Gloria Perpetua |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 18 2011, 06:47 PM (850 Views) | |
| Snitch | Oct 1 2011, 12:47 AM Post #31 |
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Pinned as she was, there was little Aemilia could do to protest Marcus' actions. She watched as his eyes took in her bare skin, so unnaturally pure and unblemisshed, along with every other inch of her body. He was of course correct in his assumptions; most men would've been begging her to marry them by now. It was almost refreshing to have not have to lie and pretend for once, though she was not quite sure if she preferred the son of Mars' aggressive tactics to the fawning of mortal men. Small noises of pleasure escaped her as he lowered himself towards her, rubbing against her moist sex tauntingly. She was not afraid of showing pleasure; as far as Aemilia was concerned, she had already won this battle, yet she would continue to play along for his sake. When he leaned down and spoke into her ear, though, she let a breathy laugh escape her throat. With one mighty tug, the woman tore through the thin fabric of the dress that had been previously keeping her hands bound, flexing her elegant fingers as she smiled sweetly up at him. "Don't act like you don't want just as much as I do," she purred. |
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| Lucien | Oct 1 2011, 11:13 PM Post #32 |
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Praetor
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The Morning After... Marcus awoke early, when the dawn had only begun to filter into the spacious area of his Master bedroom. Red eyes blinked against the bright rays of sunlight and he turned, blearily rubbing sleep from his gaze to glance upon the soft, naked form of Aemilia wrapped in her blankets. It had been a long night, and the woman had been exhausted as much as he himself had. At times, their lovemaking had felt more like two wild animals battling than proper coitus. Not that he was precisely complaining on that note, he noted with a small smirk, but it still wasn't his normal experience during sex. The bed itself was an emperor size, large enough to comfortably fit five people. Upon it, she looked almost doll-like and tiny, wrapped in his thick white blankets. Sliding his naked legs off the side of the bed and rising, Marcus padded nude towards the bathroom and waiting tub of hot water. None of the washer girls were present; they knew he preferred to be alone after he had company. His bath was short, but pleasant, bathing himself in a tub of flash-heated water and sighing at the lilting music and pacifying fragrances that caressed his nostrils. She was probably still asleep; her body and mind weren't as conditioned for early rising as his was and she certainly didn't possess the heightened stamina of a Praetorian. Rising from the water with a numerous cascade of splashing following his ascent, he towelled himself dry and raised a second one to dry his hair vigorously. Leaving the bathroom, now clean, he moved to his cupboard and drew out a simple pair of firm undergarments and silk pants, drawing them on and tying the strings on the latter tight. Garbed thus, his attention returned to the bed and he went back to sink down upon it, bending his head and drying his hair with the towel again. Blood red locks, clumped together in places and spiked humorously in others, looked that much darker for the moisture clinging to them. Shirtless, but hardly exposed, he threw the tall into one of the laundry baskets across the room and shook his now semi-dried hair out, sighing in relief as it spiked and drooped down. For a moment, Marcus hesitated, half-considering turning to nudge Aemilia awake. Instead, he rose once more and moved towards his private balcony, opening the curtains and striding out onto the marble extension. His room was in the centre of the manse, overlooking the grounds and the city both with its large balcony. White stone made up most of the house, and here it was no different, with artistry inscribed onto the banister of the stone in depictions of war. A smile graced his lips as he looked to Rome's royal sector, the towering golden statue of Jupiter dominating all, with the imperial palace beneath its sheltering arm, extended with a thunderbolt in hand. The royal citadel itself, shining in the light of the sun, provided a further sense of comfort. Above, he saw Praetorian aircraft soaring past in patrol patterns, dipping their wings to his sector of Houses; a Praetorian expansion of residences that were easily recognised. He lifted a hand in greeting and was rewarded with a roar from engines. It shook the house, but he hardly minded. They were his comrades. It was well with him. The rising sun held his gaze for a moment, and he dipped his head with a prayer of thanks to Apollo. That night, his prayers would go to the Sun God's sister, Diana. The praetorian ball was to be held in the citadel. Marcus smiled at the thought of Aemilia's face when he told her. |
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| Snitch | Oct 2 2011, 12:03 AM Post #33 |
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Delicate fingers curled around the soft blankets surrounding her form as Aemilia was startled into awakedness by the rumbling roar of the Praetorian aircraft. The daughter of Venus kept her eyes shut, her small form curled up in the massive bed, her dark brown hair spread out over the pillow. She looked almost innocent in this state, and knew it quite well. The spot beside her was empty, but still warm - likely Marcus was still in the room. After a long moment, she opened her chocolate eyes, pushing herself up to a sitting position, the blankets falling down, revealing her bare torso. By some miracle, her hair automatically fell back into place as she set up, giving her the appearance that the night before had never even happened. She quickly spotted the open balcony door, and rose, still naked, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. Aemilia stopped a few paces from the entrance the balcony, the pale sunshine lighting up her slightly olive skin with an almost unnatural glow. She did not care who saw her; the daughter of Venus didn't have much in the way of shame. Aemilia cleared her throat softly, head tilted to one side, before adressing Marcus. "My lord Marcus," she said, the title sound slightly mocking. "I do have to be getting back soon; I do have a job to do. It seems, however, that I've nothing left to wear, after your treatment of my dress last night. You wouldn't happen to have anything in my size lying around, would you?" A small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. Aemilia was more than aware that a man such as the Guard would have had no end to the amount of women he had entertained at his home. She'd be surprised if he didn't have an entire wardrobe lying around by now. |
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| Lucien | Oct 2 2011, 01:15 AM Post #34 |
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Praetor
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Marcus turned at her approach, the irony of her appearing to him as he had to her the previous night not lost on the guardsman. "Aemilia." He greeted with a smile, eyes unwavering from hers. He never looked at her body. "I thought you might wish to replace your lost dress. There is a wardrobe inside my room, next to the television. Please, take your pick." He turned away and returned his eyes to the view, waiting for but a moment, before looking back to her. "Oh." He exclaimed, as if he had only just then remembered. "By the way, there is a Praetorian Ball tonight, hosted in the Imperial Palace." He allowed that to register before continuing, "I would like you to attend me as my date to the event, if you should desire such." A slyness entered Marcus' smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "There will be several higher echelon individuals there, including Lord Romulus, if talk is to be believed." This time mirth was evident in his crimson orbs. He was teasing her, taunting her with the one thing she loved dearly, a thing in her blood; mingling with the upper class. "It is a very formal occasion, so there won't be many wearing clothes of, ah, a suggestive nature. His Majesty the Imperator is quite stern about such practises within his home." Turning away from her, he looked back once more to the grounds, hands resting on the railing of the large balcony. "Do have a bath before you dress, my dear. I understand it is more comfortable that way. If you wish bath maids, you need but call for them with the button next to the door inside." His hair rippled like flowing blood in the morning breeze. "We've a long day ahead of us, Aemilia. Do hurry." |
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| Snitch | Oct 2 2011, 01:48 AM Post #35 |
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Their gazes locked, and for a moment, though the man was far superior to her in stature, Aemilia felt as if they were on the same level. Just the two of them looking at eachother was like a competition to be won or lost. Aemilia shifted her position, lifting her head slightly as he spoke to her, and her eyes narrowed a hair. A ball? Marcus was bold, certainly; the daughter of Venus had had her fun, and was about ready to return to her own villa to resume her work. A polite statement of decline was on the tip of her tongue, when he spoke the name of Lord Romulus was dropped. Damn. Marcus knew that Aemilia would never pass up an opportunity such as this. He had won this battle, though she still considered herself the victor from the previous night, and Aemilia was not particularly good at losing. She pursed her lips, allowing him to see her irritation, before her expression melted into her usual sugar-sweet smile, her brown eyes revealing nothing of her thoughts. "I would be delighted, my lord. I trust you have proper attire here at your villa, or shall I need to return to my home to find something suitable for the event?" she querried, the subtle mention of her own villa a slight taunt directed a him, admitting in an off-hand way that she had lied the previous evening. The seductress did not wait for a response, as she already knew the answer. Instead, she turned and padded across the room, slipping through the door into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. Like most women, Aemilia preferred privacy during this particular daily routine - it was one of the few times where she needn't put on a show for anyone. Turning on the hot water, she waited patiently for the tub to fill, the steam fogging up any mirrors or windows in the room. When she had finished bathing, Aemilia emerged from the bathroom once more, ignoring Marcus' presence should he still be in the vicinity. A towel was wrapped around her, but she still walked with all the grace and pride of a queen, as if she clad in threads of gold and silver. She chose a simple dress with a modest neckline from the wardrobe; the demi-goddess was well aware of her ability to charm no matter what she wore. |
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| Lucien | Oct 2 2011, 02:16 AM Post #36 |
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Praetor
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Marcus, in her time bathing, had found other clothes to wear. He assumed that they would be leaving the manse soon enough in favour of returning to the markets, a trip he himself needed to make. He had also reacquired Phobos, the wolf pup now ruining their bed with his tiny claws and yipping at Marcus as he played with him. The man himself was dressed in a deep purple tunic with golden buttons, done up to just below his neck with the top two catches undone. His lower clothing consisted of matches pants, not quite hugging his legs, but sticking to the rough outline of them. His shoes were combat boots, ceremonial of course, with the hems of his pants tucked into them as they were designed to be. A blade sat sheathed on the bed beside him, with a glimmering blue power sphere embedded in the hilt, swirling and crackling with energy to fuel the energy edging that was no doubt present upon the weapon. He had gone all out for ceremony, to a degree, even having brought his Vigoris Gladius to bear for use in their trip. It would be impossible for anyone to mistake him for anything but a Praetorian, especially with the prominent ring so blatant upon his finger. Rising from the bed when she exited the bathroom, Marcus surrendered the tough chew toy he had been playing with Phobos over and the wolf puppy happily began gnawing on it, rolling over and ripping at the item viciously. It was almost disturbing how powerful the young beast's jaws were even at such a tender age, the creature yipping playfully, no longer baleful and quiet. Perhaps it was a brief show of exuberance, an instinct of safety; Marcus would not hurt the wolf, and Phobos had likely understood that perfectly. Smiling at Aemilia, Marcus himself acceded to her the examination from his eyes, watching her dress blatantly to award her a compliment by doing so. She was a fantastic sight. His pet, now done with the chew toy, began ravaging the sheets of the bed with his paws -- attacking the fabric with furore. Marcus ignored it, unconcerned. Once Aemilia had finished dressing, he smiled once more. "Would you like me to escort you somewhere, then, my dear? Market perhaps? I'm sure you wish to replace that dress I destroyed, and it would only be polite for me to treat you to a day of shopping. Perhaps we can also visit the Templum, and greet your siblings." |
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| Snitch | Oct 2 2011, 02:40 AM Post #37 |
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The fact that Marcus was watching her as she dressed was not lost on Aemilia, though she payed no attention to him whatsoever. What she did pay attention to, however, was Phobos; the dog had never once left her thoughts, and it made her skin prickle to have the creature so close. Of course, none of this showed as she went through the motions of getting dressed; only the most learned of men would be able to tell how uncomfortable the woman was in the kanine's presence. Once finished, Aemilia straightened, turning to eyes to Marcus for only the briefest of moments before moving her gaze to the pup playing on the bed. The way she regarded the young hound was similar to how a cat disdainfully watches a dog obey the commands of its master, and her nose wrinkled ever so slightly in a rather unladylike manner. She listened, however, as her host spoke, pondering his words carefully. Her head snapped up, however, at the mention of the Gardens and Templum within. Her sweet expression twisted into something more forced and much less amicable. "If you wish to visit my sisters, my lord, I would advise you to do it on your own time. I don't spend quite as much time at the Templum as you may think; my mindset differs a bit from that of my siblings. While they are content to bring love to the blissfully ignorant citizens of Rome, I find that my calling lies elsewhere." She had wandered over to the bedside as she spoke, picking up the ceremonial dagger that some servant had most likely brought from the arena after the couples' fit of passion the previous night, and, lifting her skirt, secured the blade and its sheath to her thigh where it remained tactfully hidden. Her golden armband was there as well, and this she secured on her upper arm as it had been the previous evening. The pup had paused in its playing to observe the woman. It sat up, letting out a puppyish yip, its pink tongue lolling out of its mouth. To the creature's surprise, Aemilia turned on it, baring her teeth and hissing like a cat at the young hound. Phobos seemed confused by the woman's behavior, though he growled softly in return, if only by instinct. Collecting herself once more, Aemilia faced Marcus, eyebrows slightly raised. "I have plenty of dresses at my villa, Marcus," she replied, forgetting for once to use his title to adress him. "You may escort me if you wish, but I assure you that I'm quite fine either way - besides, I have to go home and give the servants their instructions, in case I do not return home tonight. They are so dreadfully helpless without someone to guide them, the poor, stupid things." |
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| Lucien | Oct 2 2011, 10:11 PM Post #38 |
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Praetor
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Marcus raised his eyebrow at her reaction. How curious, the woman positively seethed when he mentioned the Templum Venus. That was something he would need to look into. Why was she so embittered towards the other children of her mother? Sibling jealously? He himself had never felt anything of the kind for those children of Mars he had met, only a familial relation that had him warm to them immediately. Of course, many were strange or obnoxious, or quiet, but they were all siblings of the same father -- and so, family. It was understandable about the children of the Goddess of Love, though, admittedly. Venus was famed for her temper, and jealously. She had cursed enough mortals for comparing themselves to her. Her reaction to Phobos was no less surprisingly, but more understandable. The wolf was a creature of war, not a beautiful feline or majestic domesticated dog. It was a predator, and likely, she could sense it. Moving over to the bed, he scratched Phobos behind the ears and murmured soothing words to the pup, who nipped playfully at his fingers -- scoring a slight cut unintentionally -- before flopping onto his side and promptly falling asleep. Marcus laughed quietly at the pup's leg twitched, the man turning away to face Aemilia with a gracious smile. "Of course, I would be honoured to escort you home. Please, lead the way. It will be good to see how you live your life, my lady." He could almost see her already at the ball, mingling a laughing. She was tempestuous and fickle, and no doubt had been prepared to leave and seek other company to occupy her bed and body that night. But he had dangled a carrot she could not resist, and now eyed hungrily. "Shall we go?" His red eyes held a warrior's impassive calm and his corded body was visible beneath his clothing. He was a soldier from birth, yet so subtle for one of Mars' brood. Hook, line and sinker. |
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| Snitch | Oct 2 2011, 10:27 PM Post #39 |
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Aemilia apparently did not notice his faint surprise at the cold way she spoke of her siblings. It mattered little either way; even if he did decide to look into her private affairs, she was quite convinced that he would find nothing of importance. Anything that was actually worth finding was hopefully hidden so far from prying eyes that even a Praetorian Guardsman could not find it... hopefully. Regardless, these thoughts barely even crossed her mind during her little encounter with Phobos, neither did they bother her when she turned to face him again. It was quite clear to her that Marcus was enjoying his victory. Aemilia paid his subtle gloating no mind, instead falling back into her usual grace and elegance and offering him a demure smile. "I believe you will find very little of my lifestyle at my villa; I rarely stay there, let alone spend the night. I must apologize in advance if it is not nearly as grand as your own manse. My father was merely a general, though he left me everything he had when he passed." As she spoke, she glided out of the room, assuming that he was to follow. It might almost be comical to anyone watching, the way that Aemilia led Marcus through his own home as if she had lived there her entire life, her head held high and a smirk curled on her features. Everywhere this woman went, a pompous air followed in her footsteps. |
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| Lucien | Oct 2 2011, 11:27 PM Post #40 |
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Praetor
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A general? Now that was an unexpected development. So she was used to military men, that was something worth noting. Her understanding of his nature seemed suddenly so much more clear. She knew his kind from birth. He couldn't suppress a faint smile. There was Marcus, thinking that she was divinely enlightened, when it was simply a matter of nature and nurture conjoining. How deliciously simple. He was no schemer nor tactician, but even he could appreciate the intricacies of her half-truths. She never lied, but what she omitted often had such far-reaching effects on their relationship as people. How much he had learned from her, and still more to come. It was quite thrilling. And then she conducted herself out of his room like a queen, and he found himself smiling in amusement when she clearly expected him to accompany her. Humbly, he followed her out of his apartments. Marcus had been trained from a young age to protect and serve, and if she wished to conduct herself as a queen, who was he to stand in her path? Servants bowed, whether to her or Marcus was unclear, and continued about their duties as they passed by. Here and there, Marcus had quiet words with higher ranking members of his house staff before catching up to Aemilia's gliding pace. Was she heading for the roof and his transport? It would make sense, but then again, women rarely made much of that. |
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