit the Templum at any time and have several of her sisters fawning over him -- that was the way of things. Still, she was markedly beautiful, even for a daughter of Venus. Attention on the road, Mars' son found no signs of alarm as he walked the sparsely populated avenue, nodding to the few men and women trailing through the walk at the hour and stopping to inquire as to the well-being of a pair of children playing outside a well-lit home. Their mother hurried out, but seemed to relax when she spotted the ring on his finger. She gave a grateful curtsy when he withdrew, the children exclaiming over the wolf pup they had affected to pet. Marcus moved like the grown, human version of the wolf pup in his arms, languid and smooth -- flowing from each step to the next. It was a warrior's gait, now revealed as he slipped into old habits of patrol and observation. Regardless of the populous' belief, he knew the truth of Rome's safe streets. It was not for lack of malice that they were easy to walk even were you a great and beautiful girl and all alone, but the power of the Praetorian Guard and the Legionaries that assisted them. Caesars had enforced the rule of the throne for generations and kept every major city, town and even the minor villages from succumbing to lawlessness. That was the power of the empire; peace. Conquest was merely a means to the end of global enlightenment. Curious that there were now peace accords, but there was always conflict. The Sons of Asgard could be relied on for that much. His transport, a black purple-streaked Terra Vehiculum, lay waiting under the gaze of a large light post, the symbol of the Guard emblazoned on the roof. It was large enough for at least four people, thicker than most. Turning to her, he smiled and then returned his gaze to the Vehicle, speaking his unlock code. "Identify: Marcus Krasus Bellus, Serial number 61-435-994-405-Beta-Delta-Jove-Lambda." With a whirr the Vehicle came to life, headlights igniting in a blaze of white-purple and flooding the now-wide street in light. The doors on either side lifted upwards and he stepped forwards to gently place Phobos in the back, turning to Aemilia. "If my lady would enter on the left, I will see to the ignition sequence." Bowing and allowing her to manage, he moved around to the other side of the vehicle and calmly dipped down to fold himself into it. Like most Terra Vehiculum, it had been designed to fit his body lengthways, allowing him to lay himself flat in the operation of the machine, though instead now the seats allowed for reclining back instead of laying down. He did not wish to encourage the daughter of Venus' thoughts. Sliding his thumb over the fingerprint lock next to the controls, the blue pad turned green and the screen in the middle of the vehicle lit up. "Welcome, Lord Bellus." Ignoring it, he slipped his hands to the controls and waited until Aemilia had folded herself languidly inside before closing the doors and activating the wheels, drawing the controls to him and leaning back in his chair. The heads up display layered the projection glass and the pitch blackness faded away, replaced by almost complete invisibility. Were it not for the data clinging to it and the lack of air streaming into the vehicle, there might have been no glass at all. At least, from the inside. It remained black as night on the outside. "Tell me about yourself, Lady Aemilia." He commented idly, the Terra Vehiculum's float system lifting it several hundred metres from the ground to join the lanes of sky traffic snaking around the towering skyscrapers and monuments that littered the mega-city, illuminating the sky as efficiently as the sun. "I am curious as to your nature and history." |
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| Snitch | Sep 20 2011, 12:03 AM Post #9 |
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Aemilia did not hesistate to follow, despite her earlier protest, as he began to weave his way through the streets with the ease and grace of a predator on the hunt. She moved more like a cat, her soft steps and fluid motion contradicting his demanding presence to the point that it was almost humorous to watch - the petite female following the strongly built man like a little shadow. She stayed back as he nodded at various men and women littering the emptying streets and opted to watch from a distance as the Guard spoke to the two children. They, in their innocence, seemed not to notice the woman standing farther back in the shadows, but their mother glanced at Aemilia and Marcus in turn, and her look of suspicion was not missed by the perceptive daughter of Venus. Still, she continued to follow at a slight distance, speaking no word to her companion, but watching his every move with the same sort of interest a cat gives a mouse. A sculpted eyebrow raised slightly as they came to their destination - his vehicle was quite modern and definately very expensive. Of course, this should not come as a surprise, seeing as Guards were well-payed for their fierce loyalty. She obediently settled herself inside the vehicle as he directed, smoothing her skirt as she took her seat. Her blue cloak parted to reveal more of her traditional Roman gown, along with the golden band of a twisting serpent wrapped around her arm. It was rare that Aemilia traveled in vehicles such as this one; she peered out the windows as they rose in the sky to weave through the traffic of the city, interest clear in her gaze. She was caught slightly off guard by his question. "I would prefer it if you did not call me Lady," she responded, glancing over at him for a moment before continuing the survey the passing buildings. "You seem to be a clever man, and ought to know that most women of my descent do not hold titles such as those. I am Aemilia Pulchra, or simply Aemilia, if you wish." Here she paused, her lips pursed for a moment, deciding how much she was willing to tell him. "My history is similar to that of my sisters," she continued. "I grew up in the Temple, under the eye of my mother. Like all of the other daughters." |
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| Lucien | Sep 20 2011, 12:38 AM Post #10 |
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Praetor
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Marcus glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes when she stated she was not a Lady, suppressing a smile. This one had pride, if a strange sort. Traffic weaved before, behind, below and above them, hundreds of different lanes spanning the sky while Divum Praetorius soared between them in trios, watching for danger. The Praetorian Guard took security seriously and any Vehiculum that diverted over the Regisaum without proper verification was eliminated mercilessly, regardless of who was on board. Even the Lord-Protect was not above reproach, in that regard. Of course, Lord Proteus' arrivals were always heralded by trumpets and parades and the fountains of the city exploding with life while the naiads celebrated. After all, Proteus was the Heir of the Tides -- all the waters of the world celebrated his passing. Their exit came upon them ahead, a flashing red sky buoy that signalled his district. Detaching from the traffic, Marcus dipped out and smoothly began descending towards a cluster of lavish looking villas, the grounds increasing in size the closer to Terra they went. In the back, Phobos grunted cutely and rolled over, annoyed by the strange sensations. Marcus smiled; he had been the same the first time he had flown. His place was the ground, with sword in hand, not the sky. The villa belonging to him was old, an affair of polished marble pillars and gold statues to the gods. Here, mighty Mars took prominence upon the high mantle of the grounds, his form wreathed in the flames from surrounding braziers, reflecting the dancing red and orange of the fire with glory. Perhaps that would give her her answer, as to his genetics. Glancing at the statue, Marcus dipped his head slightly as he exited the Vehiculum, having landed it gently on the pad atop the villa. "Father," he murmured quietly, "I implore your strength." Phobos in his arms, he bowed, "Grant my acquisition your favour, that he may grow to be a hound of War." Nothing overtly flashy occurred, though the sudden flare of the braziers was definitely more than chance. The war god's ruby eyes seemed to blaze. Smiling as if comforted, Marcus turned to Aemilia, framed by the fires that burned bright behind him -- he almost seemed to have an aura of power, a red halo of destruction; as if he were an angel of the world's apocalypse. "Shall we retreat inside the villa, Miss Aemilia?" |
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