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Post by Gannicus on Jun 2, 2017 16:59:17 GMT
god of the arena
She asked him to not make a promise. They both knew it would not be one kept with ease, but one he would risk life for. What else was he to do with it? He had no purpose. His life had been as a slave, and only in her arms had he seen beyond the arena and glory. Now they took her from him, from the arena. He would not die a champion but a memory. His name fading with time as the one who was undefeated and disappeared--not the one who fought with honor and died the same. He would waste away rather then die with that honor--and he would have gladdly given up honor if she remained with him.
"Melitta," he said her name softly, "the only promise I can give is the one where I will find you again." He would spend his life trying, no matter the cost to body and life. "The Batiatus will grow desperate for coin. We've seen before how he hides shame from lack of coin. I will wait until moment is right, and make high offer. Then take you away before mind can change." He just needed a way to earn the coin. The Roman's love blood. He'd heard of the Pit, there was other such places that he could fight for coin. He was the fucking champion of capua! He would use that to gain her freedom. Even if it took all the years he had left.
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Post by Gannicus on Jun 2, 2017 1:17:53 GMT
 god of the arena
Gannicus had to be drunk, or he would shag his bro's girl--and he was fairly certain that shagging your mate's girl was against the bro code. There wasn't many people he would follow the bro code with but her husband had been tight with Gannicus for years. He didn't set right with him ..... mostly. On sober days.
In truth it was less and less. "Tolerance, Gorgeous," He admitted with a playful grin, and used his hand to push some of his hair back. "You get used to it and it don't brother you any more." If only that worked on her. The longer she spent here the most domesticated he felt. He was growing tired of playing house. He needed to get laid before she started looking too much like girlfriend and less like . . . . bro code.
"If you are looking to build up yours, I will be happy to help you." He teased, grinning at her as he slowly walked her way. "Then we can make bets with the locals about you drinking them under the table, and win some money." He wouldn't let her do it, but he liked to watch her reaction to his teasing. "Then, we can use the money to let me steal you away and take you to a beach where clothing is optional."
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Post by Gannicus on Jun 2, 2017 1:06:48 GMT
god of the arena
There was no fucking way he was going to walk to the gate. The Romans would have to drag him. He could not forsee walking from her touch, of will that was his own. She placed her forehead to his, and he felt a peace that was beyond his ability to gain without her. There was part of him that lead to him begging so fearless, and that part of him was the part that had little care of dying. He could fight like he did because he embraced the death. Until her. In these moments, he did not long for death, but for life. One in her arms, and preferably, in her bed between her thighs.
His hands came up to touch her face, but in his bitterness of being forced from her side his grip was strong. Not within range of hurting her, for he would never hurt her, but enough that he held firm. He knew it was not easy for her to say these words too him, and apart of him hated hearing them. "I will never be free from shackles, when I willing take the ones you have on me." Not real ones, but emotional ones. "I have no want to try." Tilting her face he kissed her, lingeringly slightly before letting her face go, and his arms wrapped around her to hold her against him. "I will not rest until I can gain coin enough for you to join me." He swore, "No matter what they demand of me."
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Post by Gannicus on Jun 2, 2017 0:05:21 GMT
god of the arena
"I give no fuck to making history." Gannicus told her, taking what comfort from the storm inside him from the feeling of her with him. He had fought this, and he was defeated. The undefeated champion could not eve win the fucking battle that mattered most to head and heart. The one for life, rather then killing. Freedom meant hell when she was left to rot while he went free.
He felt a rage that had long been absent from his chest. One that led him toward hate of the romans, when before he had given no shit to them. "They give life meaning only to take it from grasp when it becomes most important." He pulled her toward him, so she sat on his lap, and was deeper in his arms. Chest to breast. FOr once this was not even a (compleatly) sexual move, as he only wanted to hold to her so tight the gods themselves could not pull her from grasp. "How am I to leave you?"
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 11, 2017 2:35:26 GMT
god of the arena
Gannicus put hand to heart and grinned, mocking as if she had wounded him. "Honest your words are," he began, "For Venus herself would not tent to mortal men." Her voice was soft, unlike the fucks of the ludus. He enjoyed the sound of it. "I will risk death then--" he knew, that they both knew he was not near death, "--and obey the goddess commands of me." Though his tone said jest, she was in truth the most beautiful thing he had seen.
He move to lie down, but gave pause, a grin still on his lips. "You are in hurry to have me on my back." He jested, "You like your men thus? On their backs?" He could tell she was not a common house slave by her freedom here. She was trusted to move about. It made her even more forbidden for his touch--and made him want to touch all the more. He did not lie back, but rather leaned on the bed to watch her. "If I am for afterlife, give me the name of the form you take Venus. For I would know the name of my lips as I die . . . . since you will not tend me." He laughed a bit at his joke, hoping she'd turn and talk to him. "At least pause a moment, and give comfort of words spoken while waiting."
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 11, 2017 2:21:54 GMT
god of the arena
Gannicus looked around the people, looking for black hair, wide eyes and a face of Venus. When he found her gaze he felt the ground turn. She moved first and it took him but moment to join her in moving toward her. He took in the sight of her, both to drink in the beauty that she was, and to look for harm done to her. When she was within grasp Ganncius pulled her small farm into his, and wrapped his larger arms around her body. Fuck the gods she felt good!
Closing his eyes he blocked everything out but the feel of her. The scent of her. The sound of breath. "Are you harmed?" He asked without moving to loosen grip. He needed to know if she suffered from the bloody battle that had happened during the escape. He had heard that they killed many Romans. They would not have done so without resistance. Pulling back just enough to look at her face he found a smile there. The first in many days. "Melitta," He breathes her name, unable to do more then look at her--until he kissed her.
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 11, 2017 1:47:07 GMT
god of the arena
She told him, in her honeyed voice, that her prayers had been answered. Gannicus did not hold that in agreement, for it was she that was the answer. He had long thought of her touch, and missed having her near. "It is you who are in answer." He told her, kissing her lips once again. His chest felt tight and the knowledge that a parting was coming made the joy of the moment bitter as well as sweet. "There has not been a moment that you were not in thoughts, or a night you were not in dreams." He had missed her.
Turning her to press her to wall, Gannicus took another lingering kiss before getting to point. "I have come for you, Melitta." To buy her from slavery and to free her. He had done everything in power to earn coin and spent little. None on drink or cunt, for each drink would place her further away and no woman held a candle to her. "To take you far from Roman grip, and shackle."
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 7, 2017 20:49:54 GMT
god of the arena
Agron claimed he learned to nurse as farmer, and Gannicus gave half hearted grin before it faded. He felt in little mood to jest while being so exposed. Never before had injury caused him shame, but in what the Romans had done he did not wear it with pride. He sat silent while Agron played nurse and cleaned it. Waiting to hear word of of his woman to give something for though rather then injuries. It was the words that came that turned mood from sour.
At first it was as if he couldn't move, unable to comprehend the meaning. Pulling his arm from friend's tender touch he sat there trying to force his mind to term. Agron further spoke that it was his child, and Gannicus had not doubted of this. He had given though to such before leaving her. Yet had not given thought to it since. He looked around room to seek out a sign that it was truth, but had no knowledge of what to seek. He had never even held a fucking babe. Now he had one. There was much to known but he could not ask any. Floundering he looked back up to his brother. "How long?" When had she given life to their child. "What is it?" Where was it? Did she take it to market? Was that a thing that could be done? Where their not dangers there? What if they were robbed? "What name does it bare?"
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 7, 2017 17:00:33 GMT
god of the arena
The masters were away, so Gannicus used coin to buy silence and visit with Melitta. Many of these men had been friend, and after his freedom was given had shared drink. They were willing to help him seek his love for a few hours. Gannicus waited in a storage room for her to join him, hidden in case another came buy that would value the information. He had traveled far and earn much coin. He hoped it would be enough to see her from bondage. Batiauts was desperate for coin. It left Gannicus uncertain as to if this would give aid too cause or raise price beyond his ability.
When she entered, Gannicus wasted no time in stepping forward to pull her into embrace. His larger hands still fit over her face perfectly and his lips found hers. He would not waste what time they were given. He needed her to give him advice on Batiatus but he could not stop from holding her once again. He had been gone for many months and had thought of her every night. With her in arms he felt hope within grasp.
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 7, 2017 16:51:21 GMT
god of the arena
Word spread with all haste. Rebellion. The house of Batiatus had fallen to slave uprising. Melitta. It spurred Gannicus to abandon endeavors and move toward Capua with haste. He learned much along way. Of who this Spartacus was, and why he lead rebellion. Fools! One man lost wife and would lead the rest to death to honor dead memory? Gannicus did not know what he would have done in place, should Melitta had dead, but he would not have let it affect so many. Not have lead so many to certain death.
It took weeks to get to city, and longer to find trace of rebellion. The city knew his face too much for him to be unseen. Yet rumors of the slaves exiting the city had spread, when attack on mines happened. Among the caught where former brothers. Gannicus volunteered to send them to the afterlife 'for considerable coin' with intentions to ask after her before sending men to death. Yet it would not be needed. They burned down the fucking arena. Helping carry men back, he did so to seek her out. They lead him toward the old temple at base of mountain.
Upon entering, he heard many repeat his name. He had trained and fought with many but all knew his name. He could see more then just the ones from the house of Batiatus here. Everyone here would fall to Rome. Everyone but her, for he would see her far beyond their grasp. As soon as she could be ready to travel he would take her from here. His eyes moved over the people looking for a single face in the ones here.
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 7, 2017 16:04:28 GMT
god of the arena
Gannicus felt numb. Upon the dawn he would leave this place a free man. Out of his years as champion he had been allowed to spend a night here. Romans had sent him many things as gifts for his fight. He had some clothing, and some coin and no desire to leave this house. He held room away from the others, and as he sat with back to wall, he could see Melitta crossing sand. As Domina's body slave she had been present. Witness the blood. He always held pride in his winning but tonight it meant he would leave her.
He said nothing, his jovial mood now dark as she entered room and closed door. He had tried to give up freedom, telling the Romans he wished to stay with her but the people expected to see him free and apart of them. He would not be allowed to stay. She would stay slave and he forced to leave her thus. She had been heart and lover. Now she would be memory. Not waiting to waste time not having her in arms he held out his hand, silently asking for her to come to him and let him hold her. Freedom should have been highest honor. Should have held euphoria. Instead he wished Helios to never bring the sun, and for this night to last until his death.
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 7, 2017 15:36:07 GMT
god of the arena
Gannicus blinked when pushed into fucking sun, and fought grin. They would force him to learn to fight, yet held no fear of death. The days had been hard, yet bore fruit. He now had brand on arm and was saw as one of them. The Dominus held no favor for Gannicus and for that the attentions of Doctore were always upon him. They did not like him, but Gannicus held no care. After many hours under sun, one sword cut across chest, cleaving open wound, and lesson well learned. The Doctore told him to go to the medicus. Following command grew easier when you had no care--and injury to spur you.
Upon entering the room Gannicus saw her. A girl with dark hair and a face that gave him pause. "I have died, and Venus greets me in the afterlife," he spoke with wide grin upon face. Stepping closer he pretended weakness, "Medicus I had wounds all over that need tender touch." He gave doubt that she was thus, knowing she must be house slave on errand. There was no path that would allow a house with order like this to have such a pretty girl tend such ruthless men. He wanted to touch her but did not want to cause her fright or attend attentions of the whip. Instead he just stood there while unable to look away.
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 6, 2017 0:11:49 GMT
god of the arena
Agron claimed it was all he did to honor the fallen but Gannicus thought it more. His brother had gotten the others over the mountain. Safe passage gave death meaning for the warriors who died free and not slave. The slaves who now lived free honored death with life. That was what Gannicus gave life for. Or attempted too.
Agron spoke then of wanting to clean the wrist that the Roman's had put to cross with nail. Gannicus felt his body tighten and go stiff from the need to voice a refusal but it was Agron's words of his woman that stilled it. The appearance of being weak was hard for the former champion and the silence stretched before he gave nod. Agreement did not come with out cost to pride. Good fortune had it only his wrist and not hand but he would never fight again. Not with grace and power of before. "When did gladiator became fucking nurse?" He gave attempt a jest before making body relax. "I suffer nothing more then your fucking good will." Even if he did, he would not give it voice.
Not wanting to be asked about time with Romans, a condition Agron could relate too, Gannicus instead asked about Sybil. "Tell me how she fairs." He felt great need to see her once again. "She held too much innocence to be slave. I fear she will not do well without aid." He still remembered dragging her from snow.
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Post by Gannicus on Jan 5, 2017 23:57:34 GMT
 god of the arena
Agron spoke of his brother and the loss of such. Many brothers had fallen to this war, and Gannicus still did not give support toward it. Not in voice or action, though he gave aid. Training and what knowledge he could of his time roaming free. He did not feel killing would honor Oenomaus. Agron was not a champion and could not understand. Honor was from the arena and the glory of the crowd. Crixus once understood. Gannicus had sought ti give Oenomaus the honor of a glorious death, but in this his brother had found it himself.
He did not join the others for want to give to cause but because he was a slave could not find peace in being free. Killing was all he knew and only skill he had. Staying would give purpose and allow for the killing of Roman men. The roar of the crowd would be his brothers in this. Tilting his head up to Agron though without his rare smile, Gannicus gave voice to agreement, "Then let us see every fucking Roman to the afterlife." Not because killing gave honor it Oenomaus but because fighting here honored his brother. Killing was fun sport that was addition.
Standing, Gannicus moved to stand near Agron. "I have no memories of my family before the Roman's took us. I was but child. Oenomaus became brother, and friend. I did not repay him in life but I will honor him." With fighting.
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Post by Gannicus on Dec 31, 2016 1:47:21 GMT
god of the arena
Agron jested that it was good he held no sister, and Gannicus grinned "No? I thought I have seen your face above breast before!" It warmed heart to have such light conversation after the hell that the Romans could evoke. Gannicus was honored that Agron kept his woman close, and did not even care there was a goat baring his name sake. "We fucking eat him first!" Another jest, as he knew they most likely sold the milk and cheese rather then eat the goats!
Hearing tale of their travel, made Gannicus see he choice well in trying to find them. In truth he could have been looking for years had he not happened to ask the right men in the right tavern. It was not a trip of ease, but one they would not have to face again if they remained favored by the gods. "You take on many mouths to feed," he pondered, grateful for his brother's kindness. "I will reply your efforts with aid, if accepted." Meaning he would stay and help if Agron didn't mind one more. He would work on building a life near here, and helping the small farm grow. "Though aid might come slowly, killing is all I have known."
Which brought them to Agron's question of how he got here. "They thought me dead." He gave, "When back was turn a man saw me from sight, and kept me hidden until I could leave." He didn't explain how they thought him dead, but he knew that Agron would know. Gannicus had bandages on his wrist, and word had to have traveled that Crassus had put over 5,000 to cross. Even his own slave girl.
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