Cynane

• Quote

  She's a killer queen...

• Face Claim

  Katheryn Winnick

• Location

  Rome (regrettably)

Recent Posts

1. 

   Run

   June 4

   Cynane chuckled when Charis called her too nice and then promised she’d do all the chores once they were safe, “And what I’m supposed to do then?” She added with a grin, although she could imagine she’d be working, somehow. What would a woman do for a living in Britannia? Would they accept female bodyguards, now that the Romans had come and worked on imprinting their way of living on the people there? It was for certain she didn’t want to do some kind of women’s job. She wasn’t made for that, ever. She was more comfortable in her breeches than skirts and she doubted that would change.
    She’d been lost in her thoughts a bit, just like Charis seemed to be. Most importantly, or almost most importantly, Cynane would have to get rid of her slave brand to begin with. Else she’d be caught for sure, branded a fugitive (a second brand!) and brought back into slavery, unless they’d just execute her and make an example of her. Fucking Romans. She had to get rid of the brand.
    She told Charis about her issues with the brand on her arm and wondered if she’d help her. Charis had never been branded and then suggested she made a salve for Cynane, once she’d done something about the brand. Charis didn’t think it looked too bad, because she’d seen worse. But accidents in a blacksmith weren’t quite the same as someone intentionally holding down a slave to burn their skin in front of all the others. She rarely thought about the day it happened, but it was certainly not forgotten. It had hurt for weeks, both the scar and the shame. Thankfully it didn’t get infected. The medicus had given her a salve against infection, but only once and it didn’t take much of the pain. And now she had to remove it on her own. She inhaled a small breath, if only she could erase all that happened to her since she was captured. If only both of them could. She blinked and looked up at Charis when she squeezed her hand.
    “A fresh start… for both of us. All three of us. That’s what I want.” She said with a small, sad smile, “I think I’ll cut it, then you can stitch it and it’ll just look like another battle scar.”
   @Sara
   
2. 

   You Should See Me in a Crown

   June 4

   She almost felt like a young girl again, for some reason. Like the day of the betrothal party for her cousin and she’d met Eppitacos… just a young girl, inexperienced and naive. Now she wasn’t that, but Sosia stirred something in her and she could not explain it. Of course she noticed how Sosia too stole a glance in her direction and she wondered if the other woman felt the same. Maybe it was just the wine that made her feel like this? She was rarely, if ever, drunk. Not that she felt very drunk now either, but she did feel a little bit tipsy.  
   Sosia quietly came into the water too then, sinking into the water, letting out a small and satisfied gasp with closed eyes. Cynane watched her. Gods! Was it really just the wine? Then Sosia opened her eyes and dismissed her slaves, leaving her alone with Cynane. Speaking of how she had never learned how to swim and then she made some small joke about growing up surrounded by water.
    Cynane smiled, “We didn’t leave near the ocean though… Britannia is a large area. We did have lakes and streams though. We did bathe, and swim. We aren’t dirty barbarians as some Romans seem to think…” She stopped herself, she said too much, her tongue was too free tonight, “Apologies, I didn’t mean you, of course. You don’t seem to be like most Romans.”
   @Sara
   
3. 

   You Should See Me in a Crown

   May 28

   It was bold of her to ask Sosia to join her, even if she tried to make it sound like it would just be a waste of water if she didn’t. Cynane was a slave, she should not request such things, but she thought Sosia was beautiful and sweet and maybe even someone she’d like to… well, what would she like to do with her? Cynane had more than once daydreamed about Claudia. She was young compared to Cynane, so sometimes it felt wrong, even if she wasn’t a child anymore. But Claudia was her mistress and a princess. She would never dream of suggesting that Claudia shared her bath. Sosia was different, she thought. More down to Earth, somehow. And she sensed Sosia liked her too. Maybe it could be more than just a daydream?
    She watched Sosia, as the other bit her lip and just quietly then invited Cynane further inside the house. She didn’t care what it looked like, she didn’t grow up in luxury, after all. Or, it was a bit luxurious for a woman of the Brigantes, but for the Romans, it was nothing. It didn’t matter what Sosia’s domus looked like. She didn’t care. She cared about what Sosia would do, right now. She made the bold request. Now she was anxious to find out what would happen next. Gods, she felt like a young girl! It was stupid… but also kind of nice.
    They arrived at the atrium and moments later, moving on towards the bath of the house. They arrived and Sosia said it would be a waste of water.  Cynane couldn’t help but smile a little bit, and then some slaves stepped up to help Sosia undress. Well she was a free Roman. Cynane had undressed near other women before, in the public baths and as a gladiatrix too. She wasn’t shy about her body, not really. Quietly she removed the wine-stained clothes and placed them in a stack on the floor. The long braid she had, she folded up and tucked into itself, so her hair wouldn’t be too wet. And then she turned and stepped towards the warm bath, suddenly unsure of what to say. She tried not to look at Sosia… tried, and failed a little. She had a body as beautiful as her face. But Cynane didn’t look up until she was all the way underneath the water. It felt nice. What now?
   @Sara
   
4. 

   Being Stupid Is An Art

   May 19

   It would be easier and simpler to just forget where you came from, but it wasn’t what Cynane had wanted to do, ever. She was still a proud Briton, even after all these years. And she didn’t want to see a proud man from her own tribe just wither away here in Rome. He promised her then he’d never forget and she smiled at his smile, unable to stop it before it happened. But then they agreed to move on and she picked up his chainmail shirt with ease. She tried to make some conversation, asked about the carving.
    But he said he’d only carved two things in five years now, and the one she held in her hand was one of them, “That makes even more precious.” She replied to him, and he talked about how he’d be fixed well enough, because he would always heal. Then he added he might come back to the Imperial family for more fights and wondered if she’d watch… and he wanted to learn from her and know that one of his own might witness his death. She looked at him.
    “I hope I won’t have to. You fight well, Owyn… you put on a show. They don’t waste the good ones. I hope they understand that you’re one of those.” She said. Not all gladiators fought until they died. Some were freed, some were given a rudis. Some ended up in other positions, like herself.
    “But… when all that is said. I think I would not be upset if you came back to fight again.” And then she could walk him home again. Gods, she felt like a young girl or something, when she thought like that. She usually never felt like that. She stole a sideways glance at him, wondering what this was. Whatever it was. What was it?
   @Knight
   
5. 

   You Should See Me in a Crown

   May 19

   Why did she feel kind of disappointed, when Sosia said that her slaves would help Cynane with the clothes and everything? Because Sosia was sweet and kind and nice to talk to. And there was something about her, with her curly, dark hair and the dark skin. Cynane liked it. The contrast between that and her own, pale skin and hair. It was so different. Sosia was beautiful. But of course, she was a free woman, married even, so she would not be helping a mere slave with anything more than she’d already done. Helping out with the guy at the show. And then sharing wine with Cynane. But that was enough, of course. More than Cynane could have asked for.
    They soon enough arrived at Sosia’s domus and while Sosia was offered a hand to leave the litter, Cynane awkwardly climbed out on her own. She really wasn’t used to sitting inside of them. The fresh air was nice. Sosia smiled at her, not meeting her eyes though and inside they went. She spoke to one of the slaves, but she also seemed oddly nervous. Sosia asked the slave that a bath was prepared for Cynane and new clothes were brought out. In her style, it seemed. Or, as much as it could be anyway. At last Sosia turned to her again.
    “I’d like that.” Cynane replied, another drink with Sosia sounded nice. Just spending more time with her, was a nice thought. It was then she had an idea, maybe it was bold, she was a slave, she should not be asking, but she could find a way, could she not? She wasn’t a young woman anymore… “You wouldn’t like to refresh yourself too? It’s a lot, having a bath prepared just for a slave like me.” She said, indirectly inviting Sosia to join her. Hoping Sosia didn’t think she overstepped, but with how she’d been so far, she didn’t think it was too much. She looked at Sosia, smiled a bit, “It would be a pity to let all that warm water go to waste.”
   @Sara
   
6. 

   Run

   May 19

   Cynane nodded to Charis pointing out, that the Romans probably couldn’t tell a British accent from a Gaul, so they wouldn’t stick out so much, once they got that far. It had been a while since they’d been near any town though, but she assumed they had come far away from Rome by now, “You’re right… we’ll stick out less the further away from Rome we get.” She agreed and had wondered if she should teach Charis how to tell which direction they were going in. Since her friend didn’t seem to know. Charis smiled and confirmed she’d like to learn it and then went on about how Cynane did not need to cook for them, since she did more or less everything else too.
    “Don’t think about it. I didn’t want to wake you… and I thought you’d be hungry once you were up.” She said and with her small knife she picked up one of the edible roots she’d been roasting on a flat piece of stone placed on top of the embers in the quickly made fireplace. She reached it over towards Charis, who was shifting with Peregrinus now. And then she’d glanced at her arm and the slave brand there, which she really should consider getting rid off.
    “I guess… this?” She pushed the sleeve of her tunica a bit further up to properly show the old brand that she got when she became a gladiator. It had once been a letter, she couldn’t remember which. It was brightened by the sun long ago, barely had the right shape, but you could tell it wasn’t a natural part of the skin either, “I’m thinking about removing it. Or branding something else on top, something less… slave-like. I guess you don’t have one. Would you help me with it?” Charis’ master had done terrible things to her, but at least he never branded her, as far as Cynane knew. Cynane had been feisty enough to be taught a lesson when she was a young and wild Briton in Rome. And she still wore the mark of that lesson.
   @Sara
   
7. 

   You Should See Me in a Crown

   April 27

   Sosia was very kind. And Cynane sat in a litter with her and she was slightly drunk. Was Sosia the same? It didn’t matter. Here they were, as the other woman had insisted that Cynane sat in the litter instead of walking. When Cynane accidentally brushed her foot against Sosia, the other woman smiled shyly, saying she didn’t like sitting in litters really. She tried to inch away, but there really wasn’t much space. It would actually be easier if they didn’t face each other, Cynane thought. Sosia could lean against her instead. But they didn’t know each other that well.
    She tried to focus on Sosia’s words. She spoke of walking and how she could not ride a horse. Cynane smiled, “It’s really not so hard. I ride with my mistress sometimes.” Although Claudia hadn’t been wanting to go for rides often lately, not after the incident with the attack. She’d never forget though, Claudia’s dress clinging to her body as she had been covered with blood. It was strangely attractive. It shouldn’t be, but it was. She shifted a bit, thinking about that. Now the litter slowed down though and Sosia spoke of getting out of the wet clothes and into something better to wear.
    “That sounds good.” She said, “It’s begun to dry though… that’s not good. I know wine stains can be hard to get off.” Would she stay until they were clean and dry, her clothes? Where would she sleep? She looked at Sosia, wondering what was on her mind. She did hear how the other corrected herself after speaking about wet clothes. Cynane was on the verge of saying or suggesting something probably stupid, but she wasn’t sure. And she was usually never uncertain about anything. How to say it best? “I expect you’ll be helping me? Not that you have to… but it would be nice.” She didn’t think she’d mind Sosia seeing her naked. The other woman had been very kind to her and although it was strangely awkward, she enjoyed spending time with her. And she was very pretty. Gods, was she really going there? Had she really been without proper comfort for so long?
   @Sara
   
8. 

   Being Stupid Is An Art

   April 18

   Standing here, leaning against a wall, just talking to Owyn… it felt nice. Cynane had almost forgotten why they stood here – because they would remove his chainmail because his collarbone hurt, after the fight at the palace. The chainmail rested by their feet on the ground, one of them would have to carry it the rest of the way, but it didn’t matter who did it. Cynane had to stay in shape too, to protect the princess. She wasn’t weak. She was never weak. Apparently except in moments like these, with Owyn, when he suddenly gifted her a carving of an almost forgotten part of her past. It touched her deeply, more than he probably knew.
    She told him he didn’t have to give it to her, which he confirmed, but then he pressed his hand around hers. His was rougher than hers, larger… warm. Gods why did she feel so touched by all of this? This wasn’t what she was here to do… or feel. He said he wanted her to have it, so she would never forget their home. She looked up at him, “As long as you promise me, that you won’t forget either. Never forget where you came from, Owyn. They have done nothing to deserve your submission.” She said, there was a confidence and a pride in her voice, although she felt it was on the verge of breaking, but it didn’t. Thank the gods it didn’t! She would have been embarrassed.
    She suggested they kept on walking, because this was almost too much for her. Cynane was always alert and hard and silent, because that’s what she had to be. Owyn brought out something else in her. It was unexpected and she didn’t know what to do. Owyn agreed with her and pushed away from the wall. Cynane picked up the chainmail and followed him.
    “I hope they’ll be able to fix you properly.” She said while they now walked again, the heavy chainmail resting over one arm and the little carving was in her other hand. She had a leather purse she could place it in, but not yet. She liked holding it, “Do you make many carvings like the one you gave me?”
   @Knight
   
9. 

   Being Stupid Is An Art

   April 15

   Back in Britannia, when she was young, it had almost been a big deal that she was related to Ysulda. And if she had not been captured, they probably would have married her off to some nobleman either from their own people or another tribe. She would have been part of an alliance and once she had kids, life as a warrior would have ended. If she had kids. Cynane had a vague idea that she might not be able to, but she rarely thought about it. It wasn’t on the table anyway. And right now, talking with Owyn was much more interesting. She told him how she got captured and how she knew Eppitacos and Owyn agreed that they owed Eppitacos nothing.
    She smiled sadly at his words, “Maybe it is… a lifetime away.” It felt like it. She had been young, when she came here. Now she had lived more than 30 summers and winters. She didn’t feel so young anymore. She was in her own thoughts, not seeing what Owyn was doing, until he suddenly offered her a little figurine, a little carving that seemed somewhat familiar.  
   Cynane took it, thinking he’d just show it to her, but then he began talking and it sounded like he would gift it to her. She was surprised. It was very fine work, the carving, even beautiful, and it reminded her of home. Owyn called her royalty and the figurine was his tribute to her. He was smiling as he spoke and Cynane curled her fingers around the carving, hiding it in the palm of her hand. Owyn was really being too kind. She’d spoken so harshly to him to begin with. She didn’t deserve this.
    “You don’t have to give it to me. I don’t need any tribute…” She said, this was so unexpected and she felt touched in a way she rarely did. Cynane wasn’t sure about what to say or what to do. And she usually always was.  
   “Maybe we should keep on walking…” But she made no move to leave the archway yet. Just turned the little carving between her fingers.
   @Knight
   
10. 

    Run

    April 15

    She was sweet when she did that, just wanting to sleep in, but there was no such thing as sleeping in, when you were a slave on the run from your master. The sooner they got further away, the better... because the further away they got, the better! Cynane smiled at her friend though, who eventually cracked open one eye and bid her a good morning. She reached out for her son and then joked about their walk, "Yes, it's as good a day for walking. I think we should take a stroll." She replied with a little laugh, while Charis caressed her son and didn't get up yet. Instead she wondered where they were and feared they were moving the wrong way. 
    "We're heading North, because that's the way Britannia is." Cynane said, "I believe we're going to reach Gaul soon. Then we can hopefully find a wagon or something, make it easier to travel." She said and looked at her arm. She really had to get rid of the slave-brand that was on there, that she got when she was a fresh gladiatrix in Rome. They'd see the scar though, if she cut it off. Maybe she should burn something else on top of it instead. It would hurt, but it might be worth it. As far as Cynane was concerned, they were no longer slaves. They were escaping, they'd run away and they did that to be free. So they were free. 
    "Do you want me to teach you how to see the direction?" She asked, "Once you're up, of course. There's a little to eat if you're hungry. And there's a stream not far from here." She smiled at Charis, wanting to make this trip as easy for her as possible, because Charis also had Perry to think about. 
    @Sara
    

Topics I Participated In

1. 

   Being Stupid Is An Art

   Started by Marius · April 12

   Why the fuck did they always stick him against big Germans?!
   Here he was, rented out to perform for the very finest of his captors, and he was losing. The bugger was three inches taller, about six wider, and he was wielding a bronze axe that probably cost more than...than Owyn did, actually. He'd smashed up Owyn's collarbone, the links of his ringmail just barely holding, so now the Briton was looking like he was going to be out of it. The haze of combat was still right up inside him, so most of the pain was a buzz in the back of his skull. The spectators weren't the rough sort - they didn't cheer, but you could see them thinking about whether or not to let Owyn live.
   Bad news, but the German had lost, he just didn't know it.
   See, Owyn had got a nick to his back leg near the start of the match. Now he could see the wound opening up more and more, and the brute's left foot was starting to drag. Owyn was right handed. Didn't take a fool to work out what came next.
   
   The German came up high in a big swing, Owyn traversed to his right, and leapt past the man's left shoulder. As he did, he switched his sword to his left and lanced out at the other gladiator's kneecap. It hurt like everliving fuck, with his collar screaming across his chest, but it was worth it. Usually, a decent fighter could get their leg out the way, but not this time. Owyn felt muscle and sinew give way beneath his tip, and it was all done. The German was down to one knee, bleeding like a pig, and becoming faint.
   A look, a signal, and that was that. His opponent had been allowed to live, and 'Marius' saluted his hosts with one arm, and was dismissed.
   But now? NOW HE HAD TO FUCKING WALK BACK.
   
   He was removed to a slave's quarters to wait for his escort back to the Ludus, and he didn't bother to remove his chainmail. They'd taken his sword off him, and bound a few of his cuts. Once he got back, he'd acknowledge the pain. Until then? Best just to sigh and pretend to be a big dumb animal.
   @Atrice
    
   
2. 

   How We Met

   Started by Tarbus · April 3

   April, 76 CE
   “Tst, tst…” Tarbus gave the headstall a shake with his good hand, to get the stallion’s attention. He spoke gruffly to him in Dacian. “Stop being an asshole. You’re not going to get to fuck her so just keep your dick to yourself!” He gave the stallion’s flank a flick with the tip of the lead, making the animal side-step skittishly, its partially released member swinging pendulously as its hooves beat a little tattoo on the stone flags of the yard.
   
   
    
   On the far side of the stable area, a mare in heat pranced, aware in her own way that she was garnering interest and causing a ruckus. She too might be receptive to some four footed frolicking but that was not going to happen. Typically, mares in heat were not brought to the stables at the circus, just for this very reason. Someone must have screwed up and miscalculated her cycle. Tarbus wished he knew who to thank for this added headache to his day. He chucked the lead strap once more, moving his hand closer to the halter, just in case the amorous racer decided to give him any trouble.
   
   
    
   The horse leapt a bit, this time towards the slave, but Tarbus stood his ground and muscled the knucklehead, with their shoulders pressed hard against each other, man to beast. “The gods take you! Be still!” Tarbus grumbled sternly, as the groom approached once again, in their combined effort to get the excited animal harnessed and ready to be brought together with the rest of the team. In this the two men were falling behind, and that was never a good thing.
   
   
    
   Suddenly, the mare nickered, a true ‘come hither’ call. The stallion reared, cowkicked – narrowly missing the groom’s head – and plunged forward, almost knocking Tarbus, cursing, to the ground. But he managed to keep his feet and was running after the horny animal, trying to grab the leather lead that flapped in the air, while those many people in the yard jumped to the left and to the right trying to avoid the fractious creature, who trumpeted his love song to the heavens.
   
   
3. 

   Run

   Started by Charis · February 21

   Peregrinus was against her chest, tied to her with a piece of fabric wound over him and around her back, finishing with a knot at her waist. The six month old boy seemed unperturbed by it, and it had the benefit of keeping her hands free - something she sorely needed. In one hand she carried a rough woven sack filled with blankets and cloth for Peregrinus, and in another bag slung over her shoulder she carried a spare tunica for herself, what little food she'd been able to swipe and a wineskin filled with water. She was shrouded in a cloak, but besides that and the bags she carried and her son, that was all she had in the world. She bit back bile at the thought. 
   It was late, or was it early? Somewhere after midnight, either way, but the streets of Rome were full of laughter and merriment of some festival that Charis had never learned the name of. She looked a little out of place; child strapped to her body and lugging her bags, but the city was full of unusual sights and most people paid her little heed. She drew to the appointed spot, at the gate leading out to the via Flaminia. What are you doing. Cynane wasn't here, she should be here by now, shouldn't she? Charis was sure she was already late and her courage was failing her. She shouldn't have done this, she shouldn't even be thinking about it - she was positive that even the thought of escape warranted crucifixion. She felt the bile rise in her throat again and fought the urge to be ill. Hold your nerve.
   This hadn't been planned for long, only a matter of weeks ago she had been contented enough in her life - Peregrinus was growing, strong and healthy and things with Tertius were a little less awkward and then she had met with Cynane and it had all unravelled. The thought of trying to do this, be here, forever without her friend - who was so determined to leave and forge her way back to Britannia...Charis could have cried - and she was not a cryer by nature! The image of her son, growing up free and happy and healthy in the wilds and forests and fields of her homeland, away from his fathers pervasive, insidious influence, with her - and not just her as a slave, her as a free woman and his mother...it was too much for her to refuse. She had agreed, and now here she stood. But the nagging doubt did not escape her and the longer she waited in silence, alone, the more she wanted to turn on her heel and make haste back to the domus. Where are you Cynane. 
    
   TAG: @Atrice
   
4. 

   You Should See Me in a Crown

   Started by Cynane · October 15, 2020

   September, 75AD
   Evening in Rome. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing out this late, honestly she ought to head home to the palace – but Claudia was probably already sleeping and Volusa lay there too somewhere and the praetorians guarded her door. Cynane wasn’t in a hurry yet. She’d been visiting a bath house and was taking a long way back to the palace. The sun went down as she walked and people came out in the streets. Some had finished the day’s work, others were just beginning.
   In an open square where a few streets met, a stage had been set up and actors were getting ready to perform some kind of play. Benches had been set up in front of it and Cynane stopped, curious. It was rare she got to see these things. Some wealthy senators squeezed their way past her and sat down on the front rows and Cynane took a seat in one of the back rows, by the end of a bench so she could easily get up and walk away.
   The play began. A fisherman’s wife was waiting for her husband to come home from the sea, but he didn’t come and what was a lonely woman to do then, when higher ranked men wanted her attention? Cynane rolled her eyes, well, that woman was to kick their crotch and tell them to go find someone else, she thought to herself. But people around her were amused and she thought she better be on her way. That’s when a man came to her side, pushing his way in to set next to her by the end of the bench. He was larger than her. Much larger.
   Cynane stared at the stage, lifting her chin as she did it, “Well well, a barbarian woman!” The man said, looking at her. She was dressed in her preferred clothes, breeches and a thigh-long tunica, not very feminine at all. The most feminine was probably her long braid down the back. Meanwhile the man... was clearly drunk, “I never had a barbarian before… not one who actually looks like one…” He said with a grin and placed a hand on her thigh. Cynane inhaled a breath, glaring at him, “Get your hand off me!” She bit back, pushing at his hand with hers, but he didn’t stop there. Instead he caught her wrist and held it tight… “Uh she talks! And fights!” He laughed and stood, “I like it…” He said while attempting to drag Cynane with him. Fuck! She tried to jerk her hand away from his, thinking she could probably easily use some kind of attack to get him away, but the square was crowded and she was, after all, just a slave.  
   @Sara
   
5. 

   A New Beginning

   Started by Sara · August 23, 2020

   20th of August, 75AD
   It had started an hour ago. A dull ache in her back that woke her up from her sleep and wouldn't settle. It wasn't excruciating, but it ached. By the time the hour was up, the ache had morphed into an odd sort of...pressure that couldn't quite be explained or articulated, every ten or perhaps twenty minutes that gripped her belly - deep inside. She knew enough to know that this might be the beginning. She was not due for two, or three more weeks but the midwives had warned her that with her size an early labour was not to be unexpected. She felt the waves of fear crash over her as she sat cross legged on her bed, trying to breathe through the gripping sensation as the other two girls in the room snored in their slumber, oblivious. She felt breathless, and not just from the discomfort, but from the panic that consumed her. She felt flushed, hot and trapped. It couldn't be now could it? She wasn't ready, she hadn't sent word to Cynane or her sister, she hadn't put plans in place if...if things did not go well. She choked and Jocasta stopped her snoring, but mercifully didn't wake. She couldn't stay here. 
   As the waves of the pressure settled again, she carefully and quietly pushed herself up from her cot and padded gently from the room into the chill of the early morning. It must have been still well before dawn - the sky was an inky black, but there was a bright moon and she found herself following the familiar route into the garden. One arm cupped her bump and the other reached out to the columns to settle herself, not out of pain - that had stopped for now - but from the fear overtaking her. 
   She finally made it outside on unsteady feet with flushed cheeks and moved to sit on the bench. She glanced about the place, deserted in the dead of night and tried to ignore the memories of all that had happened out here; praying to her Gods (where were they now?), that first taste of a relationship with Tertius, playing with Antonia, arguing with Teutus...everything that had happened to her here had started from the garden. Maybe that was why she was drawn here now? She must have been sat there for a little while as the pressure, the gripping pain started again and she winced, reaching out one hand so her fingers clasped the stone of the bench and she let out breathless little mewls of discomfort. As she breathed through it (dreading that this was only the beginning, and the pain would get so much worse), she didn't realise somebody else was approaching. 
    
   TAG: @Atrice
   
6. 

   Another World, Another Time

   Started by Atrice · August 17, 2020

   60 AD
   Cinnia had finished her training for the day early on, so that she could ready for this party. Gone were now the spears, the shields and the swords and the armor. Instead she had been dressed up, which didn’t happen all that often. She’d always been more comfortable in the convenient clothes for battle, rather than the inconvenient dresses they made her wear for occasions like this. But her father, Owen, had told her not long ago that there was a great celebration to attend for everyone who mattered in the Brigantes tribe. And that included her family, for Owen’s brother was the King of the Brigantes. And now it would be made official, that the princess Ysulda – Cinnia's cousin – was to marry one Eppitacos, the new and young King of the Catuvellauni. And so she would be wearing a dress.
   She had not really met him before, but of course she’d heard about his victories and she was curious to see this young man, who was now suddenly king of one of the other tribes. She wore a light blue dress over her white and light flax shift this afternoon. Around her waist was a leather-belt with a very finely made belt buckle. Her hair had been done up on her head and her sisters had put flowers in her hair, even!
   Together, the whole family arrived to the celebration of Eppitacos and Ysulda. There was a feast, food to be had and drinks to be had. Cinnia was 16 years old and of course she had attended weddings and celebrations and the festivals that marked the wheel of the year, but this was different. She got the sense that this really mattered. She stood together with her own family, not far from the most important couple tonight, when Ysulda's father declared the betrothal official and the druids would declare it sacred. Together, the two tribes would now stand against their common enemy, Rome. And together, they would defeat Rome and send them back to the hellhole they came from!
   Afterwards, the proper festivities began and Cinnia suddenly found that her brother and her sisters had drifted from here. And there he was, suddenly, not so far from her. The young king Eppitacos. She looked at him over the edge of her cup of mead, he wasn’t too bad looking at all. Ysulda was lucky, she thought. She was betrothed to a King, who was also known as a warrior and he was good looking. He had it all, didn’t he? Would she ever be so lucky and marry such a man? One could only hope he was nice too. And now he was looking her way. Gods, this was stupid. As if she stood a chance, when he was already claimed by her cousin.
   @Chris
   
7. 

   No Boundaries

   Started by Atrice · June 20, 2020

   July, 75 AD
   For how long had she been coming here now? Last time she saw Charis in person was in February, before she attempted to get rid of the child. It had been months now since she last saw her friend and she supposed most people would have given up by now. But not Cynane. She did not give up on her friend, not when she had promised she would be there when Charis needed her. And so here she was, again, standing opposite the home of Tertius Quinctilius Varus, where Charis lived. She hadn’t tried to approach anyone from the house, not since she met Teutus, who had been entirely unhelpful. Such a friend he was!
   She still hadn’t seen Charis though and she came here every week, on the same day they used to meet and around the same hour. Nothing had changed when it came to that. But there had been no sign of her friend and she didn’t wait as long as she once had. Maybe it was pointless. Maybe she should give up and return to the palace and come back next week…
   But then, just as she was about to turn away once more, a petite figure left the domus and it was a figure that was easily recognizable – even with the bump she had, she was quite a few months pregnant now, wasn’t she? Cynane felt slightly bad for having almost scolded Charis for wanting to get rid of the child. It wasn’t a child of love, after all. And her friend almost died because she didn’t want it – but now she was having it anyway.
   She almost felt shy, as she decided to approach her friend. She walked closer, hoping Charis would see her, unless she had forgotten everything. She didn’t seem to notice Cynane, so she approached her and touched her shoulder gently, suddenly feeling almost on the verge of tears and overwhelmed by meeting Charis once more… “Erea…”
   @Sara
   
8. 

   Ready to learn

   Started by Ejder · June 19, 2020

   Trigger warning: mention of assault attempt
   July 75
    
   It had been weeks since Florus had met Cinnia out in the markets. Weeks, during which he'd been extremely busy. Busy with the gardens, first and foremost, but then also busy with figuring some very obvious things out. And, then, of course, after the earthquake, there was so much to do, so much to repair in the gardens. Trees to replant, new plants to order, the lack of rain to deal with, and the neverending battle against weeds. Yes, Florus had been very busy.
   He had wanted to see the other Briton again, but chance had not favoured him, and for a while he hadn't thought about her offer anymore. Until one evening when he was returning to the villa from the baths, and a hand had violently grabbed his arm from a shadowy alley. Florus had said he wasn't carrying any money, but that hadn't stopped the stranger from pawing at his waist, despite his evident lack of a purse. He'd managed to turn around and shove the stranger away, and had run all the way back to the villa. The altercation had lasted all of ten seconds, but it had been really stressful. What if he hadn't been able to get away? Surely he would have gotten beaten up badly.
   Since then, though, Cinnia's offer had come back to the forefront of his thoughts. She'd said there was a chance he could end up in a situation like this, and he almost had. Florus had to take it seriously. And he had to heed her advice.
   This was why, on his next free day, he had walked all the way to the imperial palace, and, as Cinnia had said, asked for her by name at the servants' entrance. The gardener stood there waiting, his back straight, hands behind it, feet apart at shoulders' width, immobile.
    
   @Atrice
   
9. 

   Neptune's Wrath

   Started by Kali · June 8, 2020

   The palace at night was peaceful, and the prince was one to sleep past dawn. Not raising until Apollo's rays peaked through the gossamer drapes that fluttered in the gentle breeze. That night, however, Titus was awake. Fretting in his bed as he felt some sort of unnerving feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. Almost as if he knew the gods were angry for some reason. His body slave tried to get him to cast the thought away. That is just his mind playing tricks on him. Still, it needled at him. Until he finally began to doze off thanks to mere exhaustion.
   That was when the earth began to quake, rattling the buildings of the city, including the palace. Titus bolted up right as the room around him shook, he could see his men slowly coming to, shouts around the palace could be heard. "We need to get to the gardens." He told them as he stood, grabbing his tunic and sandals. Pulling them on as he moved quickly out of his room. Slaves were running around trying to save what they could from being destroyed as they too headed towards where they would be safe at. 
   Another tremor hit, this time stronger , forcing him to make haste before he stopped and realizing he didn't recognize any of the slaves as his younger brother's. "Get to the gardens, I need to go find Drusus!" He said, pushing his servants and his tutor towards the way to safety before making his way towards the rooms he knew housed his brother. 
   ---
   30 6 75 | sorry fort he anticlimactic starting post lol | open to those living in the palace. | no posting order, short posts are ❤️
   
10. 

    Guarding You

    Started by Atrice · June 5, 2020

    Late September, 74 AD
    after Road to danger and Consequences
    Everything was taken care of with the princess. Flavia Juliana had slaves ready to help Claudia and Cynane remained quiet, alert and resilient while Claudia was bathed and her blood-soaked dress removed. She didn't speak unless spoken to. She did not take her eyes off Claudia for one tiny instant. It was while Claudia was under her protection, that she could have been hurt… she could have been worse off than she was! She could have been violated or even killed, although the first would honestly have been worse for the princess than the latter. When you died, you died. Living through the aftermath of the other thing… was not something she wished upon the only Roman she truly cared about. Maybe even loved.
    Now Claudia had been bathed and dressed in clean clothes and she had been given a room of her own to stay in while they were here. Aia and Decimus were elsewhere, while Decimus was being patched up and had to rest. Cynane followed Claudia, she would not leave her alone right now. Like a shewolf, she would guard her young with her life.
    She watched how the last of the slaves left the room and finally she and Claudia were alone… to think and to talk, probably. They needed to, after this. Claudia would need it and Cynane would be there for her. But for now, Cynane remained standing near the doorway, so she could check anyone who might want to enter.
    And she waited for Claudia to say something.
    Just something.
    Anything.
    @Gothic
     
    

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