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28 | 18th April 49 CE | Slave | House Slave | Heterosexual | Original | Skeet Ulrich





Frustration and gratitude don't necessarily sound like they would go together, but they manage to almost perfectly coexist within Amatus. Above all, he feels an immense gratitude simply (though really not so simply in his case) for being alive; he is well-aware that he was lucky to be retired from the gladiator life after his injuries and his appreciation for his master's mercy has spawned a steadfast loyalty towards the man. Though his appreciation and loyalty are strong, they aren't strong enough to fend off frustrations towards the challenges he has to face in the next chapter of his life. The fact that he can no longer use his dominant hand reliably and without discomfort weighs quite heavily on him, and at times he struggles to hide his, well, struggles. Not only is it aggravating to be holding something only to suddenly drop it thanks to sudden muscle weakness, it's also a source of embarrassment for the formerly very capable fighter. The pins and needles, burning sensations, and aches aren't much fun, either, but at least they're invisible to outsiders, save for when he winces. Being quite the capable problem solver even in the face of shame, he came up with a workaround— using his left hand instead. Easier said than done, but he's giving it his best shot, albeit with fairly mixed results.

Amatus tends to not be one to hold a grudge, but he will forever and always harbor bitterness towards his father. Thankfully for the residents of Rome, they're not Carmanos, which means he'll be generally friendly and polite to the majority of people he meets. He's gentle and respectful towards women, not wanting to cause any member of the fairer sex the kind of hardship his father caused his beloved mother. Before his injuries, he was a rather confident, perhaps even bordering on cocky, individual. Though the confidence he tries to exude these days is nothing but a false face most of the time, there's one thing that no bum leg or damaged nerves could take away... his sarcastic wit. Slave or not, he's always had a sarcastic, quick-witted tongue in his mouth. For the most part, he knows when to bite his tongue, but there's some moments where he just can't help himself, which can land him in trouble if the receiver isn't the type to find humor in the comments of a slave.

He might not look the part, but Amatus is quite detail oriented. He's likely to notice things that others might not and he tends to be pretty good at reading a room. His sharp eyes kept him alive on more than one occasion and now it's shaping up to come in handy again. Dust bunnies beware... there's no escaping Amatus' highly trained gaze! Chasing dust bunnies around (or whatever job he's given on the day) is definitely more appealing to him than fighting was, even if it's proving to be tough to adjust to.



Measuring in at exactly six feet tall, Amatus can be a fairly imposing individual, especially with his sculpted physique. That imposing image fades once he starts limping around, his wounded gait revealing how unthreatening he's been forced to become. His light skin has a warmth to it that is further brought out by decent exposure to the sun. His brunette hair is kept short save for a few locks of fringe that often brush over his forehead and if dampened the whole mop takes on a wave. He isn't one to fuss over his appearance, which often leads to some scruff living on his otherwise clean face. He inherited his father's dark brown eyes, which are quick to reveal his emotions and in certain lighting appear to be near black. Scars can be found here and there on his body, with a rather gruesome one decorating his right shoulder blade, another permanent reminder of the wound that ruined his right arm.



Father: Carmanos

Mother: Elantia

Siblings: No legitimate siblings, though there are surely some illegitimate ones running around with the way his father was. Not that Amatus knows of them or would ever want to know them.

Spouse: x

Children: x

Extended family: Cerdo (uncle)

Other: Lucius Cassius Longinus (master)



CW: mention of spousal abuse and a leg injury that might make the squeamish squeamy

In the Belgica region of Gaul, Amatus was born Dago, the only child of Carmanos and Elantia. For years his parents had been trying to conceive; Elantia had been a very sick child and, though she miraculously survived, her illnesses had inevitably affected her fertility. To make matters worse, her husband was an impatient and mean drunk, having turned to the tankard after a dispute with his brother left him removed from the family blacksmithing business. Elantia had assumed that the birth of their son would make Carmanos change his ways, but she sadly assumed wrong. The man was rarely around, though his "work" consisted of odd jobs at the most and was rarely consistent, and his temper was short whenever he actually was around. Needless to say, the young Dago was much closer to his mother than his father and he quickly learned to loathe alcohol once he was old enough to understand it.

By the time Dago was old enough to start learning a trade, his father's primary income was still from the realm of odd jobs around the village, but he'd taken up fletching "on the side" (Could a man who didn't have an actual job have a side job?) as a way to spite his weapon-forging brother so he, quite reluctantly, began to teach Dago the art of arrow making. Things were never smooth between father and son, but with each passing lesson Dago noticed more and more tension growing between them, with strange looks and side-eyes more frequently sent his way despite him actually doing quite well in his training. Arguments between his parents became more frequent, too, though his mother was talented in changing the topic whenever she realized he was around. Although, despite her best efforts, he eventually found out the problem... thanks to his drunk father, of course.

After a particularly heavy night of drinking, Carmanos came stumbling into the family home, slurring his words and as wasted as Dago had ever seen him. "I knew it!" he'd slurred as he pointed in the general direction of a startled Elantia. "I knew you whored around and had this bastard because of it!" Come to find out, his drinking buddies had been, for quite some time, in the process of convincing him that the fertility issue wasn't on Elantia but it was on him. With Carmanos being the equivalent of the town fool by that point, they thought it would be hilarious to purr lies into his ears of his wife sleeping with another man and getting pregnant by him instead. It took a little while, but eventually, most likely due to all of the drink he'd consumed that particular time, he wound up believing them and it ended up being Dago's downfall. Though it initially seemed that Carmanos' wrath would be taken out on his son, it was his wife who ended up being the target. Carmanos swung his closed fist at his wife at his own risk, though. Dago wasn't about to stand by and watch his mother be beaten over such a ridiculous, unfounded (he looked more like his father's side than his mother's) claim. He jumped into the fray, tackling his father off of his mother and giving him a taste of his own medicine, just about knocking the drunk out of him.

Just like Dago wasn't about to stand by and let his mother be beaten, Carmanos wasn't going to let his son get away with fighting back. It just so happened that a slave trader traveling through the area had been drinking nearby Carmanos and his friends... and when the trader moved on, teenaged Dago went with him in chains while his father repeatedly counted the coins he was given for the sale of his son. Southward Dago went, left to wonder what became of his mother due to the lie of a small pack of drunkards. He changed hands several times, mainly being tasked to manual labor of some kind or another, until at age twenty he was sold to a traveling salesman of expensive goods. The man needed another guard to protect his wares (and himself, of course) and, though Dago wasn't as impressively built as some of the other options, his price was right. He would serve the man for three fairly uneventful years until several bandits attacked them on their way to do business in Rome. Dago fought them off valiantly, proving to be the most capable guard of the several the salesman owned at the time. His master was so impressed by his capabilities, in fact, that he decided to cash in on them, selling him to a slaver as a gladiator prospect.

So Dago found himself in Rome with the slave trader instead of the luxury trader, but it wasn't long before he was purchased and put into training to become a gladiator at age twenty-three. It was at that point his name was changed to Amatus. A light armor specialist, the newly dubbed Amatus managed to skillfully survive for five years (and he changed hands once more within that span of time), until his most recent match went... wrong. Horribly wrong, actually. A man's leg isn't meant to go in the direction his leg was broken in, to put it as least gruesomely as possible, and he wound up battered on the ground with the crowd yelling for his death. Somehow he managed to muster up the strength to deal a death blow to his opponent at the most critical moment (he will forever state that he has no clue where that strength came from). Though victorious, he was left with permanent injuries— a limp in his left leg and nerve damage that caused his right hand (his dominant) and arm to experience sporadic muscle weakness, pins and needles, and pain after extended use. Amatus felt sentenced to death, knowing he couldn't survive another battle with his physical setbacks. Fortune shined on him, though, for over the time his master Longinus had owned him he'd earned the man's favor. Once recovered, Amatus was brought to the master's household, enlisted as a house slave in his twenty-eighth year.



Mobius | EST/EDT | PMs or Discord (Mobius#4712)


Edited by Mobius
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