Gloria Perpetua |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 18 2011, 06:47 PM (848 Views) | |
| Snitch | Oct 3 2011, 12:05 AM Post #41 |
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That was, in fact, precisely where Aemilia was heading. The night prior she had spent a good amount of time exploring the massive villa, and in her travels had found herself out on the roof. Marcus' means of transportation certainly were extravegant compared to her own - she generally preferred to go on foot, but would now and again hire a chauffeur or something of the sort to take her to her destination - but this was hardly a surprise coming from a Guard. Now, as she roamed the grand halls and staircases of the manse, Aemilia ignored the servants when they humbly bowed to her and her companion, or when they stared with open awe as her radiant presence seemed to fill the area. Aemilia and Marcus were both a sight to behold by themselves, but together the two demi-gods cast an air of divinity with them wherever they went, turning heads and raising eyebrows of all who spared them a glance. She navigated his home with relative ease, and soon they were up upon the roof, her thick silken hair ruffled slightly by the breeze. Here she paused, allowing him to lead the way to the vehicle that would take them to her villa. For a second time now she settled herself gracefully into the passenger seat, her gaze fixated out the window as the two of them soared through traffic, back into the bustle of the city, Aemilia now and again speaking up in soft tones to offer him directions. The demi-goddess never looked directly at Marcus during their trip, preferring instead to watch the city pass them by. It was almost curious how much she loved to fly, and how rarely she got to do it. The trip was a short one, and it was not long before they arrived at their destination. With a gentle gesture Aemilia directed him where to land, finally lifting her gaze to look at her home. It rose out of the streets like a shining monument to times long past. The style was decidedly Roman, as was natural, and the buildings were old, having stood in the midst of these streets for centuries. It was, of course, not nearly as grand as Marcus' abode, but it was certainly no middle-class home. Statues of Venus and generals who had died long ago decorated the courtyard, some so old that their features had been worn off by wind and time. They towered like feature-less protectors of the villa. A gnarled olive tree cast shade over a stood bench set a good ways from the main house, and the various pathways leading to servants' quarters and the main entrance were surrounded by exotic flowers that were rarely seen in these parts of the world. Aemilia barely spared the flora a second glance as she made her way down the main walkway, though when they arrived at the brass door she reached up and plucked an orchid from its hanging box, setting the flower in her hair. The doors opened as if by their own accord, though of course it was merely a result of the ever vigilant servants sensing the arrival of the mistress of the house. The interior of the main house was drastically different from the outside. Here, everything was immaculate and shining, but looked almost untouched. The decor was similar to that of Marcus' own home, walls decorated with weapons, plaques and paintings of ancient generals. It was clear that the daughter of Venus had barely touched the interior of the place since her father's passing. Everything looked unused, hinting at the possibility that Aemilia rarely brought guests back to her home. This image was enhanced by the fact that the main hallway seemed entirely devoid of human presence. No servants walked about their business as they had outside; the entire place was filled with a profound silence that would have been enough to raise the hairs on the back of anyone's neck. Even as the doors slid open soundlessly on their hinges, a growl echoed through the otherwise silent hallway. A relatively large staircase stood at the end of the hallway, the steps covered in soft velvet. As the two stood in the doorway, a pair of paws, and then a sleek head, and a lean body, all clad in the most striking pattern of black spots appeared from one of the darkened room entrances and make its way silently down the stairs. It was a jaguar, and it had its striking eyes fixated on Aemilia. Down he came, finally making his way way down the stairwell and onto the shining wooden floor, his movements silent as a phantoms'. He did not rush at the pair, nor did he looks as if he meant either of them any particular harm, but of course, such things could rarely be seen in a jungle cat. Aemilia stepped forward a few paces, seperating herself from her guest, and slowly, carefully, descended onto one knee, extending one slender hand towards the deadly predator. The cat approached, rubbing her sleek head against her outstretched fingers. The creature seemed almost hypnotized on her; it seemed that Aemila's charm extended into the animal kingdom as well as that of men. After a long moment of silence, Aemilia stood, the jaguar with her, and turned. She spread her hands in an extravegant gesture, offering Marcus a small smile. "Welcome to my humble adobe, son of Mars," she said softly, as the cat opened his maw in a massive yawn, revealing inch-long, razor sharp teeth. |
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| Lucien | Oct 3 2011, 01:33 AM Post #42 |
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Praetor
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Marcus had never truly been comfortable flying. He was a soldier, his place was in the ranks on the earth, defending the Caesar, or bringing placation to an unenlightened nation. At that moment, he almost missed the power armour waiting dormant in his manse, ready to be donned at need or want. The attire was standard for Praetorian Guards, but it was his and thus, he felt affection and ownership of the gear quite profoundly. Serving in the Guard was an honour he had been working towards his entire life. His time in the academy in Bellum Per had taught him the required mentality, but it was his time amidst the people that had taught him his behaviour patterns. When they arrived at Aemilia's manse, he raised an eyebrow at the villa. It felt so... empty, as if it was nothing but a tomb, a shrine to days gone and done to dust. Eyes finding interest in the weapons collecting no dust, yet seeming so abandoned, he moved as if to more closely examine a pair of swords when movement caught the corner of his eyes. He slowed to a careful halt when the jaguar appeared and watched unblinkingly as Aemilia interacted with it. Unlike the daughter of Venus, he had only one weapon against lesser beasts: animal instinct. It was often the case with children of Mars that they exuded a sense of danger and power, an inexplicable sense that they were the dominant predators in any situation. Unless directly in the presence of a child of Jupiter, Neptune or Pluto, the progeny of Mars were the most dangerous creatures present and the animals recognised it by some primal intuition. Thereby unafraid, Marcus approached Aemilia and her pet, hand outstretched for the creature to catch his scent. He was confident in not only his divine abilities, but his ability to heal should anything less than lethal harm come to him. So he stood, and waited, for the creature's reaction. |
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| Snitch | Oct 3 2011, 11:47 PM Post #43 |
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It was probably a good thing that Aemilia was still standing where she was, in between the jungle cat and the demi-god of war. As Marcus turned to eye the two, a sudden change came over the usually docile beast; his ears pinned back against the side of his head, and he let out a ferocious growl, showing his teeth at the man. Clearly, the animal was afraid; but as is the way with large predators, rather than flee, the jaguar looked as if he were about to attack in an attempt to defend himself from a threat that he himself could not identify. The scene was cut short, however, by a slight twitch of Aemilia's hand. Immediately, her pet seemed to fall under the same enchantment that he had previous been entranced by. His ears still pinned back threateningly, the creature skulked away, its remarkable eyes never once leaving Marcus' imposing form. His spotted coat eventually disappeared through a darkened doorway, leaving only the two demi-gods in the room. Aemilia raised a brow, looking only slightly displeased by this display of dominance. Rather than say anything of the incident, however, the woman merely turned, making her way up the velvet staircase almost as silently as the cat had, her dress trailing behind her slightly. She did not seem to care if he decided to follow her or not. A number of doorways stood, large and imposing, at the top of the staircase, but in the center another, slightly narrower hallway led further into the building. It was this that Aemilia took. Some doors stood open, revealing the contents of the rooms beyond. One in particular seemed to catch the eye; the door, standing almost entirely open, was lined with long claw marks, reaching almost from the ceiling all the way to the floor. Beyond the threshold a large master bedroom could be seen. The sparse decor and weaponry hanging on the walls indicated that this was a man's room, most likely that of Aemilia's late father. What was most striking about it, however, was the disaray it was in. Bedclothes were thrown off and torn on the ground, pillows had their contents strewn all over the room. A sofa in one corner looked as if a set of rather large and powerful claws had been using it as a scratching post. The room looked as if it had been standing like this for a long time. No servants could be seen anywhere in the vicinity. Aemilia did not look at this room as they passed, but continued down the hall. Finally, they came to the end of hall. Here, a set of doors opened into a relatively large suit. This was clearly Aemilia's part of the house. Here, a maid was scuttling about, doing her duties. One look from the mistress of the house dismissed her, and sent her scurrying away with her head down. Silk drapings hid the large bed from view (not quite as big as Marcus', since it seemd clear that Aemilia only spent nights by herself here), and a large vanity dominated one corner of the room. Without so much as hesitating, the daughter of Venus strode over to the over-sized armoir, throwing up the doors to reveal and extravegant array of dresses and gowns. She seemed to have already made up her mind, for she reached up and picked a cream colored one-shouldered dress, slightly reminiscent of traditional Roman style, from the mess. She turned, the skirt trailing on the ground, to Marcus, one eyebrow raised. "This will do, yes? I personally think it's rather modest." |
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