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  2. While Nymphias thought they'd be aloen to talk freely around each other, Helios had other thoughts entirely, when he was alone with her. She was so sweet and delicate, much like her sister, he now understood... but it was much easier to talk to Nymphias and luckily, she met him before she learned about Charis. So she would hopefully stay truthful and loyal to him now. He wanted her to do that and he wanted to make her stay like that. Helios had sat down on a wooden bench in the quiet temple and spoke of how they would admire each other. Nymphias took his offer to sit in his lap, and when she sat there, across his legs with an arm around his neck, he slid his around her waist too, to keep her in place. She was so young, so pretty, so easy to lead astray, he thought. And then she called him the nicest man in Rome. Really? He knew he wasn't, but he would let her believe it. She went on about how he treated her with respect and no other Roman men were like him. "Why would I not be nice to you and treat you with respect? You're so... special and one of a kind, my sweet one." Helios said and gently brushed her cheek with his free hand. It was easy to feel her warmth through hers and his clothes here, he thought. And then she asked another question. "You definitely are. It's not like it is a habit of mine... seeing girls the way I'm seeing you. In fact, I don't think I've had a relationship like ours before." Helios confessed and it was true. He never brought another girl here and he never tried to call someone his lover or girlfriend or whatever she was, the way she was to him, "Ardra... I just can't get enough of you." And then he reached towards her to finally place a lingering kiss on her lips. As before, it stirred something in him. He wanted more. So much more, but he had to take it easy so he wouldn't lose her again. He needed her for so many reasons and desire and attraction was just one of them. @Beauty
  3. It was almost odd to meet someone here in Rome, who had never been to a brothel or even near one - but it seemed Hector was one of such men, and he confirmed that his master was indeed very pleasing. Helios noted how the words matched the expression on Hector's face and wondered if the poor slave was in love with his master. It was doubtful the love was returned, but he imagined said master would make Hector believe it, in order to get the treatment he wanted. As long as it worked for them, he thought. Hector then also confessed that he never had the time or the interest in going to a brothel and Helios nodded, "Of course not." He said and sipped his wine, while Hector explained that of course he had his share of fucks. Helios smiled, "I'm sure you have. Did you have another master before Varus? Or was he your first?" And his first everything, Helios wondered. But no matter, it was interesting to talk to a body slave like this, one who had lived a completely different life than his own, but was at the same time also just there for the pleasure of a wealthy Roman. The difference was that Hector only had to serve the one man... and Helios had many to serve and please. @Joaquin
  4. Today
  5. Decimus rolled his eyes and smiled as he thought about revealing that tidbit to Longinus. Officially, of course, it wasn't exactly a good idea to go around divulging the fact that you were close to the ears of the highest authorities in the land to anyone who asked you. Being a guardsman went hand in hand with discretion, and the less people who knew exactly what you were doing in the palace the better. With that in mind, Decimus felt as though he could probably trust a man whose loyalty and dedication to Rome were unquestionable, especially to those who'd served under him. "Oh, I'd say so." He'd say with a coy smile. Admittedly, he knew little of what other high-ranking nobles thought of her beyond the false smiles and political language they used with her at parties and other sorts of occasions. It was likely that she had more than a few admirers, though none could hope to win her very easily. She was a determined young woman, and one that Decimus was all too happy to serve... Even if he wouldn't be in the heat of battle every waking moment. "I guard Claudia, daughter of Drusus." He thought for a moment on that. He was almost certain that was correct, but his memory from the readings was a bit foggy as it had been some time since he'd delved into the records. Before too long, though, he continued. "Interesting enough?" @Sara
  6. Yesterday
  7. Valeria watched Nymphias with a brief observant gaze, almost morphing into her father in how he wrinkled of his nose in judgement at the sight of something (usually people) that he wasn’t fond of. ‘You could at least pretend to like it’ was what she wanted to quip but decided to save the crack wise. While Valeria was quick to laugh, she was equally as fast at becoming peeved. The last thing she wanted or needed was to feel guilted by an adolescent, especially a slave no less, when she already had one to deal with. Still, she wasn’t heartless. While she was keenly aware that she couldn’t understand the feeling precisely, she could at least grasp how life must currently seem to the girl. But Valeria could only extend empathy so far before the logistics of it became questionable. There were plenty of men in Rome who advocated for the release of slaves from their bondage, yet never considered how the impact would be on their assets. Valeria was critical of many things, an idealist in many ways, but her head was still on its shoulders and not in the clouds with the birds. “No need to be so glum,” the woman voiced with animated fatigue. “A word of advice, from an older woman to a younger one, you need to be stronger than that. If you don’t, you’ll fall behind. Not just in Rome, but in life.” “Yeah, fall,” parroted her daughter over the ashes and decimation of her mother’s ex-wax tablet. “Valeriana, come here.” She put her writing aside and held her arms out, before she turned her head back to Nymphias. “You see, when you’re young and beautiful, looking lost and forlorn is heart-tugging... for a time, then eventually, you find yourself aged and then a sad girl’s tears don’t work anymore. That being said, how often does my daughter make you want to cry?” @Beauty
  8. She didn’t say anything which only pushed to further infuriate him. He looked down at her, dark strands of her against her pale skin as she opened her eyes. His hand extended forwards once more, this time, he wasn’t going to slap her cheeks mockingly but he began to stroke her head affectionately, perhaps sending very strange, mixed and uncomfortable messages to her. “What happened to the woman who spoke so boldly moments before?” said Titus, his voice may have sounded soothing but that was completely beside his true intentions, which was to continue to push her down into her place. Or rather, what he saw as her place. But she seemed spellbound so he roughly took her by the hair and pushed her head. “Are you not going to tell me how to take care of my own slaves, woman?” He pushed her head again, this time a little more tough. His actions were perhaps not as violent as their brother Gnaeus had been but it was harsh in its own way. @Joaquin
  9. He listened to Marcus open up to him. It was not by much, as the man seemed difficult to crack into, but it was something and that something was interesting. He laughed, not because it was a funny story but because, in a very small way, he could relate. “It wasn’t good” summed up the entire affair regarding Marcus and his family. It certainly summed up Titus’ backstory as well. “My father’s second woman was a whore after my mother died,” he admitted, rolling his eyes. “You would have thought he could do better. The woman spawned an equally loose creature, my sister. But she has her beauty so that was the one good thing that came out of it. She is quiet and obedient, the way a woman should to be. The perfect wife but now to find the perfect husband.” As the conversation veered forwards, he saw that he could actually see eye-to-eye with Marcus. That was a relatively rare thing, considering most seemed to treat slaves and freedmen like they were equals. “Have you ever thought of breaking their teeth when they talk? Or cutting out their tongues?” suggested Titus, waving a hand innocently. He phrased it like a joke but he truly meant it. @Atrice
  10. “Dim, yes. Ugly? No,” said Titus as he moved towards the door. As he did so, he didn’t say anything. One might have assumed he was leaving but he wasn’t. Instead, he called for a slave to come to him but didn’t explain why, nor did he say anything to “Vesuvia”. She would just have to find out. Turning from the door, his attention returned to Vibia. He doubted she was telling the truth, she had to be playing with him. But he wasn’t interested in what he assumed was a crack wise response. “I killed the real Vesuvia,” he said suddenly, coldly with no emotion. He hadn’t really, he’d only made her life miserable. He could remember sitting at her bedside as she lay dying, sweat rolling from her brow, and she could barely talk. He told her how he’d take care of her daughter while she was gone. But, of course, the real Vesuvia had seen Titus’ true colours by then. But he had orchestrated the death of a business partner and had no regrets. “But I’m sure that doesn’t faze you,” said Titus. “I get the idea that not much fazes you. I like that.” Being both a whore and once a slave, he figured she had experienced all kinds of things. “But if we are stuck together, as you so kindly reminded me, I’m sure you can try harder with trying to get along with me, hm?” At that moment, the door creaked open, revealing a small slave, poking their head through the door. Nervous, lips sewn shut. There was no means for the slave to say anything as a result beneath the stitches and swelling around their lips. Before they could step into the room, Titus hit the slave with the back of his hand, sending the slave flying onto the floor with a hard, loud thud. “That’s for every time you say something I don’t like.” @Sara
  11. Tapping her hand was much appreciated, it meant the other woman felt sympathy for and understood her. Nymphias didn’t know if it was paranoia after having been enslaved but everyone appeared so terrifying, their faces looking like it was carved stone. Any bit of kindness made Nymphias inclined to see the other person as a potential friend. When the woman pointed towards herself, Nymphias merely blinked, trying to discern what the other, older woman meant for a moment, but then assumed she was saying something along the lines that she’d experienced the same. Or perhaps she was saying people took advantage of her voice, thought Nymphias. That was a very cruel thing, if so. People thought because Nymphias couldn’t speak proper Latin, somehow she was stupid too. “I like what they do over there,” said Nymphias, gesturing towards the crowds. She could hear the laughter and music still. It was hard to be happy after losing coices, a part of her wanted to stall returning to her master’s home but that would only get her into more trouble. “Are you waiting for someone here, is that why you sitting?” @Jenn
  12. It was clear, that Marcus might share certain views on slaves versus not-slaves the same way as the two Senators... but besides that, he was still the lower class compared to them. They were here to get their hair cut and their faces shaved, but they were also here as two friends going out together. They might as well have gone to a brothel, he thought, and send jokes to each other there. Now they chose to do it here, which meant profit for Marcus. But he could not help but note the distance between Senator and Plebian here. Though of course he said nothing, while Longinus' locks fell to the floor. They didn't want more than wine, any of them, and Longinus mentioned Britannia once more. Rufus then agreed that where he'd been, both wine and weather was better than Britannia. Marcus was born in Gaul, he knew all about how things varied in the world. He too had travelled. But not as a military man. Another difference... distance. Then Longinus asked a few questions, and it seemed to be easiest to begin with the first one. "It feels like I've been doing this my whole life. My father was a barber and so was my step-father after that. They taught me many things. After I came to Rome, I learned more." He added with a smile, "Now, good stories... there are plenty indeed, but which kind of story are you looking for? Something tragic, something funny or perhaps something more outrageous?" He said, glancing at both of them, "I imagine it is rare the two of you mingle much with anyone but me in this part of Rome." And then he looked at Longinus again, letting another lock of hair fall down from the sharp pair of scissors he held in his hand. He'd almost gone all the way around the man's head now and would soon move on to the shaving part of the experience. @Sara @Liv
  13. Brian


    I should be back now. I am working on catching up with replies. Thank you for understanding.
  14. Liv

    Fill the glass

    Helenus seemed to be in quite a state thanks to the odd episode he'd been through; Clio recalled him being a tad more outspoken at the baths. The uncertainty of it all had to weigh heavily on his mind... but was that the only reason he was looking so downcast? She hoped he wasn't regretting having accepted her invitation to a drink, or feeling bored to death. Oh, she knew exactly what he meant when he described the woman. She lived with one herself, and one thing Clio had learnt over the years with her mistress was just how flighty such women's moods tended to be. Things could be sunshine and roses one instant, then fire and fury the next. Their unpredictability was what made them so fearsome. "Yup, I know," she nodded in commiseration. If the wheels of complaint had been set in motion, it was just as Helenus had said: he had no power to decide anything; but if he had been a model capsarius thus far, maybe his supervisor would take that into account and soften the blow if he could, or rather, if he wanted to. His eyes finally met hers, and Clio smiled at him in encouragement. His question seemed to be more for confirmation than anything, as he'd probably have connected the dots after their previous encounter. "Correct. I've been with her for over two years now. She treats me well, I can't complain." Although she was speaking the truth, Clio was reluctant to share her domina's name right off the bat, though she couldn't quite put her finger on the reason why. She didn't think Annia Comna's name would be known to a thermae slave - though he might have heard of the Ludus Dacicus, if only in passing -, but if Helenus was more deceitful than Clio had been able to discern, knowing who to go to with blackmail in mind would have made the task even easier. "She's a bit like the lady from your story. 'Beautiful but deadly'," she quoted, wondering for a split second just how deadly. Well, everyone had their own secrets, and those of Annia Comna were of no concern to Clio unless the woman wanted them to be. The hirsute barkeep came round at last and grumbled out an impatient "What'll it be?". @Atrice
  15. So Bassus was simply after preferential treatment in matters of food. From a logical point of view, it made sense to attend to his request, for a well-fed charioteer should perform better. However, Safinia was not sure just how high up the food chain Bassus was: he looked twice her age and so his career could very well be on its last legs. She would have to confer with others before committing to such a deal. She followed his gaze downwards with her own, not instinctively comprehending what he was hinting at but having a good idea thanks to a decade of living surrounded by, and a part of, the hoi polloi. Like so many men, it seemed this one fancied himself a comic. Safinia knitted her brows and stared at him unblinkingly; fortunately he saw fit to clarify he was only joking... or was he? This encounter was getting stranger by the second, even down to the friendly patting of her arm. "I always ask why," she nodded, still unsure of where this was leading. How did it go from food to a promise of protection? Had a horse trampled on Bassus' head one time too many? It was difficult for her to follow the shift in topics, but he was not being unkind. Her expression relaxed into one of marginal interest, but her hand was still firmly planted on her hip. "Why should anyone mess with me?" she asked, shaking her head slightly. Safinia was only an inconsequential cook's assistant, and a very new one at that. Nobody had any reason to quarrel with her. Yet. "And why do you know my name?" @Beauty
  16. --- When they were finished Longinus slumped back in the bed untangling his limbs from Attis' underneath him. He ran his hand through his hair, mussed from their act and couldn't keep the grin from his face. When finally he was in a position to talk he chuckled and ran a comforting hand through Attis' own hair, "As I said," He caught his breath, "You're full of surprises." He was well satisfied, and hoped Attis had been too. Whilst he approved of slavery and the use of slaves to slake certain...needs, he wasn't so cruel as to prevent (and even aid) Attis in his own pleasure. As long as he didn't expect it every time. Turning his face away and glancing around the tent, he smirked; "Looks like there's more to clear up." He winced and glanced at his own discarded clothes atop of the mess he'd already created. He missed the double entendre in his own words, given what they'd just been up to and Attis' own state. TAG: @Sharpie
  17. Longinus arched an eyebrow. Several of his peers who had (finally) made it home from Britannia had complained of much the same; the boredom which had been frequent on his third tour had only intensified after his departure apparently. It made a sly grin stretch on his face at the thought and laughed boyishly at Decimus' remark. "I was always an easy target with that helmet." He chuckled, but couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice. Gods he missed it. He was about to enquire what particular business warranted a Primus Pilus rather than Tribune to carry a message but was cut off in thought by the revelation his friend and soldier had elevated himself so highly. "A Praetorian?" He beamed. He always thought Decimus would do well and was genuinely delighted for him. "And who have you got under your guard," He leant back and chuckled, "Anybody interesting?" The imperials were always interesting by virtue of the fact that they were so elevated. It was not a life he'd want for himself (not that he really had an option to, given the rank of his birth) to stand and watch princes and princess and forgo battles in some far off land, but he did understand the need for permanency and to belong, to settle, even if only theoretically. TAG: @Sains
  18. Charis shot her peer a glare and moved from the work she was doing (if it could be called such) inspecting the roses. "Ele-phen-tine." She repeated with a frown but made no move to ask him what it meant. It was absolutely insulting, that she could gauge from his body language, and that was enough. Brushing down the still-pristine chiton that Tertius had spent far too much on for a slave, she beamed up at him and stepped around him. "I know, important company." Important to her, perhaps, more than Tertius. Rufus' tablet had arrived a week before - long after the household had been made aware that two senators - Rufus and Longinus - would be visiting. The name written in neat script had made her heart leap into her throat and it still hadn't settled. She'd spent most of the morning preparing herself (she wanted to make a good impression, it might come in useful later) and styling and primping herself and her hair in a manner she remembered Ardra doing. She wanted to make the already fairly explicit family resemblance even stronger. When they'd finally arrived she'd tried to catch glimpses of the two visitors but for the life of her she couldn't work out who was who, nor get a really good look at either. Fortuna was smiling on her then, and for once Tertius' request to see her was welcome. She half wondered if he already knew, but thought it was too improbable and so the meaning behind this summons was as opaque as the man himself. She dutifully padded behind Hector into the triclinium and after casting a cautious glance between the men, settled in a spot next to Tertius; "Domine." @Liv @Atrice @Joaquin
  19. Guest

    Pine Hollow

    Welcome to Pine Hollow, home and sanctuary of the supernatural.Werewolves run the police department; ghouls run the localmortuary. Life in the town is quaint, peaceful. Supernaturalfolk of all kind come here to find a home.Scratch that.Welcome to Pine Hollow.You can erase the human, but you can’t erase the human traits.Greed, lust, envy, pride - they are all very much alive in thehearts of the residents.If territorial lines were so clear, Pine Hollow would be a map.But...it isn’t.Blood spills, conflicts arise. Corruption, desire, subterfuge.Werewolves run the police department but they’re fundedby an empire that sits on the skeletons of the nation. Thedead don’t stay dead in Pine Hollow. Nothing stays deadin Pine Hollow. Secrets scatter like ashes in the wind.Pine Hollow may be home to the supernatural, but makeno mistake:Peace is an illusion.INDEX • PLOT • SPECIES • RULES • DISCORD • ADVERTS
  20. It was a rare moment of freedom; he'd been trusted to go to the Emporium Magnum, the grand markets, on an errand. It was only picking up a garment that had been ordered, for his mistress, and he knew that it was a test to see how he handled this extra level of freedom, but it was heady none the less, to walk across the flagged square and not be bothered by anyone. There was someone bothering other people, however. A big brute of a man, a boy cowering before him, a ring of cowards who wouldn't step forward, and then as he watched, one did and just about got laid flat. A lad with red hair, unusual amongst Romans but far more common amongst Aeneas's own people. He was dressed like a slave, but a well-kept one. He wasn't sure from this angle what station in life the big man held. But someone was going to get pummelled if no one did anything, and likely it would now be the youth who'd tried to intervene. Who might his owner be? "You hit valuable slave, his Dominos ask expensive questions." Aeneas pointed out, stepping into range and eyeing the brute with the eye of an experienced fighter. Under his pale, freckly skin he'd developed the musculature of a gladiator, though he was still tall and lean compared to the big man who seemed to get his jollies from abusing others. Aeneas was never going to have that herculean build that some favoured, but he was quick and light on his feet, and right now entirely focused on the brute and the question of whether or not he would see sense, or pick Aeneas as his next target. @Sharpie
  21. "Want to." He confirmed. Whether or not he'd ever get the chance to see the theatre however was largely beyond his control. He served the whims of his mistress, and he was pretty sure that it wasn't a usual place for a gladiator. But his views on Roman society were changing, from a one-dimensional resentment of a hard-hearted people to a growing interest in the lives and passtimes of those who were free. Maybe one day he'd get to experience the same. He was also understanding that not all citizens of the Empire were, strictly speaking, or Roman origin. Perhaps it was because he was Greek that Theodorus was not so stuffy about their social divide. He'd certainly been interesting to talk to. He gave a nod at the man's warning, and tested his ankle gingerly on the floor. It felt better, if stiff. "Will try. Doctore not want damage gladiator, Domina not be pleased." And anyone who'd seen Corinthia in a temper would likely fear that. Perhaps there were times when it wasn't so bad to be viewed as goods, as long as one was valuable goods. "Is good meet you too, good talk." He said with a smile. "Interesting. You teach me about Romans, Greeks." He didn't have the words to express his appreciation of the opportunity to broaden his cultural understanding, but hopefully the medicus got the idea. "Thank you." And with that he turned to head back out and see whether the doctore would give him leave for the rest of the day. OOC: Thank you for an interesting thread! @Chevi
  22. Sarah

    The Bodyguards

    Is that so? He nodded in a reserved fashion, offering nothing further for the moment. He wanted to see how Cynane responded. It was an odd feeling, considering his own standing and politics less than those of his mistress, to whom his own were of course inextricably tied. But he supposed it was no different to talking to members of neighbouring clans, and minding their chieftains' business. Claudia Caesaris; that was a name he knew, even if he hadn't been able to put a face to it until Cynane nodded towards the young lady with the dramatic combination of fair skin and dark hair, as elaborately styled as her clothes. Oh yes, he'd heard that name before, the young lady who occupied the position that his mistress felt should be hers. "They cousins." He pointed out. Two Claudias, both named for the line of Caesars from which they descended, but his was the daughter of a freed slave and a man who might have been Caesar but never was, whilst Cynane's was the daughter of a Caesar who had actually been, and a lady of high birth. This was all information he'd gleaned slowly over time, from his mistress and the household slaves. He never commented on the difference in station, knowing that it was Corinthia's goal to be recognised as an imperial daughter, and in his interest to assist with such. "I still learn Roman society." He admitted quietly. "First I sent to ludus. But my Domina and her mother both kind to me." Well, Corinthia shouted at him quite a bit, but he'd learned that she was all bark and no bite, at least where he was concerned, and her mercurial moods likely to blow over quickly if he simply weathered them. "They same age? Your Domina and mine." He suggested. Close anyway. "Could be good friends." He observed. If given the chance, anyway. And if Corinthia behaved herself. Surely she would recognise a political ally. @Atrice
  23. Lexus thought he knew the establishment, which was all to the good. The slave had heard of it only, and via the guards, so goodness knew what quality it was. And whether a lady like Gaia should be seen there, not that the two men, slave and freeman, would let anything happen to her. Of course, he was sweaty and half-dressed, and probably stank, so it was not that surprising that the others suggested he might like to clean up, even as Aeneas was keen to exit the ludus as rapidly as possible. He couldn't argue with their good sense. "I go wash, get tunica." He confirmed, bowed slightly to the pair, and disappeared into the buildings of the ludus, long strides eating up the distance quickly. What an odd turn of events, he mused as he walked. Much as it pained him, the reality that he was never likely to return home was settling in, and thus he was beginning to wonder what life he might make for himself here. The additional freedoms that were beginning to come with trust and time were making that transition of thought a little easier. @Gothic@Atrice
  24. Attis had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the situation. He could not let either man know of his amusement - his master would be unhappy with him now and the Prefect unhappy that his humiliation had been overheard by a slave. And the Prefect might take his discomfiture out on that slave at some hitherto unknown time in the future. He stepped across to his master as bidden. "We were here, doing this, domine," he said, looking up his master's face to ensure that his lead was welcomed and he wasn't overstepping himself as his pressed his mouth to his master's. Hopefully this time they wouldn't be interrupted! @Sara
  25. Perhaps she had been deliberately snide with him, but sometimes she felt his negativity, and it made her think what he thought and see what he saw in the world, a constant pessimism and derision. While she would give him credit where it was due, she also saw something else. Where lesser men died in foreign lands at the ends of spears, his chosen opponents were those who couldn’t fight back, then reclined smugly into his seat in the evenings, laughing at scrolls. It was difficult not to disbelieve her brother where once she might’ve. When Titus rose, she had considered that he had grown tired of the company that he had asked for, but it didn’t inspire her to relax and her instinct proved correct when he closed in. Rather than return his words with eye contact, Gaia’s head turned aside out of discomfort with an averting gaze while the breath was held in her abdomen. She doubted the possibility, yet he did make her wonder what was going on in his mind, from his fixation on her sex life to how he looked at her as a child. As he patted her cheek, her eyes shut out of instinct and her eyes only followed him to see where he was going but she didn’t say anything after in response. If she wanted, it almost like a spell had been cast on her ability to do so. @Beauty
  26. Gaia’s brows pressed together in a show of equal confusion. In the light-and-dark of the lamplights and night-time, it was difficult to search for any telling of the truth in his face. She was left with the uncertainty in his voice but with Titus, she was always left with a confused instinct and often second-guessed herself. Still, if he was indeed a slave, then he was unfamiliar to her both in the sense that she had not seen him before and that he had a more polished air than the servants she was used to. In fact, more than most, generally-speaking, given that people on the streets were often in a hurry and abrasive, just as she had been with him. Particularly in the madness of the crowds or at certain hours, usually later in the day and more-so once the sun fell. Normally, expletives would have been thrown back rather than a question. It might’ve been that which made her reconsider. “I’m sorry,” she answered slowly, sounding confused in her attempt to diminish the earlier accusation. “I thought you were someone else.” But she didn’t elaborate any further, she couldn’t, and yet there was some relief in her voice but only for as long as it lasted. She could have left it there and continued as one might in Rome, but the curiosity had the better of her. “Are you not from here, anywhere near then?” @Chevi
  27. "Would have been a pity for one Rome's great generals to come back looking like that." Shaking his head at the thought, Decimus made his way over to the bench and made himself comfortable on the smooth marble. Feeling the impact of that familiar hand on his back sent a chill down his spine. It brought him back to the moments leading up to one of the last great battles he'd seen against the northern tribes where he'd felt that confident pat on the back of his shoulder as the rattle of a thousand barbarian swords and axes echoed through the forest. That simple gesture had instilled confidence in the hearts of many during those campaigns from long ago. It was almost as if they'd never truly parted ways. "I'd say I came to the city about a year ago now... Something like that." He'd snort when the suggestion was made that he was off "Storming" anywhere in the days after the Legate's replacement had taken command. "I wish! I'd wager we marched for a whole week before meeting resistance some days... Think they lost the stomach for it after they figured out they couldn't take shots at you anymore!" A hearty laugh would give way to silence soon enough as Decimus looked over some of the nicks in his hands. "No, I was ordered to come to Rome to represent the Governor on some state business... It was only after a few weeks of being in the city that I'd been told to report to the Palace." He turned his head to meet the gaze of Longinus to measure his reaction when he informed him of the good news. "I am Praetorian now." @Sara
  28. Last week
  29. She nodded, she did remember that they had hoped to be alone. At least, that way it would be simpler for them to talk freely and be in one another’s presence. If others were around, crowding about, it would ruin what time they had together. What time felt like so little because soon enough she, and she figured Helios too, would be carried away to work. Nymphias’ eyes were glued to the world around her, absolutely captivated by the sight and allowed Helios to guide her to where there was a wooden bench. He sat down but she remained standing but only for a little while until he spoke some more. Admiring each other? Surely, they were already doing that. She was certainly admiring him. It was better to see him in person than in the memory of her mind. Her cheeks went red and hot as she sat down on his lap, placing her arm carefully around around his neck to keep herself from falling off to the temple floor. “You are nicest man in Rome,” said Nymphias and it was true. How many nice men were there in Rome? Not many, most were branded as evil by the girl, merely because they shared the same blood as the people who captured her and ruined her family’s life. Those were not Roman were exempt. “You treat me so well… with respect. First time I meet Roman men… it was horrible. And after, everyone think I’m stupid but you treat me nice.” They hadn’t done anything to her physically but they’d done so mentally, they’d tried and threatened, it’d certainly imprinted fear in her mind. She didn’t admit this out loud so often. Acts of gentleness were always much welcomed and with the first man to kiss her, it meant something to her. She tilted her head. “Am I first girl you bring to this place?” she said, sounding hopeful. She had to have been, she hoped, and she wanted to hear that she was, just so she could feel special to someone. @Atrice
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