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Found 11 results

  1. Late February 75AD Charis paced, glancing up at the sun every few steps and then back to the gate to the gardens she suspected Cynane would walk through into. Getting a message to her friend had been nigh on impossible and as the minutes slipped by, she suspected the little slave she'd begged to deliver a message hadn't been successful, or pocketed the handful of coins she'd managed to scrape together and never sought Cynane in the first place. Charis had seen her friend almost every month since that first day in the Gardens, a combination of meetings pre-arranged and pre-planned, but this was different. They had not been supposed to meet for weeks, but this was urgent and couldn't wait. By March it would be too late. Her message, given my the little girl, had been simple; Gardens of Sallust, midday, urgent. She didn't want to frighten her friend, but she needed to see her. There were few she could turn to now; Rhoda for all her kindness, would spread this news round the house faster than a plague and Teutus was no longer her Teutus - not that he'd be interested in such 'feminine issues' anyway. Besides, Cynane was her friend, her closest friend. She needed her. Anxiety growing she stopped to take a seat on the manicured grass, folding her head in her hands. Today she couldn't enjoy the beauty of the place, nor its visitors. Every few moments the sound of children with their mother or slaves and it felt heartbreaking. She placed her hands over her ears to block out the childish giggling or babies screaming and only when she felt a tap on her shoulder did she look up to see her friend. "You came." She managed. TAG: @Atrice
  2. Atrice

    The Bodyguards

    The whole strange ritual of Lupercalia was over – at least for the noble lady Cynane was serving. And she wasn’t just any noble lady, she was the princess. She was however also a young woman who was very much ready to be married soon, so she had to be present for an event like this. And Cynane was always near her, making sure her mistress wasn’t actually harmed and just enjoyed herself instead. By now though, they had retreated, as there was a private party for high-ranking nobles and of course Claudia was going to attend. And so Cynane was too. As always at such events, she had retreated to rest against a wall, not interrupting the party with her presence, she was just there, watching her mistress from afar. They had arrived early though, and she watched as more and more people entered – some carrying marks from the bloody strips of goatskin. Proof that they too had attended the ritual and the fun afterwards. If you could call that fun – it was strange fun. On the other hand, not stranger than so many other ancient rituals, both here and in Britannia. A slave offered Cynane a drink and she gladly took it and looked up as another group was entering the party. A tall and beautiful noble lady had appeared, with a guard in tow too it seemed. The guard was soon left to fend for himself, not following her around and Cynane tilted her head, watching him. He seemed so out of place here, for some reason. He was definitely no ordinary guard, she decided, but she didn’t know him yet and Cynane was always careful with strangers – especially when they were men. If he looked her way though, she’d raise her cup to him and have a sip, acknowledging his presence. @Sarah
  3. Second week of October, 74 AD It had been weeks since that day Claudia Caesaris decided to go for a ride outside of Rome and they had been attacked by a roaming gang of bandits. And survived, because Cynane was bold enough to throw her knife right into their leader's throat. It had felt good. Then later that day, it felt less good, because she discovered she had not only of course received some bruises and scratches, but a blade had crossed her side in the heat of the fight and she had only noticed after she took care of her mistress. As a former gladiatrix she had long since learned to ignore such, to her, small injuries when there were more important things to focus on. The wound had healed though and Claudia had also recovered well enough to finally mingle with others again. She was so brave, Cynane thought. So brave and strong in her own way and so hard-working! Other women of Claudia's rank might have wanted to isolate themselves, but she didn't do that. She kept on going. Cynane had been extra watchful over her since the attack though, and tonight she was once more escorting her princess to a social event, a party. As usual, Cynane would find a pillar to stand by, where she could see the entire main room and her princess, without interfering with her conversations and her friends. She stood there, silent and resilient, ever alert and watchful. Clad as usual in her brown leather armor, the light blue tunica, breeches, well-strapped sandals and a weapon by her side. Since this was a party, her hair was made up nicely with braids and twists, as she liked it. Volusa had more than once showed her Roman hairstyles, but she never felt they suited her well. Not that looks mattered if you were attacked. Speaking of attacks, there was a different one coming her way. An attack of memories of the past. At first her gaze wandered past him as she scanned the room one more time, but then her eyes returned to him and they widened. She inhaled sharply and felt her heart pound hard in her chest. What in the name of *Aeron was he doing here? She had not often thought of him, but she had also not forgotten him, even if she had truly hoped to never see him again. It was her captor from Britannia! This was the man responsible for her enslavement and for her still being here, today, as a slave. She had not been freed as he talked about. And she never had a chance to escape that would lead to her living afterwards. Eppitacos already knew Cynane could hold a grudge for a long time. In this case, it was no different. She knew it was him. Though it had been more than ten years, age had been as kind to him as to her. When he walked closer to her, although he didn't seem to notice her yet, she found herself breathing through her nostrils in an attempt to stay silent. But she wanted to yell at him. And beat him up. Maybe the other way around. She inhaled another breath and closed her eyes. At least she had better self-control now than then. @Sara *Aeron - goddess of war and slaughter in Celtic mythology
  4. Britannia, September, 62 AD She had survived her 17th summer and was entering her 18th winter. Cinnia knew she was born late in the year, after the feast of Samhain, but before Solstice. She was not 18 yet. And now she didn’t know if she would live to see her 18th summer next year. The battle hadn’t gone well. Or, she heard that it had, just not for her party. The Romans had indeed been defeated, she could see that when they dragged her through the camp towards the tent where they kept captives. But apparently not entirely defeated, or else she’d not be sitting here. It was sad. Humiliating and sad and no fun. Her hands were tied behind her back. Quite hard too, her wrists might be bleeding, she thought. She still wore her armor, consisting of a good leather vest underneath the fine chainmail she’d been given before this battle. She wore breeches, her good boots and of course a tunica underneath it all. Her hair had been made up on her head, with three braids gathered into one thick, but it wasn’t as good looking now. She hadn’t had a chance to wash herself, so there were still dried sprays and cakes of blood and dirt upon her face and everywhere else, really. But she couldn’t even scratch her cheek, with her hands tied. She was also hungry, by the way. Everything was wrong and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. There were other slaves here too, but they looked just as weary as she felt. No one spoke. There weren’t a great lot of captives from the battle, she could count maybe ten, but that was ten more than none. She was the only woman captured. What would they do to the captives? Make an example out of them? Kill them for sports? She heard the Romans did that. They would make slaves kill slaves and they called it fun. A soldier stepped into the tent and looked around. Then his eyes fell on her and he smiled and came over to her. He said something she didn’t understand, so she just blinked and glared at him. That caused him to take her by the arm and haul her up. He looked at her up close and smirked again, “Come…” He said, that part she understood. And then something more. Something with her being wanted, she thought. She knew a little Latin, but not a lot. Gods what would they do to her? She tried to fight it, when he began dragging her out of the tent, she dropped to her knees and made herself heavy. Then he slapped her hard across the face and she was dizzy afterwards, too dizzy to think for a few moments. But it was all he needed. Fuck. Then he took her by the arm again, harder than before, and pushed her out of the tent. Then he lead her towards a much larger one. Here she was brought inside and he said something fast, then he left. Cinnia looked around and blinked, it had been darker in the other tent, but in here, it was light and warm. But what was she here for? @Sara
  5. It had been a good while since that night she went out to Bacchus’ Cup and had met that Senator Metellus – or Lucius, as she most often thought of him as. He was annoying as *Lugh, but also handsome and attractive in his own… Roman way. Cynane usually did not have high thoughts of Roman men and Lucius had not impressed her at first, but apparently, he got under her skin, because she’d thought about him more than once since their odd encounter. Time went by though and although he had invited her to meet him again, she hadn’t expected he’d actually do it. He was a high and mighty Senator, he might even have a wife and Cynane was nothing but a Briton slave to him. He had his fun with her, he had his jokes on her and that was that. She went back to her life and he went back to his and although she thought about him, she also didn’t think she would ever see him again. Unless maybe at some fancy banquet for the wealthy and noble, and then he probably wouldn’t notice her. But then a messenger showed up and apparently there had been an exchange between Claudia and Lucius and it was arranged, it had been allowed… Cynane had been invited to his home, alone, without her princess or anyone else. A slave, invited to spend time with a Senator. She knew how that looked, but knew that Claudia wouldn’t just rent her out like that. This was different... but what was it, exactly? She put on the only actual dress she had – a stunning crimson piece that she almost never wore. Claudia had given it to her early on. Cynane was much better with wearing breeches and a tunica, so she could move and not these difficult skirts that most other women preferred. But she pulled the chiton-like dress (it was held together with some clasps over her shoulders) over her head and made her hair up as nicely as she could. She had Volusa help her with the little braids, she didn’t want to look like some Roman woman. She had a light brown palla that went well with the crimson dress, but of course also brought a cloak for the travel to his home. Gods this was so weird, she thought, while she walked through Rome on her own in the late afternoon. She had never been invited to someone’s home like this, she was just a slave, after all – but soon she stood there, outside the fancy looking domus on the Caelian Hill and she inhaled a breath and knocked. A slave let her inside and invited her to wait in the atrium. Cynane looked around quietly, inhaled a breath. She had no idea what to say to him. Or what this night was going to be like. What did he expect? What should she expect? And then she finally heard the footsteps of someone else approaching the otherwise silent atrium of the domus. @Brian *Lugh - a Celtic trickster god
  6. It had been a good long while since she’d last laid her eyes upon Charis. Actually not since that day they went to the park, drinking and talking to Helios of the Domus Venus. She worried about her friend, wondering of course why she hadn’t seen her. She’d gone more than once to the play they had departed before, close to her house but not too close, hoping that Charis would show up. But she didn’t. Hopefully she was alright; hopefully nothing had happened to her. Maybe it was her hard-to-read Dominus who had locked her up for unknown reasons. Or she had behaved in the wrong way and displeased him and he’d killed her. All kinds of thoughts had gone through her mind and she had even considered going to knock on the door to ask for Charis – she just wanted to see her safe. She knew her friend probably wasn’t as fragile as one might think, but on the other hand, she was no warrior like Cynane and she was so delicately beautiful. Again she had a few hours where Claudia wanted to rest and other of the guards had taken over, and Cynane once more discovered that her feet led her to Charis’ home. She rounded the corner and found a place in shadow nearby, where she could watch the house. She probably wouldn’t come. Cynane crossed her arms, feeling a little bit irritated and angry at Charis’ dominus. Although to be fair, he probably didn’t even know about Cynane. She didn’t know if Charis had dared to mention to him that she had friends outside the house. Just as she was about to leave, a person came out from the little alley leading to the servant entrance to the house. And it could only be Charis! Cynane smiled at first, happy to see her, but the it faded, because she was still worried. When Charis came her way, she waved at her, “Charis! Thank the gods, it really is you!” She said in their own tongue, when the other was closer to her, “I was so worried!” @Sara
  7. By the gods Cynane hoped this was the right time! Two weeks ago, she had met a very lovely young woman from Britannia and they had actually gotten along rather well. So well that they wanted to see each other again. And they agreed to meet near her domus, two weeks later. Cynane had been a very good slave to her imperial mistress those weeks, she had not asked for any trips out on her own, but now she did it and it paid off. She was allowed. But at what hour was it she met Charis last time? She believed it was afternoon, because she remembered Claudia having business during the morning hours and she had been resting later in the day, and that’s when Cynane went to the market. She could not ask for an entire day off, but she wanted to see Charis so badly. She didn’t know why, other than that she’d felt bad for the young woman and wanted to be her friend. And maybe that’s all the reason she needed? Anyway, she was here now. Right where they’d left each other, but she had seen where Charis went afterwards so she continued up the hill to the domus. It didn’t look like the biggest place, but it wasn’t small either. She leaned against a wall opposite the domus where Charis lived and worked as a slave and she hoped Charis would actually appear. If she remembered their deal about meeting here and if she actually got the chance to leave. She hoped so. @Sara
  8. A bead of sweat worked its way down her neck as Charis glanced around the market with wide, panicked eyes. The sun was unbearably hot for a woman who had spent all of her life in the climes of northern Britannia. She felt flushed and faint and her predicament wasn't helping matters. Every single street looked the same; every stall, every man trying to sell his wares, even the people had started to look alike and she had no sense of where she was. She did, however, have a sense of the time. She had already been gone for too long, and much longer and Rhoda would no doubt start to note her absence. This was your first opportunity Erea, you stupid woman! She chided herself. She was well and truly lost. Rome, she had figured out, was a maze and she wished she had paid more heed to her Dominus' warning. She had been overjoyed when he had granted her leave from the house, but now she was sorely regretting it. In panic, she moved cautiously to a vendor, selling his wares. "I...lost." She eyed him - even though she had been instructed on how to converse (or not converse as it went) with her master - freedmen were another matter. Still, this situation called for her not to care. "I...need to go home..." The man responded with a gruff bark of something she didn't understand and moved a hand as if to shoo her away. Stepping back, she pushed her hair from her face and muttered under her breath, in her own language "What in the world do I do now? You stupid, stupid girl Erea..." She might not know much about slaves in Rome, but she knew what happened to ones that were presumed runaways. Unconsciously she touched her forehead, clear and free of any branding...for now. In desperation she moved to another stall, and gestured, panicked with her hands - her accent heavy and almost unintelligible in her worry. "P-please...Q-quirinal Hill?" She was sure that was not how it was pronounced, but she had at least memorised where she needed to go. TAG: @Atrice
  9. Cynane had been in the imperial palace a few years now – and she felt she’d adjusted as well as she could, to being a guard to a princess. She’d learned early on that the princess never actually had her own, personal guard before – and now she didn’t just have any guard, she had a warrior and a former gladiatrix watching over her, whenever she left the palace, whenever she attended a social event or just whenever it was really required. And Cynane found out she was happy to spend time with her young mistress, who was usually very kind towards her, despite of course still treating Cynane as a slave – because that’s what she was. Yet at the same time, from the very beginning, Claudia had proved curious and willing to learn from someone more mature and experienced. Cynane, as her guard, wanted Claudia able to defend herself and she had already on her first day shown Claudia some useful moves. By now, they did not practice as often anymore, as the young princess also had other things to do, but Cynane made sure her mistress didn’t forget. Just in case. Today was a day like any other. Cynane woke and made herself ready for the day. With just her hands feeling her hair, she created three braids starting from her forehead and ending on top of her head. She pulled those three braids into one thick braid and let that fall down her back. Then she put the leather vest on top of the light blue tunica and added whatever else was needed for her outfit. She hadn’t actually had to defend the princess yet, but she had to look her part and she had to be ready. At all times, she would stay alert. After a short visit to the kitchens to break her fast, she moved on towards Claudia’s chambers to find her mistress and find out what was in store for the day. As she approached the right chambers, she saw Claudia’s shy and very loyal body slave, Volusa, coming out from there, “Greetings, Volusa. Is our mistress up yet?” Volusa and Cynane were both among those considered Claudia Caesaris’ personal slaves, and while they didn’t always get many chances to talk, they knew each other at least - maybe not so well, but that's just how it was. Volusa was very young, they didn't have a great deal in common, but here they were, tending the same person. Cynane had before considered if she should also attempt training her a bit. Anyone taking care of the princess should know how to defend her. It would only be right, wouldn't it? @Sharpie
  10. Claudia Caesaris was a sweet and beautiful young woman, who had been through a lot. Cynane had learned that at least, after she’d been here almost two years, working as a guard for the young princess. And while Claudia had probably never had a day of hard work in her life, Cynane still cared about her, for reasons she could not quite grasp. The girl was a princess, after all, and her life could not have been much more different from the life Cynane had. Her childhood was happy, her youth had a lot of fighting in it and then the battle where her party lost and she was taken captive and became a gladiatrix in Rome a year after… but at least she was no longer on the sands, no, she was here in the palace and her life had definitely improved, even if she was still a slave. And even if she still had her opinions about the Romans and their way of life. Today she had little to do, it seemed. Claudia was staying in the palace and she was having some visitors over today. She knew the family, as they sometimes did visit the imperial family and did attend social events here. They were safe, Cynane judged. Once the guests had arrived, Cynane was instructed to stay nearby and alert, as always, but they didn’t want to be interrupted, so she settled down in a nearby more open area of the palace, watching everyone who’d come and go in the direction of her young Domina. There had been another with the visitors though, who apparently also had to give them some privacy after being introduced, so Cynane was soon joined by their servant, or whatever she was. She was dressed somewhat strangely – not as a guard, like Cynane, but she wasn’t dressed entirely feminine either, like most other women. She didn’t have long hair like most women either – even like Cynane – but it wasn’t entirely short either. She was pretty though, she decided, especially quite liking the red hair. She didn’t look very Roman to Cynane. Meanwhile Cynane was in the usual garb for her job, although not the fancy garb she wore for social events and when going out... but she wore her long, blonde hair in three braids collected into one long braid, starting from the top of her head, and she had her light blue tunica and the brown breeches and good sandals on her feet. She also wore her leather vest and had a belt and a blade by her side; she would never go without it. She probably appeared quite fierce compared to most other women in Rome, who were not gladiators. Cynane decided to speak to the woman, who seemed to not be entirely sure of where to go in the great palace, “Salve.” Cynane greeted the redhead, “I’m Cynane, Claudia Caesaris’ guard, in case they didn’t tell you. You are with my Domina’s guests today?” She spoke her Latin very well, but it was impossible to hide the accent of Britannia, because Latin was not her mother tongue. @Chevi
  11. Atrice


    CYNANE 29| November 44 AD | Slave | Imperial Bodyguard | Bicurious | Wanted | Katheryn Winnick Personality. Cynane protects her young mistress, with her life if she has to... in the beginning, this was of course because she'd been ordered to do so. Cynane does not want to return to the arena as a gladiator though, she enjoys life in the imperial palace and does her best to do her job well. She does not want to kill for sport and become a whore again - so she has her reasons for doing her job well. She does not always talk much, because when she talks, she has a tendency to speak her mind and she is not good at being submissive and inferior... she was never raised to be such a person, after all. She does however appear very formal and strict and she knows a thing or two about discipline - however if you push her far enough, she isn't always able to control her temper. She may be a slave, but she is still also a proud warrior and a proud woman in general. Cynane does of course hope she may one day be freed, but also knows this is not something to strive for. She is a war-captive and she's very much aware of this. She has come to care a little for her orphaned mistress, but this is not something she talks about either. She is, after all, supposed to act like a slave and not like a friend. Cynane does not trust people easily - it went well before she became a slave, but after that, many events has made her harder than she was before. She has never had a steady lover for the same reason. Appearance Cynane is tall compared to most Roman women, standing almost 170 cm tall. She has long, blonde hair, which is often braided and kept in a hairstyle on top of her head - so that it is not in the way of her work. Her eyes are blue and she has full, light red lips and a slender and trained body, ready to fight whenever possible. Cynane often spends her free time training, so that she is always ready for battle - this is how she was brought up, after all. She dislikes wearing dresses, but prefers breeches, a long tunica and a leather vest to protect her body with. She will also wear armor if she is escorting her mistress away from the imperial home. She likes the color blue and wears it when able - where she comes from, blue is a rare color and it holds a lot of meaning to her. Family Father: Owen (deceased) Mother: Briannah (deceased) Siblings: Meredith (sister, 25), Briannon (sister, 27), Herne (brother, 33) - all unknown whereabouts Spouse: N/A Children: N/A Extended family: Ysulda of the Brigantes/Flavia Isolda (cousin, not played) Other: -- Owner: Claudia Caesaris History Born and raised in Britannia, Cynane – back then known as Cinnia - lived a free life from childhood and until she was 18 years old. During most of her life, she knew there had been war between the British tribes and Rome, which was trying to invade and would eventually succeed. Cinnia’s family was related to the king of her tribe, the Brigantes, and the king made sure his entire family were constantly ready for the Romans. This meant that every child who reached puberty was given training as a warrior – this included the young women and thus also Cinnia. She knew this all her life, of course, and she was more than ready to fight when finally given the chance. Her cousin was Ysulda, who'd eventually attempt becoming queen of their tribe and would also eventually end up in Rome, like Cinnia. None of them knew this when they were young though. Cinnia proved to be a strong and skilled warrior and when her tribe joined battles against the Romans in 62 AD, Cinnia was in the British army. She was optimistic, believing in the strong blood of Britannia to come out on the winning side – but her party was defeated by the Romans and Cinnia was among those taken captive. Her father died in the battle and she does not know whether any of her siblings survived. She later heard that her party was the only losing party in that particular battle and still today holds a grudge towards Eppitacos, since none of the others came to their aid. If they had done so, she might not have become a slave. Since Cinnia was a female and skilled warrior, it was quickly decided she would become a gladiatrix in Rome. She hated being in chains and under Roman rule – she had grown up free and was used to making her own decisions. None of that mattered though. In 63 AD, she was finally brought to a ludus in Rome, renamed Cynane and deemed breakable. Breakable?! Cynane would prove them wrong, she had been raised to be a strong woman and she still was, despite her current state of life. Her lanista and doctore tried hard to break her though, but eventually it was a matter of either killing her by breaking her or sending her into the arena, hoping she'd die there. And at least in the arena, they got something out of her death, so she was sent to the sands – they expected her to die. Of course she didn’t. She fought and she lived and received great glory in the arena. The crowd loved her and her skills and Cynane began to understand she could live this life. At least it was more than being chained constantly. There was one downside to it though – after the fighting, wealthy Romans would want to bed her, and while she was strong in the arena, she was expected to submit to their pleasures. This was how she lost her virginity – and her first time wasn’t all that pleasant. Yet Cynane was not ready to die. And apparently it would work out in the long run, to stay alive. Her life changed again in 72 AD, when a male member of the imperial family noticed her skills - and she was deemed useful for more than the arena and pleasure for coin. Cynane was removed from the ludus by Octavius Flavius Alexander and soon after gifted to his niece, the young imperial lady Claudia Caesaris, to become her personal bodyguard. She has been with Claudia two years now and has so far proven to be loyal. She is pleased to no longer be a gladiator and enjoys the life of a guard and slave at the court - which she considers more luxurious than when she lived at the ludus with the gladiators. She has even developed protective feelings for the orphaned princess. Not that she has forgotten she’s a slave – she never will – but life could be worse. Atrice | GMT+1 | PM or Discord
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