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 Personal Logs: Octavia

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PostSubject: Personal Logs: Octavia   Tue Apr 24, 2018 9:57 pm

An Introduction
Buying A Beast

Biird: The midday sun was beginning to slant. It would be another few hours still before her father finally decided to pack it in and drive his family back to their villa where the induction of all his newest slaves would meet his wrath so there would be no mistaking who they were now owned by and what their purpose was. Though he had been born to lower class, a subject never to be spoken of, Quintis Oranius Salonius had no heart for the down trodden or those who struggled to feed themselves. As far as he was concerned if they couldn't rise beyond what they were, they deserved the punishment for that alone. A man of average height, not quite gracing six foot but standing tall all the same, Quintis was slender, a frame to constantly remind him of his years of starvation and drive him forward toward more and more coin. His blue eyes were icy, reflecting his very soul. Even his rare but genuine laughter or smiles couldn't warm the orbs that pinned their prey or stood unwavering to an opponent. His hair was black as night and his skin polished alabaster.

Standing at the base of the auction block, arms folded, freshly sewn sandals in the sand, Quintis was a vision of regality and pomp with his deep red toga and thick warm shawl. With him, as always was his family. His wife, Lucilia, was a vision of beauty; blond, blue eyed, buxom. His twin sons, though only seeing their fifteenth name day, were nearly the height of their father, standing shoulder to broad shoulder, sinewy flesh cut around blossoming muscles. Their once golden blonde hair was starting to darken to bronze to match their skin and their blue eyes were just as piercing as their father's. The twins were more frightening than their father however, for they could turn that ice into a warm and inviting hearth with a snap of finger or the blink of those devilish lashes. They possessed their mother's charm and wit and their father's lust for power and blood. Like tame lions, they were both beautiful and frightening to behold, but it was so easy to forget how dangerous they were when they wanted you to forget. Their toga virilis were the same deep red as their fathers but their ever broadening chests were bare save the spare fabric which was slung over one shoulder, one opposite to the other and tucked into their waistbands.

A foot away, slender, short, with blue eyes that pierced with warmth that wasn't a lie and a softly angled face framed in brown waves, was the daughter of the Salonius house. Octavia Titania Salonius, stood just far enough from the pit of serpents she was born to not garner any sort of hushed, but long and threatening lecture about publicly disowning or shaming her family that would undoubtedly end with a trip to The Switch once they returned home. She pulled her thickly fur collared cloak around her lithe little form the sun began to touch the horizon. They day was almost over, not that leaving the sale and shame of humans would grant her any reprieve from the atrocity. Once they were home, the villa would be filled with the screams of those being branded, beaten and possible worse, depending on how the twins were feeling. Her mother and father were having the same argument. Her mother's patience for standing amongst commoners was waning and so her usual questions began to bubble forth: why did they have to do this? Why must the entire family be present? Why couldn't he hire someone to go with him? To which her father always replied: Slaves were the market they traded in. For the family to be strong they must all understand some aspect of the business and finally that hiring a trader was for the weak, the lazy and the foolish. It was a waste of good coin.

As their argument ended with tenderness and reassurance that the day was almost won, three slaves, massive men, wrestled with beast onto the block. This creature, this wolf, must have been the source of the unusual unease of the day. The source of that pain filled, vengeful howling that no one seemed to escape bar leaving the city completely. The animal was the size of the horse, a good and sturdy plow horse but clearly a wolf. It's white fur was like fresh snow but it's eyes were angry, it's massive maw poised in an never ending snarl that overran the howls with guttural growls now. His mere appearance on the block was met with a hush, quickly followed by hushed murmurs that rose to shouts of curiosity and want. Immediately and foolishly, Octavia was intrigued. What a marvelous animal. What a hug-gable, lovable, ball of fluff! In an unprecedented move, the girl crossed in front of her mother to her father. "Father. I want this one. He's beautiful. I want him." This exclaim was met with suspicion but it soon weathered away to her father's own want. It was true, what a glorious creature to add to his stable of fighters. After a great deal of effort and the near lost of this limb or that, the slaves finally managed to chain the creature down and the auction began.

Nomad: The night had ended far too quickly for the beasts liking, not that it mattered much for it had spent the entirety of it locked within a cage fit for one of his stature and power, barely. When the sun broke the horizon the beast could feel a familiar gaze gripping at his consciousness, almost like a lullaby but more demanding. This, however, was the first time in a long time he had not even been allowed to stretch his legs during the Blood Moon. Chains had kept him pinned to the ground and there were just enough of them that he could not gain any sturdy support under him to break them. When the door of the cage opened, the beast immediately howled and snapped at the men that tried to enter. Most were slaves, their masters behind them well protected by the meat shields they sent in their stead.

"Damn beast, you have cost me enough slaves!" One of the humans spat at the massive wolf. "You will not cost me another, be careful you idiots." A whip came down upon the back of the one that was almost breakfast causing him to stumble. These slaves were not the norm, they were larger, extremely well muscled and strong. They could have been gladiators but obviously their owners had other, less reputable, plans for them. The others were more careful now, not wishing for a lashing of their own as they circled the massive wolf. "Why have you not changed, monster? The sun has risen." The human demanded which garnered strange stares from the other 'nobles' present thinking the man possibly mad. None bothered to voice their thoughts however and watched silently as some chains were released while four of the slaves made sure to keep the chains upon the beasts legs securely held.

It took a while of preparation, so much so the sun was passing mid day before the beast saw the sunlight and almost recoiled from it's presence upon his ashen white fur. His grogginess was becoming far more apparent as each step had the beast almost stumble, but never was his ferocity called into question, snapping at almost every person that came a bit too close. That of course included the slaves that held firm to his shackles. When they arrived at their destination, some viewing post so everyone around could behold the beast, the slaves tied him to four massive posts again, his limbs stretching in very uncomfortable directions to the point it was surprising one didn't snap or dislocate. Or at least it would be been surprising but this massive wolf was hardly your normal creature. And with him seemingly secure enough, the auction could begin, the auctioneer staying a healthy distance from the beast.

Biird: A nervous excitement settled over the crowd. The slaver was eager to rid himself of the costly beast he'd been all to excited to win only months ago, but the beast proved too much for his meager means and instead of rising his station by the glory of the arena what the slave boy, when he was in human form, won in the arena only seemed to be enough to cover the expenses caused by the wolf form. And with three moons a month, he simply was not worth it. Untamed, an unrelentingly force of destruction, the beast was all too slowly relinquished of the slaver's hand. There was hope, however, because as the man looked out into the crowd there were more than a few eager faces with fat purses. His house would forever be calmed by the removal of his blight. For the brief moment before the auctioneer began his introduction of the creature, the slaver pressed his hands together and looked to the sky. His lips were moving but no sound stretched past his own thoughts, 'I have learned, my Gods. Oh by thy mighty have I learned the lesson of greed! Never again will I press beyond my station for you have shown me the dangers within! Rid me, O Junus, of this grievous sin so that I may live humbly once more.'

"Friends! Patrons! Please do not fear!" shouted the auctioneer, settling the fearful pull of the crowd around the raised dais where the beast was still struggling. The man beckoned people closer to the auction block and cautiously they came. A single snarl or snap from the creature and a gasp rushed through the crowd, prompting the auctioneer to chortle happily. It was though he were gathering a crowd for a phony freak show and not vending a dangerous animal to some unlucky bastard. Stretching his arm to the left, where his family was to stand at all times, Quintis heeded any notion that they would be joining the crowd. Instead, the family stood firm to the right of the auction block, nearest the auctioneer where he would be in good sight of the man and have his own clear view of the goods to be sold. The twins had no interest in the creature and instead excused themselves to stand vending fresh cuts of lamb in an exotic seasoning and an pretty but naive vending girl. She would probably be missed.. by someone. Bored, but complacent and undenibly in love and under the thumb of her husband, Lucilia drew her shawl around her and shifted so she was pressing her shoulder to the back of her husband's. Octavia remained where she had been, beside her mother, blue eyes pinned to the dais, just like her father, but for entirely different reasons.

After a bit of coaxing, the auctioneer did finally manage to calm the crowd enough to begin the bidding. The act of bidding was both quick and slow. Arms jolted into the air the sounds of coin purses emptying. The more seasoned bidders such as Quintis and his rival Dominus, did not raise their hands into the air, waving madly for attention. No, they simply lifted two fingers before their chests and were always in a position for the auctioneer to merely shift his eyes in order to see their bid. Of course, a good auctioneer always knew who would be bidding on what and what any one person was willing to grasp up. Even before the bidding, he'd already known the two men would be the last standing in the fight for the beast and poor Quintis was starting to wane on his want, the idea that the creature may not be worth the rising price. Octavia, too, could see her father beginning to fall back in his mind as his rival began to brighten at the thought of obtaining something the fellow Dominus wanted. Of course, the real glory would be in shoving that purchase in his face every chance he got. On pins and needles, Octavia's eyes darted between the two men. She wasn't sure why she wanted the beast so badly, but nothing before had ever made her heart race with such excitement.

Nomad: Some might have thought the monstrous wolf was just some stupid overgrown large variant of the natural species, well, not some but all in its presence bar the male trying to rid himself of the beast. This was not the case, the wolf knew exactly what was going on. It was extremely aware of what was happening and was far more intelligent then any would have given him credit. Though it continued to snap and growl towards the crowd, the beast's lip curled as its deep red eyes fell upon the closest slave. One more trait the wolf possessed, that none knew about, was its ability to speak, few words yes but still capable. Whispering at the slave and beckoning him closer with words none else heard, the muscle bound property took a step towards the beast and a single step was more than enough for what it had planned.

The wolf's massive maw opened wide and clamped around the slave's midsection, almost severing him in half with one bite. The one act ignited the flame that had lingered in the crowds heart from the moment the creature was revealed. Screams of terror and the stampede of feet turned the tense auction into pure anarchy as almost everyone present ran in different directions to flee the beast. Twisting with more vigor than before with the taste of blood flooding its senses, the wolf shattered one of the chains and the rest quickly followed suit. It took only a moment before the ashen wolf stood to it's fully terrifying height of seven feet tall and weighing in excess of 2200 pounds, enough force to shatter the stone under him when his massive clawed paws dug into the ground. Throwing its head back, the beast let out a deafening howl that almost shattered windows and pottery around them. The sound so loud it was as if he called to Barin, the God of War.

Lowering its head again, the beast looked around and watched the crowd still scrambling over itself trying to escape. This sight brought a visible smirk to the corner of the wolf's snarling lips. Slowly and almost like a lion surveying its lands, the wolf started to walk forward, crimson eyes jumping from one human snack to the next as if trying to decide which to eat. That was until it landed on the form of a small girl no older than six standing perfectly still save for its wailing and crying. There was no humanity in the wolf. No differentiation between adult, child, sick, elderly or wounded. Anything before him that could be killed would be, as shown with the Blood Moon Massacre a decade before. That night still sent shivers through the wolf and one moment in particular being when he slowly slaughtered his 'other half's' family. Such sweet screams that night held. Step by step he drew closer to the child until he was almost within the required distance to devour her. Already licking its massive lips in anticipation of her taste.

'Let the feast begin again.'

Biird: Octavia listened intently as the bidding grew closer and closer but her eyes never left the creature that was weighed down by heavy chains and held by slaves. She knew danger and chaos were about to reek havoc when one of those red eyes slid toward a slave, its massive maw quivering with something between a growl and a purr. You could almost visibly see the slave's guard slid down as his arms went a little slack and he leaned into the creature as if he were hearing something no one did and for the first time too. Curiosity and wonderment would be his downfall. CHOP. The auctioneer stopped mid word as the sight of a man being nearly split in half, screaming wildly as the light went out in his eyes, sent the crowd into a frenzy.

Quintis immediately slid his arm around the narrow waist of his wife, pulling her closer but made no attempt to gather his daughter. For the stranger looking up on the family it would be hard to decipher if the man trusted the girl to follow dutifully and hold her composure in the panic or if he simply did not care for her survival. Or perhaps it was something different entirely. His daughter hadn't moved as the panic began to rise and with it the rushing breeze that pushed her wavy brown hair across her face. She simply watched as the beast bit into the man, the sound of bones cracking and crunchy echoing over the tearing of flesh. The panic allowed the creature to take his time devouring the slave before anyone on or near the block even moved to grab the remaining chains but it was too late. The slave of the slave disappeared down the wolf's gullet and he shook free of the chains, tossing slaves left and right and dropping off the auction block.

The horse sized collar around its furred neck must not have been imbued with the proper herbs or spells from The Aura or the creature wouldn't have been in its current shape to begin with. Hindsight and all that, right? Quintis wouldn't allow for such mistakes in his house, which is why before coming to any auction he purchased fresh control collars in the amount to match his anticipated purchase. Reaching into the folds of his toga with his free hand, he retrieved just that and stood idly rubbing his thumb over the clasp while he held his wife and watched the madness unfold. The man still wanted the beast. Its penchant for carnage only heightening the want. His daughter shared the want but for completely different reasons. Octavia found herself drawn to the visual of such a large beautiful wolf, despite the bloodlust clear in its eyes. Perhaps she felt something else inside the creature and that was where her curiosity truly lay. There was an undeniable feeling of something warm and strong emulating from the beast. Something human inside. In this daze of wonderment, much like the slave had been, Octavia found herself moving toward the wolf as he moved through the parting crowd.

"OCTAVIA." Her mother's screams were whispers in the wind lost in the chaos of the panic. Quintis held onto his wife, his one arm strong enough to keep her rooted in place.

The beast approached a child. The child, unaware, stood wiping the constant stream of tears from her little round face, calling for her mother. Octavia approached from the side, arm outstretched until her fingers passed over the soft, short fur of the animal's muzzle, behind his lips. An electric pulse seem to gather from the ground beneath her sandals and move like warm, pulsing liquid through her body until it flashed from her fingers where they nearly disappeared in the wolf's fur. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but still firm when she spoke. "Still."

Nomad: Slow and proud did the beast walk, head held high and watching the wailing human child. None around her wished to aid the little girl as all were too preoccupied with their own sense of self preservation. It was almost amusing that even the girl's parents were not to be seen anyplace, probably already having fled the square with little concern for anyone but themselves. And they called him a monster? It was enough to make the wolf laugh. A few glances left and right gave pause to the soldiers who were meant to be keeping the peace, not that their armor did them any good against the beasts fangs.

Just as he were to come upon the girl, a long tongue idly licking against bared fang, a hand touched the creature's face just behind his maw. Having been so preoccupied with thinking all these humans were so terrified they would dare not approach, one had and even dared to touch him. Lids blinked as if trying to comprehend the woman's touch. How dare she touch him. Who was this human? What was she that she did not cower before him? Each question raged through his mind but still for some reason he had not snapped her up like the slave moments before. Shaking his head free of her touch the beast took a half step back and roared directly into the face of the woman. Everything she wore whipped about her as if she were trapped within a hurricane, the roar long, demonic almost and burning like fire itself emanated from deep inside. The wolf's jaws were so wide apart he could almost eat her whole from sandal to scalp.

At the tail end of the roar the beast went to lunge but seem to hit an invisible wall of sorts, shaking his head again as it's nose twitched. Once more it lunged to devour the woman and again the unseen forced crashed him to a halt. The beasts rage was growing and growing and even though it was very evident no one knew what was happening, no one but the beast. That annoying side of him was gaining ground where moments before it was dormant. Why? What had this woman done to him?

Suddenly the wolf stumbled, it's back paws giving out under him but it quickly regained it's footing before stumbling again. Snapping at an unseen adversary the creature fought against something no one else knew existed. Next came a low crack and the beast howled into the warm evening air. More and more cracking and the creature seemed to start to shrink. At this point the chaotic crowd seemed to slow slightly, their numbers greatly diminished but those remaining looked on in horror, some covering their ears from the grotesque sounds. The monster's fur was growing shorter, it's maw sinking back into its face and its tail also disappearing. Next came its huge paws which turned into fingers. The change did not seem like it was ever going to stop as bones broke, realigned, skin peeled and fur molted into what looked like a bed beneath what was now the clear visage of a man. A massive, 6'3 hulking beast of a male but still a human male. Sprawled out on the ground in the remnants of his previous form, the man was completely naked and covered only in a sheen of sweat that glistened in the evening sun.

As if the wolf form was not strange enough, the man looked young but with ashen white hair, broad shoulders, even more muscled than the slaves that once held his chains and with eyes as red as the wolf's that stood before everyone moments before. After a few blinks however the male's eyes shut as ragged breath settled and he withdrew into a deep slumber. It seemed the beast was gone, for now, but as to how though no one knew. Yet deep inside the man's now unconscious head, the wolf cursed the female that still stood but a couple steps away, knowing she was the cause of his all too familiar banishment.

Biird: Completely mesmerized by this strange feeling of connection, Octavia's hand only drifted back to her own person bubble when the beast wretched free of her pet, but still floated in the air in front of her. Her fingers curled slightly, the feel of that thick, silk-like fur tingling her skin. For a long moment, the beast stared down into her soul, but as she stared back, a visage like shadows on a wall appeared behind his eyes of two figures; a man and wolf. Whatever her thought process was, it was either moving far to quickly for even her own understanding or there simply was not as her hand started to outstretch again, reaching for the man within. It was then that the beast's lips curled back and roar that rivaled the sound of war drums nearly sent her a step back. Her arm retracted, face turning slightly to the side in a flinch against the sound and the very clear threat. She could have been engulfed in that moment, erased from existence with the snap those massive jaws, but she wasn't. It didn't stop her mother from screaming her name once more, or her father from holding the woman back. As far as Quintis was concerned, the girl had a handle on whatever it was she was doing and if the beast did devour her, his wife and his sons were by far the more precious commodity; he could make more daughters.

Instead, the jaws shut without taking her along and the beast pulled back enough to lunge forward at her, causing Octavia's glossed over blue eyes to refocus on reality and not the shadow of man in some hidden dimension. She flinched, turning her face and giving the animal her complete profile but her feet were firmly rooted in place, be it from fear or something completely different. Though her eyes were closed, and her face was turned away, Octavia could feel the beast rearing back and feel him lunging again. Each lunge sent a reverberation, much like sound echoing off of stone walls, around her. After the second lunge the creature seemed to be locked in combat with itself. The sounds of the fight, drew Octavia out of her less than protective shell and toward the ruckus. She wasn't the only one either. Those that hadn't made it out of the square in the hustle turned to watch as the beast swayed and howled, as his backside dipped and his legs became weak. Her own sky blue eyes were wide with wonder, lips slightly parted following a sharp inhale at the scene before her.

He was changing. It was changing.

The square was full of sounds like a butcher's back room. Hacking, cracking, snapping and ripping where all such sickening sounds they could turn a stomach. Even the wet slurp of muscle and blood shifting and reshaping into the form of a man was horrifying. He shed his fur into a plush hide beneath him, revealing a towering wall of muscle in the shape of a man. His red eyes were wild and bewildered. His white hair looked just as soft as the wolf's fur. He dropped to his knees then face first onto what was once his own pelt. Finally breathing again, Octavia flicked open the clasp of her cloak and pulled it from her shoulders as she approached the unconscious slave. As she lowered to his side, she flung the cloak over his form. It was only long enough to cover from his shoulders to about the back of his knees.

Meanwhile, Quintus released his wife, who rushed to her daughter's side, but was walled away by the twins standing side by side, as they always did, looking down at their sister and the creature who had changed form. Quintis climbed the auction block and planted a bag of coin into the hand of the auctioneer as he cowered behind his podium. With a slight nod from the Dominus, the man rose on shaky legs and managed to bang his gavel. "Sold!" He shouted, shattering the stillness of the moment, allowing everyone around to breathe again as well. The child who hand been wailing, and hadn't stopped, was finally scooped into the arms of her mother and they were both whisked away by the father.

Reaching out, Octavia brushed her fingers along the man's head. His hair was indeed as soft as the fur. It was the briefest of touches, before she was gripped by her upper arms and pulled to her feet. Titus, to the right, Augustus, to the left, each had a hand on her arm respectively. Titus stared at her, his blue eyes narrow and searching. Augustus reached out and brushed some hair away from her features tucking the strands behind her ears. Neither of them spoke, but seemed to find what they were looking for before releasing her and parting just enough so that her mother could pass between the two. They closed like doors behind her, shoulders touching. Was that love? Affection maybe? Octavia could never be sure with them. Lucilia gathered her daughter's face in her hands, looking her over for any damage, just as the twins had done in their own strange way. "By the gods, child, what were you thinking?! You could have been killed!"

Quintis arrived behind his wife, "He is -- "

"Mine." Octavia interrupted abruptly. "This one is mine."

The shadow of a smirk passed her father's features and he gave her the slightest nod over her mother's shoulders, reaching out beyond the woman to hand his daughter the command collar. When she reached for the collar, Quintis held it firm for a moment, his thumb passing slowly over her forefinger. He was proud of her. It wouldn't last. He knew it. She was too stubborn, too willful, too defiant but despite all that, he did indeed love his daughter, even if he couldn't allow her even the slightest reprieve.

The gentle touch from her father would be tucked far into her mind; for another day perhaps. Too much had happened in such a small space of moments that the girl couldn't quite comprehend it all at the forefront of her mind. She took the collar and clasp it around the neck of her sleeping slave. The guards of the house then arrived with a stretcher and hoisted him on. Octavia followed along behind them, who were behind her family and the other newly acquired slaves back to their carriage and cages and ultimately back to their villa.

Last edited by Raven on Tue May 01, 2018 7:00 pm; edited 4 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: Personal Logs: Octavia   Sat May 12, 2018 2:05 pm

Welcome To The Ludus
Attend Your Domina

: A few days had gone by since her purchase of The Beast and his first day of training. Pitting him against Lycares had seized her heart but they both seemed to get a good sparring session in because of Doctore’s decision. Even so, Octavia had to tease Doctore for doing that to her. He’d given her a sheepish smile but didn’t comment on his decision. Not that Octavia questioned it, it would be completely disrespectful to question the word of the undefeated gladiator of house Salonious, now happily (has a gladiator could be) retired to a life of training men to be as strong as he was. The man had survived countless battles by the skin of his teeth, but still the girl had been seized by nerves at the sight. This morning, some days later, was a particularly good morning to into the ludus and perhaps try to make contact with her purchase. She hadn’t done so before because in truth, the feelings that stirred inside of her when she was near him, the visions of the beast and the man, were so strange that she did not know how she would react if he addressed her while awake. It was bad enough that she blushed and said dirty things to her best friend’s brother, Caius, the soon to be emperor. Today, she had a buffer for the interactions however, one of the bakers in town would be bringing up all the unsold wares from the past few days and those pastries and breads, paid for by yours truly’s small allowance, would be given to all the slaves and gladiators. Octavia greeted the young slave owned by the baker warmly, wiping flour from his face with a smile. They exchanged words and a laugh before the curly haired boy, pulled his cart over to the dining table and started to hand out the day old pastries and loaves. The boys already branded of the brotherhood had to make a show of getting served before the slaves and the gladiators in training, but the bolstering didn’t last when Octavia arrived beside the cart. Though she hadn’t reprimanded any of them, they gave sheepish smiles and dispersed. Tucking her skirts between her knees, Octavia hopped up on the table top and sat down, sipping a cup of wine brought to her by her personal attendant as she watched the workers of her house select and delight in their favorite treats.

: The sun had well passed the apex of the sky, though the heat still lingered and the sands beneath the feet of every gladiator could burn an untrained foot. Sweat glistened the skin of all those that now entered the eating alcove, not that anything within their was really edible but it was enough to sustain the died of a warrior. One thing that did make it bearable however and that was the random times the eldest child of the Dominus brought them breads and pastries. All the men adored Octavia and it was extremely evident by how they both treated her and spoke about her when she was not around. Admiration. It seemed that most of them did not even fight for the honor of the house itself but rather for her smile that she gifted them. At least with the younger gladiators this was true but the older ones it was less clear their motivation. As each man took their prize and offered a smile to the girl that now sat perched upon the table, Aricles stepped forward, waiting until each of the new recruits had also taken a piece of the surprising buffet. In all the Ludas he had been sold, never once had he been privileged to such a feast, even if it was stale bread, it would be better than anything he had tasted in a number of years. Stepping to the table last, Aricles was more than aware of the eyes that were upon him, they had not left his back since the day he arrived and even in a room full of people he always felt the sting of loneliness. It was yet another stone the beast within would use to hurl at his subconscious mind, battering him endlessly. Scooping up a piece of bread, Aricles offered a nod to the girl upon the table. Though he knew who she was, this was the first time he had been so close to her while his mind was not blanketed by a thick haze. 'Next time, boy, she will not be so lucky' Again the beast taunted, speaking back to the day Aricles was purchased and how Octavia barely managed to survive the encounter, though neither he nor the wolf knew just why he had been unable to kill her. A small smile was given, rare as it was, and he turned to resign himself to a corner of the room with a seat upon the floor looking back out into the training yard.

Biird: He was easy to find in a crowd, standing tall with the other tall men of the group but it was that impossibly white mane of his and those soul searching ruby orbs that took any offer of becoming an assassin from him. While trying not to be too obvious about it, Octavia watched as he made a point of finding himself last in the line. She felt her heart quicken the closer he came and her breath begin to shorten. It was a good thing that her chosen outfit was not low cut in the bosom like most others were. His eyes met her own for the briefest of moment but what nearly toppled her from the table top was that he gave her a smile. It caused a large one of her own to break out across her sun-kissed features. Then he turned to move away and before she knew her fingers were resting lightly upon his wrist and a word had escaped her that hadn’t crossed her mind, “Wait.” Octavia took a sharp inhale. She could see the wolf pacing in the shadows of magic that surrounded the man. He took a snap and growled at her, which caused her eyes to narrow and her tongue to cluck. “Oh, be seated. You’ve had your time.” From her fingers still resting on the man to the words she spoke to a visage only she could see, the eyes of the ludus were upon her and confusion sifted through the crowd like a breeze the warm earth was in desperate need of. Looking away from the wolf, Octavia angled herself to get a better look at the man. “What name do you take? Do you know me, gladiator? Do you know who I am to you?”

Nomad: The hand upon his wrapped wrist caused the man’s brow to raise and though a very small part of him wished to tug his arm from her reach he would not, Aricles was no fool to think he had any say in when or where a noble would lay hand upon him. Merely standing in silence still holding his piece of food was his only option. As if his confused demeanor was not obvious enough, it only doubled when she spoke to him in a very odd manner, so much so that it caused him to even look behind him to see if there was another that was overstepping his position. The room was filled with the same state of confusion as himself which only had him curious if there was perhaps something wrong with this girl. Looking back to her, his crimson eyes narrowed a little for the idea that she spoke to the wolf inside him was so completely impossible that the thought did not even cross his mind. So obvious was he that Aricles did not even react to the wolf's growing irritation. The beast knew exactly who she spoke too and it only served to enrage him more. Aricles, however, lightened his features when she addressed him in a more reply appropriate string of words. "Aricles. Domina of House Salonius and daughter of the Dominus." The last section of her queries however puzzled him. How did it differ from who she was. She was his Domina, same as all other gladiators present. No one had told Aricles that she had claimed him the moment he had reverted back to his human form days before. "To me, Domina?"

Biird: No one would have thought it wise to invoke a beast the size of a plow horse, but Octavia only saw in the growling, snarling creature a pup with a temper problem. Her eyes refocused on Aricles, as he called himself, and she smiled again, letting her fingers drift along his palm as her hand fell from his wrist. His skin was rough. The daughter of the house took another gulp of her wine and nodded to his puzzled expression. “Every slave here calls me Domina, but you,” She said nodding her cup to him, “you are mine.” Years of living above a ludus and still the word slave left a bitter taste of her tongue. With the many men who gladly gave their lives to the rigorous training and temptation of fate in the arena, Octavia couldn’t understand why they had to be slaves. And the workers of the house? Well, so many needed the work and the pay, it seemed the term slave allowed other people to forget that those who carried out the duties they despised were people as well. Octavia never forgot. Her sweet wine couldn’t mask the taste of the word, however. “Do you understand now? My father is your Dominus, but you fight for me.”  ‘And I will protect you.’ But she couldn’t say that out loud. Probably because she’d shown favoritism to him already and probably because she was mostly speaking about the beast within and he’d already thought her crazy for speaking to it.

Nomad: The fingering touch of her fingers actually made his skin prickle as goosebumps dotted in the wake of her fingers. The same odd colored brow furrowed as his gaze lowered to her fingers then back up to her face once again. Most slaves never looked at their owners in the eye, but gladiators were not most slaves even if they were still nothing more than property and a part of Aricles, though a very respectful individual, never really saw any of them as better than him or even a threat. It was kind of hard to be intimidated by any other living creature when he knew what lived within himself. Though he was not completely confused by what she admitted, his head did tilt slightly to the side, much like a canines would when you spoke to them, a side effect one might say of what lived within. She specifically owned him? Never would he have considered such a thing. Not just because she was a woman, but also the fact that this was her father's Ludas, everything within its walls belonged to him and the same could be said for Octavia. Though she was born a noble, her father still decided everything for her. She was barely more than a slave in fancier cloths and a little more freedom. Yet, the fact that she stated it so openly, Aricles would never think to question such a thing and instead simply accepted what she said with a nod. "Yes, my Domina." This was definitely an interesting Ludas and a part of Aricles even found himself relaxing a little more to the surroundings of his new home, though why he was unsure for at the end of the day his situation and place in the world had not changed, only the view. Though from where he stood and his crimson orbs trailed along the young girl's form, it was a view he would cherish.
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PostSubject: Re: Personal Logs: Octavia   Fri May 25, 2018 10:51 pm

Biird: His head tilted stirring in her an urge to pet him as if to calm his confusion as she would a stray dog she was offering food too and she had done that many times. Instead she smiled, thinking the reaction of him and her to him was a byproduct of his inner beast. The hand that fell from his rested in her lap now, the other holding the goblet near her lips. She watched him with a warm glow to her dark blue eyes as he mulled over her words. His response caused a hot blush to creep across her cheeks. There was something incredibly sexual about the off-handed way he accepted his face. She could get used to hearing him say 'Yes, my Domina.' Octavia was a naturally flirty and playful individual who was prone to taking things a step too far and running the risk of incurring her father's wrath, but she hadn't felt a tight knot of butterflies in her stomach since she's gotten over her crush of Prince Caius. Turning her face away, the dark waves that fell to her shoulders served to cover her blush for a moment as she recovered. It required another sip from her cup but soon her eyes returned to him. Before she could speak, however, Doctore appeared at her side. "It is almost time to resume training, Domina." Octavia nodded. He was trying to get her out of the lower levels. Instead she motioned for Aricles to sit on the bench by her feet. "Come. Eat your dessert."

Nomad: Aricles' deep and animalistic gaze remained on the small female before him, even as she turned her head from him for reasons he was unsure, though perhaps the wine was getting to her head a little. At this stage he could feel all the eyes of those in the little dinning area regarding them even from sideways glares, none of them were subtle and from what Aricles could gather even without looking back at them. They were all painting a target on his back. Even if he figured she took a particular interest in the men of her father's Ludas, her focusing conversation on a single Gladiator was perhaps not too usual. The grip on the piece of bread in his hand started to tighten, even for one who was use to all eyes on him in the midst of bloodshed within the arena's wall, this was not the attention he particularly enjoyed. When the Doctore appeared beside her, Aricles was ready to move as required but the followup words from his Domina stilled his departure. Now this was really going to cause problems and not just with the Gladiators, now the Ludas' Doctore would have issue with the new purchase. Subduing a sigh, Aricles sat where indicated knowing this woman's words were not to be questioned even if the hidden repercussions were going to be unpleasant. "Yes, Domina." Was all Aricles uttered as his crimson gaze lingered on the Doctore that offered him nothing but a glazed sneer.

Biird: Brushing her hair behind her ear, Octavia flashed her smile around the small dining area. The other gladiators in the ludus were like children. If her attention wasn't spread equally it could cause issues for the one that had her full attention. The men were already intimidated by Aricles and the rumors of his nearly demonic change, so it was her duty to have them rest easy and know that they were not forgotten by her purchase. The smile seemed to settle some of the tension in the room. Her eyes flickered up to the weathered but still strong Doctore of the house offering a smile that said he shouldn't worry. He'd worry anyway but her look did relax him a bit as he walked away. Training would resume at it's normal time. Octavia rarely disturbed his well oiled machine. She knew the older man was just worried for her being so close to Aricles. She wasn't surprised when he didn't drift far. Finally her attention returned to Aricles. The urge to reach out and touch that feather soft white hair tickled her fingers but she resisted. "There was a bit of a rush during the auction. How many victories have you seen in the arena?" No doubt her father and brother were out in the city right now gathering information on the man, but would be easy enough to get it from the source.

Nomad: Not having managed to eat anything since the sun rose, Aricles consumed the small treat rather quickly but it only played into his less than human persona that was building by the minute. It was not exactly something he was unaccustomed too so he learned to care less about the opinions of others and focus more on his own survival. Eyes remained on the table before him when he finished the pastry but when he was asked something directly he had to think. The question was not as straight forward as the female would think for some victories were his while others were the beasts and on some occasions even the victories felt like losses when the outcome was something far more costly to Aricles soul than he would like. It was yet another reason he would despise the Gods for at least human lust for blood was almost acceptable, but the Gods lack of intervention when Aricles knew they watched almost everything was detestable. The man audibly snarled in spite of himself and it caused some of the less seasoned Gladiators to even slide back on their seats offering more space between them and the titan of a man. "Are you asking mine alone, Domina, or the other side of me?" In the past Aricles had been asked the question in separate stages and even though it pained him very slightly to even acknowledge the Wolf's existence it was still a part of him.

Biird: Waves of dark hair shifted around her head as she tilted, watching him eat. It occurred to her he must have been very hungry from having been absorbed by the beast for so long then denied food as all new recruits were, whether it be by hazing or punishment. There was nothing she could do for the hunger at the moment, her mere presence and interest in him was going to cause issues as it was. Evening knowing that, it was still hard for the girl to rise from the table and leave the men to their daily routine. When he answered her question with a question, Octavia handed off her cup to her personal attendant and thought for a moment. A quiet space divided between them before her light hand fell onto his broad shoulder that was rounded with muscle. "It is not a matter of importance. I am sure you will fare well in the arena either way." Pressing her fingers into that slab of muscle the girl then slid off the table with a slight hop to her movement. It was easy to find her Doctore in the crowd, he had a favored vantage point where he always stood, ever watchful. With a slight nod, Octavia allowed the comings and goings and training of the ludus to resume. By now all of the men and the servants below had finished their treats anyway. For a flicker of a moment, her eyes lingered on the man, watched the beast pace inside then returned the man again. "Train well, Aricles." A whip cracked as she started to walk away, back to the villa.

Nomad: Octavia's words of encouragement almost had the man crack a smile but it was something he rarely accomplished without force to satisfy a certain situation. They hardly ever came naturally anymore so the very sensation of it was almost alien to the man as his tongue traced the inside of his mouth, savoring the sweet remnants of the pastry. When she moved from the table, hand upon his shoulder, Aricles remained as still as he could until her feet touched the ground before rising himself. Ocatavia looked almost fragile before such a monster of a male but she held a power all of her own that Aricles could not quite place. Perhaps it was her charm, her kindness or something deeper. But with how the other Gladiators held her in such high esteem it was very clear they would die to protect her and not by some misplaced means that a slave protected their owner. It almost seemed like, love. A small nod was given to her final words. "Thank you, Domina." Her departure plus the crack of a familiar whip signaled the end of his slight reprieve from the standard life of a Gladiator. Turning away from the table, Aricles ventured back into the heat and sand of the training yard, retrieving a wooden prop sword, a plank of wood that served as a shield and took up his position facing another gladiator that stood almost his height. Against any normal man this person would seem like a giant, but against Aricles, well, he seemed rather plain. And so the rest of the day was occupied with drills, certain patterns learned by all gladiators, the basics which were something that was second nature to Aricles at this point which was very clear by the fluidity of his movements which was surprising for someone so large. If there was one thing Aricles may hint at enjoyment in this miserable existence it was learning the different styles from one Ludas to another. They did not vary too much but just enough to make him think and even more to use in the arena when his time arose. When the final crack of the whip silenced the backing of wood against wood, the Doctore signaled the days training coming to an end. Large shoulders rose and fall as Aricles was glistening in sweat just like every other man around him. The beast would sleep tonight.
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