The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Nero Czan on 16-08-2010, 07:24:43</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>16-08-2010, 07:24:43</strong>
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				The scent of burning flesh was vivid, invading the minds of every man present. The setting sun was countered by the hazy smoke that lingered in the air. The remnants of death's cruel visit were fading, but one could still hear the groan of the wounded, and the pleas of the dying. This was War, in it's truest form, and the poor city of Elyon had witnessed it's carnage, first-hand.<br><br>The mediocre settlement was in the end barely worth taking. The General had declared it of strategic importance, but the city hadn't wealth nor prosperity, and had up until this day been barely sustaining amidst a bloody War, waged simply on the premise of prestige and glory. However, wars cost money, and if all you could do was conquer small and meager towns, your army could vanish before your very eyes, eager to stab you in the back. However, overlying politics and strategic endeavors rarely concerned the soldiers themselves. Their luck having brought them through another battle alive, they simply looked forward to plundering all they could from the ravaged city. These were their dues, Their Spoils.<br><br>It's only natural that the common man, who fought just as hard to win the battle, be given free reign to seek his loot. It was an eerie sight, as the military discipline that accompanied the strict training vanished, leaving scavengers and barbarians in their wake, eager to get their hands on anything that could be of benefit to them. Naturally, Women were free-game. More often then not, the Men were left be by their Commanders, and as such, it was not unheard of for soldiers to simply take a woman, and have his way with her, wherever he pleases. It was all considered part of the victory. It was also not hard to believe that this would occur right at this smoldering city, only a few moments ago a fierce battleground. Everything would not go 'as planned' however. There were some men who knew of these defilings, and while not entirely caring of the matter, did not for a single moment enjoy the sight of their men, Trained to be professional Warriors, becoming likened to lascivious madmen. One of these Commanders was present at the Battle of Elyon, and his name was Marconius Illador. A man of upcoming prestige in the military, he had approximately 20 men under his command before the Fight, perhaps 15 afterwards. Young and Spirited, he was a force to be reckoned with, On and Off the battlefield...<br><br>Marconius walked through the city, his advisor at his side, and evaluated the damage. As his eyes darted to the various items of interests, all boringly pointed out by his well-meaning assistant, his gaze was continuously distracted by the soldiers rummaging through the remains, like beggars in trash. Some were still out and about, ferociously staking claim to silverware and food, while others were camped with their respective troops, counting their shares, and collecting wages. Annoyed beyond his interest, he motioned for silence, at which his Advisor swiftly obliged. He spoke with a solid and professional tone, his rugged yet daring persona not allowing for a rest, even after the battle was won. <br><br>"Peleas, Give the Polemarch our report. Four men dead, One wounded. Send him my congratulations on a steady Victory." He gave a brief gaze at his comrade, with a slight nod of his head, a symbolic gesture of pardon. The advisor quickly rolled up his parchment, and with a deep bow affirmed his order, and walked off, briskly heading to the makeshift Command Tent. Marconius couldn't help but sigh as he walked towards his own camp, wondering what kind of mess his men were most likely causing. His force was universally feared on the battlefield, and he ensured the utmost discipline during such times, but after the battle was won, there was not much he could do to quell their desires. That said, he was not about to let their whims overrule his authority, and he realized there was some reinforcement to be done when he entered his camp, to the sound of a screaming woman...<br><br>He quickened his step as he approached the center of the camp, a small fire-pit surrounded by an array of tents. The soldiers on the outskirts of the group, simply watching the spectacle with the occasional laugh, were quick to notice their commander's presence, and quickly stood to attention, passing quiet cues to their fellow soldiers. He found the source of the issue, as he saw a couple men, brute-fully handling a woman, coaxing her with drunken seduction. One held her arms behind her back, as the other kissed her neck and messed with her disheveled clothing. The soldiers on the outer ring of the camp could see their Commander's expression grow darker, and their efforts to quietly warn their friends grew. Quiet and Subtle was not Marconius' way, however. He let out a loud yell to arms, akin to the roar of a wild-beast, as he strode to the center of attention. A few more soldiers nervously and swiftly went to arms, their skin breaking into a slight sweat from being caught in the act, while the others were too intoxicated with booze or arrogance to be bothered. The sight of your commander in full military armor, the metallic sheen reflecting the golden sun, was something to be respected, and obeyed. The penalty for not doing so was a steep one, and that is why there was not an ounce of hesitation as the strong-willed Marconius walked over and gripped the lusty soldier by his leather tunic, throwing him across the camp with a heavy slam. His action was echoed by his words, which more often than not, were the cause for obedience. His voice carried a fierce aura about it, one that intimidated, yet at the same time inspired. His charisma was one of the reasons behind his brisk pace up the military chain, and it was put to good use.<br><br>"You dare Disobey my orders? You dare disobey Me? Have you no Dignity, men? We have laid down our lives together, time and time again, and you still retain the foolish notion that you are free to do whatever your heart desires? You disgust me. I refuse to claim men as my brethren, if they do not even have the self-control to remain a Soldier." He turned his attention to the other participant, his expression now pale and all-too sober. He had released his grip on the woman's arms, revealing a hastily wrapped cord of rope around her wrists. As he slowly stepped back, muttering his agreement and sincerest apologies to his Commander, Marconius simply scoffed. The camp lay silent for a few moments, the thick air suddenly constricting and uncomfortable for all the men. With a slight sigh, he continued. "Well, I'm sure you two won't mind aiding with the body disposal then. Go see Poledas, by the North Gate." A quick nod of his head signaled for their leave, and they did not miss a beat. They left amidst a flurry of apologies, grateful to be off with such a minor punishment. Afterwards, the camp settled back down, it's inhabitants preparing for a well-deserved rest, and celebration. All over the city there were fires lit, and parties held. It was a usual sight after a Victory, but not one Marconius felt very at home with. His business playing peace-keeper over with, he took the captured woman by the arm, and led her into his tent. He casually sized her up, noting her proportions, among other details, before sitting her down on a wooden chair. It was obvious that for the moment he was not inclined to release her restraints, and his subtle grin showed him taking pleasure in the fact. Being a military man, he enjoyed safety, and had begun to even find humor in it. He turned and started removing his armor, hanging it on the rough wooden stand near his desk. As he finished he eagerly made his way to his own seat, and finally relaxed. He took a shallow bowl of water, and sprinkled some in his face with his fingers. No matter how much he tried, he never felt completely clean after a Battle. The blood of his enemies forever staining his mind, sitting below the skin. He shook off the thought, as he returned his attention, and amusement, to his captured maiden. "So? Who might you be then? And what'd you do to rile up my men like that?" He chuckled a bit, his playful jesting a key method of unwinding his mind and body, but not the only one.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>16-08-2010, 16:07:19</strong>
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				Life had been relatively simple for Cassandra. She’d had the same routine every day, and it had been easy, if incredibly mind-numbing. She’d prayed to the gods for change. She should have been selective in whom she prayed to. But then, she’d never known the gods as most children. Her father had been perhaps the worst teacher ever. He’d shunned the gods, as every other Sophist, and Cassandra had been double-cursed in reply: She didn’t know to whom she should pray for change, and she had been given an ill-fated name. She was not a prophet, nor did she have the slightest talent for guessing at whether someone would find love, or how a game of chance would fall. She wished that for once, she could have lived up to the ‘grand’ name a stupid farmer’s daughter&nbsp; had wanted her child to bear.<br><br>She had been washing her father’s robes in the cistern behind their home when the boy had run through screaming. “The army is coming! The army is coming!” She’d stood slowly. The market had been abuzz with the threat of war. They were border town to the City of Delphi. The town was far enough out for them not to matter. At least they had been until now. Cassandra couldn’t make herself believe it. Not at first. She’d gone back to scrubbing the worst of a wine spill from her father’s newest robe, until she’d heard the screams. It felt like her heart stopped. Dropping the laundry, she had bolted into the house. It had been an ill-conceived hiding place at best, but behind the wine was all she could think of. She’d curled behind the great pottery jugs, closed her eyes and covered her ears.<br><br>She must have hidden for half a day before she could hide no more. Her body made demands for a drink and for the privy. She had crawled slowly out of her spot, and headed out toward the privy, praying no soldier had wandered into their home. She’d prayed in vain. The first soldier had taken her by surprise, grabbing her hair and yanking her upright. Then she had screamed. He and the next had taken her, back through the house, pushes and knives guiding her path. She’d walked through the streets in bare feet, her robes wet and disheveled from the laundry, and they stank of her father’s wine. Tears had streaked down her high cheekbones, and a wealth of curly brown hair, the bane of her existence, lay heavily down her back, sweltering in the sun that already began to bale the gore onto the streets. Her deep brown eyes, like caves, wept for the carnage, the destruction around her. Her feet broken and cut from the battle’s remnants on the roads, they had pushed her into the camp. There she had fallen, exhausted, shocked. Her blood, and that of others stained her feet and robes. She’d never seen the insides of men, and she prayed she never would again.<br><br>They did not let her rest, though. The wine had flowed, and the men had tried to make a game. Again, they pulled her up, one clamping her arms roughly behind her back, yanking her shoulders near out of themselves. She’d cried out, as she felt the rough rope loop around her wrists, fibers pricking her sensitive skin. She’d fought. Cassandra had learned to fight with the other village boys. At least, she had learned until she had begun to shape as a woman. Their mothers had put a stop to the roughhousing once they had figured out that the pretty boy covered in mud was developing breasts. She’d lashed out with feet, tried to knock them senseless with her forehead, hurt them any way she could. But Cass could barely land a shot. These were trained soldiers, and she was a girl that had not fought in years. Her skin crawled from where the one’s mouth had slid, and her shoulders were sore. Shrieked threats had only brought laughter, tugged clothing.<br><br>Cassandra was near ready to give up when the men fell silent. She’d opened her near-oversized eyes to watch the man be pulled away and tossed like so many rag dolls. Her shoulders rose as the other let her go, and she immediately tried to rub the memory of his mouth from her skin. She winced as the man, their commander yelled, she couldn’t help it. His words were powerful. She could taste his anger. Good. Perhaps he would let her go. But then, where would she go? Cassandra watched the man silently, waiting for something. Fear ruled her, thought far gone. If she thought now, the screaming would start again. Everyone was dead. She followed him numbly, as his hand closed around her still-bound arm. She stumbled, but kept up. She couldn’t even feel the pain from her feet, or her shoulders. She would in the morning, mind.<br><br>Almost all of her form was revealed, her robes pulled out of place, tight around her curved, strong body. She’d been told that her wide, swaying hips would make childbirth easy; her breasts would feed strong boys one day. Now? She doubted she would live long enough for marriage, let alone children. Cassandra sank into the chair, still staring numbly ahead, not registering the twinkle of mirth in his eye, barely even noticing as he began to remove his armor. It was his chuckle that roused her. It gave her mind something to focus on, cling to. Anger. “Me?” She asked, eyes turning black with impotent anger as they focused, meeting his. “Me riling up your men?” Her voice turned into a low hiss. She stopped. What had she to say? He wasn’t a rescuer. He was just like the others. He was playing with her. He was worse. She glared at him, full lips, and small, round nose wrinkled in disgust. It was then she remembered the bonds. It was then she remembered how easy it would be to escape from them. It had been one of the games she and the boys had played, just in case they be captured by the enemy. She’d always been the best at it. <br><br>Her wrists chafed together as she worked to push a loop over the meat of her thumb as she glared at the man. Her shoulders scant moved as she worked the rope, scraping it down to the taper of her fingers. They had not done a good job tying her. Given three more moments, she could escape the ropes. Then what? She stilled, mind working. She should wait until he slept. But then, if he slept he would have… Her mind forced the idea away. She had to run. She had to get away and run forward, warn the towns, warn the city! But to do that she had to wait and let him. How could she? She was trapped, with a loop half slid down her hand, and nowhere to run.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>16-08-2010, 19:17:08</strong>
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				Marconius had a smirk he was known for, that radiated his devious and tactical nature. One that inspired fear in his enemies, as well as his friends. There was a need for control with this man, and once he had it, he reveled in the power. There was nothing more entertaining to this man than a good game. That said, he was also not one to simply take things at face-value. As a military commander, he had learned to think multiple steps in advance, and as such, his new playmate would not be going anywhere soon. Of that, he was all too certain.<br><br>He casually took one of the papers that had been brushed aside, and glanced over it, making mental highlights of what concerned him. There was an eerie silence for a few minutes as the routine was repeated, a few of the notes soliciting a subtle rage in the man's expression. When he had finished, he stood, walking out to the entrance of the tent, muttering a few words to the guards posted outside the canvas flap. He couldn't help but flash his usual smirk towards the maiden as he passed, for all but a moment. Once he had informed the guard of pertinent matters, he stepped back inside as he was saluted, and tied up the two strings that closed the flap in the event of heavy rain, or in this case, privacy.<br><br>Marconnius let out a sigh as he rubbed the back of his sore neck, his arms reaching for his chair, and fluidly swinging it around the desk, so that is sat across from his captive. He leaned his arms against the back of the seat, now facing her, and gave her the Devil's Grin, as his men had aptly named. "Now then. We have a few hours to ourselves before we move out, so I suggest we get to know each-other a bit." He chuckled as something was caught in his gaze, the subtle confidence in her eyes, overlapping with a vicious hate. He would enjoy this. He nodded over to the 'entrance' of the tent, and spoke with a calculating tone. "Before we start having a civil conversation, let me say a thing or two. One, no matter if you're bound or not, I'm afraid you won't be leaving. If you somehow manage to leave this tent before I stop you, I seriously doubt that any of my men would allow you to run without my command. I'm pretty sure you saw how stricken they were with my earlier performance." His grin widened, his mind ensuring victory in what was essentially, just another Battle. His entire life was War, and the militaristic outlook suited him nicely. The playful nature of his entertainment slowly invaded his tone as he continued. "Two, I'm not sure how well you know your way around these parts, but from my perspective, I'm your only shot at living. In the morn the army moves on, An invasion to our front, and a burning country to our rear. There is no refuge for you, except with me. My men would not kill you, but if you'd rather spend your time with them, I can't save you from any of their... 'Actions." He shrugged, guessing which choice she would take. Even a simple townswoman could infer the savagery that comes with war. Men were little more than beasts when it came down to it. "On that note, you truly should be thanking me. Zeus knows what they would've done had I not interfered. But we'll just call it even.." He grabbed the half-loaf of bread that laid on his desk and promptly ripped off a chunk, handing it to her. "Here, I'm sure you're probably hungry after that." He smirked as he motioned for her to grab it herself. "Take it, I'm sure your arms are free enough. I won't bite, as long as you stay on my good side."
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>18-08-2010, 03:08:37</strong>
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				Cassandra shifted uncomfortably as the commander slowly leafed through papers. She watched his expression change. She'd started to chew her bottom lip earlier, a nervous habit. She longed to drop the rope, and roll her shoulders, stand and move. She wanted nothing more than to run. Hurt him. Hurt the whole damnable army. But that wasn't an option. She tracked him as he finally stood, refusing to react as he spoke at her. Threats, promising her that escape was impossible. She wished she could discount his conversational warnings. But they had been playing with her. She could still feel her flesh crawl from where the soldier had been kissing. She wouldn't make it half way through the camp before being captured, and there would be no 'rescue' this time. She was well and truly trapped.<br><br>She bristled as he casually mentioned she should thank him. Her nose again wrinkled in a half-snarl. The ugly expression was wiped from her face, however, as he held the chunk of bread out to her. A pang of hunger shot through her stomach, but she hesitated. her eyes sidling away for a moment, she pushed the rope down, and reached for the bread. There was no use pretending she couldn't get out. He knew, same as she knew he wouldn't let her get three steps from his tent. Cassandra couldn't help the hiss of pain as she reached for the chunk, taking it quickly, as if he weren't convinced he would not bite, and pulled it close. She didn't care about grace or modesty. She ate the bread like a starved man, gulping it down almost without chewing, before crossing her arms before her, trying to relieve the stiffness. She didn't speak. What was the point? He seemed to like the sound of his own voice better than he would like hers, anyhow.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>18-08-2010, 03:30:55</strong>
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				Marconius couldn't help but laugh at her scornful expression. It was one he had seen countless times, while he was even just a foot-soldier. It was the look that placed the sole blame of all misfortune, on one pair of shoulders. He figured explaining to her how war works wouldn't do much to ease it, so he simply let it be for the time, issuing a sole statement as he leaned forward, his voice sensuous and playful, yet not in the least hostile. He had decided that a companion needed a basis of trust, and gave a strong effort to seem friendly, or at least as friendly as he could be, without seeming like a smart-ass. "I truly don't see what you have against me, But I won't bother trying to understand. I'll simply say this. War is messy business. All I strive to do is do my job with the least amount of blood on my hands, and I'm satisfied. Saving a maiden or two from the all-too-familiar hardship that follows a desecrated town is just a form of penance." There was actually an aura of peace around the man, ironically. There was to be harm to this woman, whom he had hypocritically taken as his piece of the spoils. His reasoning was beyond the comprehension of the savage men outside however. Much more humble, Humane, even. Granted, he was allowed his fantasies, but he had tried to scrape a living out of a burning city once before, and it was no easy task. After he had grown tired of eating, he tossed the rest of the loaf into her lap and strode over to the rugged clay jug that sat on his desk, filled with the delicious nectar provided to star officers. He poured himself a bowl of wine, and gratefully downed it. This woman was proving a bit of a handful, but it was the kind of thing Marconius enjoyed more than anything.<br><br>After a few more minutes of cautious and despicable glares, he had laid out her new schedule for her. She would eat when the men ate, in his quarters. She was to be bound to him and watched whenever she was in public, but allowed some freedom inside his tent. Naturally, there would be guards posted outside, but he didn't feel the need to reinforce the issue. It was an obvious point to both parties. During battles she would remain with the blacksmiths and the other members of the support caravan, if it came to that. He added a slight side note at the end, as he re-donned his armor. "Oh, and for the Gods' sake, smile. You're not doing yourself a favor by being all somber and angry." He shrugged as he snapped his sheath in place and walked towards the entrance, motioning for her to follow. "Now then, Time to meet the crew. They on the other hand, <em>will</em> bite, but I'm sure you're already wary enough." He flashed her an honestly pleasant smile, one that beckoned for reassurance. Trust was not such a fickle being however, and far from easily won. Another piece of knowledge, well known between the pair, who would be spending quite some time with each-other from now on.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>18-08-2010, 04:06:42</strong>
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				"You don't see... Because of you and your men everyone is dead!" She finally replied, scornful expression still in place. She shook her head as he continued, unbelieving of his mindset. How was he so calm? Her fingers picked at the bread as it landed in her lap, her hunger abating, f not quelled by the first portion, and his insufferable attitude. She ate slowly as he drank, eyes always watching suspiciously. Cassandra was hard put not to choke, or fly at him in a rage as he calmly explained how he expected things to be. But one thing stuck out in his decisions - she would be left, unguarded, when they were in battle. He would not sacrifice a able bodied warrior to watch his whore. And that was what she was to be.&nbsp; She could run, hide. It could work. it was her new mantra, the new plan. It may even work.<br><br>Cassandra's expression once again darkened, as he 'suggested' she smile. She chewed on the last bit of bread, unmoving from the seat. If he wanted her to meet the 'crew' he would have to sling her over his shoulder. She would not go voluntarily. She shook her head vigorously, resuming her silence. Her hands clasped the chair's seat, and she set her face in a determined, if petulant, expression. It was stupid, and futile, she understood, but she could not, and would never, make his decision to keep her an easy one. Her goal from now on out was to make him regret 'saving' her. He would be less inclined to retrieve her, logically. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>18-08-2010, 04:40:52</strong>
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				Once again, all Marconius could do was shrug. He had simply done what was commanded of him, and when it came to his Honor, he would not stand by as his morals were attacked. He was still a Man after all. "You are the blind one, <em>Missy</em>. You do not understand how it feels to be a Soldier, to kill a man who did you no wrong. No, this was not my doing. This was the doing of the evils of Politics, of two greedy nations fighting over bread crumbs." He knelt down into her face, his expression a somber one, oozing of seriousness. "If this was indeed my choice, I wouldn't have wasted my men here. We offered Peace, but your answer was to launch my messenger's head off the battlements. Don't try and understand things beyond your grasp, for you'll just make enemies out of everyone." He stood and returned to his desk, eager for the soothing essence of his drink, now, more than ever.<br><br>He sighed as he slowly walked back, taking his seat opposite her. "Figures. Fine then, Be difficult about things. Here I was trying to be a civilized gentleman, but perhaps the old geezers are right." He began to speak in an aside, mostly thinking aloud as he recalled an earlier debate on the subject. "Telementus always said the best way to get a woman to listen is to parade her naked in-front of the men, and Velekes always loves himself a nice orgy. And here I was trying to be civilized." He chuckled, his playful smirk striding across his face. "Granted, I probably won't do that to you, but perhaps you should be a bit more thankful to whichever God you believe in, that you were captured by My men, and not theirs. The gods forbid if you thank me personally." He popped up from his seat, and slid it back to it's original position behind his desk. As he leaned against the wooden edge, he glanced down at her with an expecting expression. "So, seeing as you're going to be with us for a good while, you can either come out with me willingly, Or I can tie you up like an exotic courtesan, and then you'll come out with me anyways. I'm sure I know which option my men would prefer, and I do try and please them when I can..." He smirked, unwillingly, at the thought, but let it pass as he chuckled. The men would despise him for taunting them so, as he knew that he wouldn't let even a single finger be laid upon her now. She was a fun one, and he looked forward to the days to come, with exotic anticipation.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>18-08-2010, 05:11:32</strong>
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				Cassandra stood her ground, glaring at him as he again threatened her. "Everyone I know is dead." She said quietly. "You expect me to fall at your feet? Perhaps you drink far too much wine." Her voice was quiet, and she was disinclined to raise it. "I do not attempt to 'understand things beyond my grasp'," she continued, before shaking her head. Why did she try to even communicate with the brute? She was chattel to him, it was clear as the sun in the sky. She was to fall at his feet, obey his every whim, despite the fact that he was a part of the army that had destroyed everything she knew in one fell swoop. She didn't care what had happened to his messenger. He was a soldier. Her Father, the women in the square, they were not soldiers, thy were innocents, cut down by a savage army bent on ransacking and looting in the wake of their commander's political greed.<br><br>She ignored his threats, hate curdling in her stomach with his every grin. She struggled, wanting to be stubborn, she hated him. Spite was the attractive option. Her eyes slid away from him, as she forced herself to breathe. It was too much, all of it. Everyone was dead. She would never see them again, and she was the whore to the enemy. She wanted to scream, cry, hide away until it was all over. Instead she stood, eyes on the far side of the tent. She would walk with her own dignity and on her own feet. Pride won over spite, and she prayed he left her with the hangers-on soon.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>18-08-2010, 05:35:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius treated every situation like a battle, as the military was in essence his life. Therefore, it made perfect sense to him that perhaps a change of strategy was in order. This woman would not listen to him, and her reasonable hate grew with every moment. Kindness would not prove very effective. Which left Manipulation next, a personal favorite of his. He would slowly, and subtly, mold her into the picture of his desires. Granted this would be no easy task, and he did have a war to fight, but this would still prove to be a nice hobby. A delicious one too, if his plan proved successful. He smiled to her as she stood, glad to see at least the slightest bit of reason. The lesser of two evils was always a smooth card to play, and it seemed to had worked just as well. Nevertheless, his kindness had been worn out, and his mind was itching to play. His smirk took over, a devil's grin mixed with a drunkard's smile. Deviously playful, and cheerfully deceptive. "That's a Good Girl. Now then, let's get moving, I'm afraid you've worn my nicer side out." He gracefully strode to her side, and firmly placed his hand on her wrist, as his other swiftly untied the knots barring their exit. Perhaps he would do this sometime with her nude after-all, her attitude would decide that.<br><br>He strode from tent to tent, starting with his trusted advisor, and took her through his chain of command. Granted, there wasn't much to it, but it was a considerable bunch of five. He simply introduced her as a Muse, Their Muse. The meaning was obvious, and the implications many. Her stubborn pride and hate would probably deny him knowledge of her true name, and, ever so slightly, his interest was waning in it. Conversely, his entertainment from this game had only grown, his mind enjoying the challenge, and hoping to pass it's rewards onto the body. His grip on her would never release, but simply shift, in fluid motions while he spoke. When he was speaking with the Quartermaster, commenting on getting her some more fitting clothes, his arm slid down her luscious hips, his grip firm, yet not constricting. He smirked to her as he returned to his way of "holding hands," saying his goodbyes to the supplier as they headed back into the center of camp. "There. Was that so difficult then? Dwelling on the past will get you nowhere, except a good bit of trouble. Remember that." He sighed as he walked her back into his tent, ignoring the shouts and whistles of his men. Why would she expect him to understand her when she wasn't willing to do the same. A naive girl like her has no place judging his actions, or men. She would be taught though, in due time...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>18-08-2010, 17:00:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra followed where he lead, dragged by her wrist, stiffening at very set of covetous eyes, every shift he made. She did not speak, she refused to react as he first introduced her as 'a Muse'. She knew the word, though not any of the legends behind the muses. But she could understand what he was implying. She was a mascot. Her pride burned, her hate festered. She bit her tongue as they walked, following him back to his tent. Her mind worked, beginning to plot her escape already, hanging on to her ire. If she didn't the fear would come back. She did not respond to his callous words, simply returned to the seat he had put her in with her arms wrapped around her body. She wouldn't look at him, for fear of him seeing what she thought. <br><br>She did, of course, knew, if only academically, the horrors of being a soldier. Despite every man's dream to defeat the enemy, most do not understand he horror of it until they had cut down an enemy. Her father was a scholar, a Sophist. She was learned. She highly doubted the commander would even think she could read. Good. She could spy until she had the chance to run. Cassandra may have read about the horrors of being a soldier, but there was too much pain, too much mourning to acknowledge it, now. He was her enemy. He had destroyed her family, and to hades with whomever told him to. Never mind he was a man following orders, making a living. <br><br>Her hands gripped her arms hard, as she waited for his next move. Would he demand she disrobe? Would he demand she serve him as a slave? He offered no clues as to his intents. As she pondered, her mind drifted to the pain that was resurfacing. Cut and bloodied feet, wrenched shoulders. Never mind the pain of her being. He may not have been perfect, but he was her father. He taught her to read, philosophy and how to think. He may have neglected her at times, but she had grown strong from it. And now he was dead. She was an orphan. Nobody would save her. She would have to do it, herself. Loneliness washed over her, dampening her anger, but fanning her hate. The commander was her target. He'd chosen to take her as his spoils. He had chosen her ire.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>18-08-2010, 20:13:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius returned her hard glare, yet another battle. This woman was full of them. It wasn't hard to understand, however. He had dealt with a lot of these types before. The war devastated family after family, and as much as he tried to fight it, his soul had grown rough in the service of his nation. Slowly, he stopped being able to care for the orphans and the lost souls. He was becoming just like the veteran Captains and those he despised. It was a sad fact, but not one he'd accept easily. The thing that the pair had in common was a profound amount of pride, up to a dangerous extent. His eyes, the same white orbs that had commanded the will of a dozen men, and diminished those of a hundred others, gazed deep into hers, as if he was searching for some hidden gem under the skin. This was simply what he did while he thought, as to keep his opponents wondering and buying him just a sliver of time. It was useful in debates, and it had grown into a habit of his. He shook off the feeling with a slight smirk, as he heard the rapping on the canvas exterior. He walked over to the entrance and said his thanks, as he took the bowl of slightly green-tinted water. It was placed down at her feet, and there was where he knelt. Without a word, he lifted her foot up, and carefully picked out the pebbles and sticks stuck inside. He figured anything he said would be met with stern resistance anyways, so there was no point in speaking then. He wasn't exactly the best at this kind of thing either, so preferred to do so in silence. Once he had cleaned out all the debris, he slowly dipped her foot into the water, a slight sting in it from the herbal medicine. He then proceeded to do the same with her other foot, once again without a word. Once he finished, he stood and with a slight smile, went back to sit in his seat. He chuckled as his timing was spot-on, and the first of a wave of late-night matters walked into his tent.<br><br>After all was said and done, a tired Marconius and a vengeful Muse were left alone once more. There was one last dilemma to deal with however. It was not a particularly difficult issue however. "Hmm... I guess this will have to do." He chuckled as he went and unclipped the cape attached to his armor, one he had vocally shared his annoyance with. Capes were only a sign of one's pompous attitude towards his own worth, but he had been forced to wear it for his victory march. He smirked to himself as he laid it across the ground, a sort of satisfaction arising from the sight. He then walked into the back of the tent, and threw his pillow near the edge of the make-shift bed. "There you go. I'm sure you're not stupid enough to try and escape when the men are most wary, but I'll just warn you nonetheless. Escapees are executed on sight, so please don't get yourself killed. 'Night then!" He waved to her as he ducked behind the curtain that separated the two sections, and laid himself down on the padded ground. His "Bed" was essentially a giant pillow, made for portability and travel. He wasn't exactly bothered by sleeping without a pillow either, as he always enjoyed the notion of treating himself to the same conditions as his men. He slept a wary sleep, but a well-deserved one. In the morning, he would return to work, and doing so with this new partner brought him some intriguing excitement.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 00:04:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra started as a slap to the side of the tent sufficed as knocking. Her eyes tracked the commander curiously as he walked back with a bowl that smelled faintly of herbs, though she couldn't place which. As he cleaned the cuts out, she bit her lip, the stinging pain not quite a match for her pride. It was all she had left. She stared as he moved back to his seat, perplexed at his sudden care. She'd not once mentioned her feet, how had he noticed?<br><br>"Thank you."<br><br>Her voice was quiet, none of the anger from before tinting her words. He'd shocked it out of her. She watched silently as he dealt with his matters, her feet tucking onto the chair with her, under her stained and ruined robe. She took her time, listening carefully to the discussions, and studying him. He would have been attractive, if he were anyone else. even some of the air-headed girls would have found his attitude charming. It was... when he didn't speak. She tried to memorize the names, and positions of the men he spoke with, but did not get far with it. She would need more time with the men. Twenty in thousands. But if she learned how they worked, and who he reported to, maybe she could piece together who commanded the army. Perhaps it could help those in their path.<br><br>The final shock of the day was the makeshift bed. She'd been, amongst her 'spying' trying not to think of what he would demand of her. She stared, open-mouthed after him, as he disappeared to his bed, and made the sounds of settling in for the night. She remained in her seat in the darkened tent, unable to believe her luck. And puzzled over him thoroughly. He was acting like a person, not a soldier. She gingerly stepped to the tent's entrance, and peeked out. The two guards were still posted, and the nearest shot her a look. She retreated back to settle on her 'bed'. Wrapping herself in the cape, and pillowing her head on the feather-filled sack, she sighed. It had been simple when he had been a monstrous soldier. Now she wasn't certain what to think.<br><br>She drifted off pondering him, into a deep, nightmare-filled sleep.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 02:18:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius fell asleep swiftly, embracing the rest while he could still get it. It had been a difficult day, and a peculiar night. Accordingly, the sleep was not much. He lay in his bed for the majority of the night, the faces of his lost men swarming his hazy mind. It was a nightmare that accompanied his position of command, and one that could only be controlled with experience. So far, that had been unsuccessful. That had been partly due to the fact that his Militaristic facade only carried so far. Although calling it a facade was somewhat of a stretch. He enjoyed war, and as any man, the adrenaline of a Battle was a joyous occasion. However, he felt there was enough death in his own Battles, and could only try and prevent any further casualties for him or his men. This now included this 'Muse' of his. His mind was slightly settled when his thoughts turned to her however, and he found it... Odd. He smirked to himself as he saved the question for later. There was work to do in the morning, and he didn't have time to mess with <em>Feelings</em>.<br><br>After a rejuvenating three or four hours of sleep, Marconius groggily arose from his bed. He rubbed his eyes as he strolled into the main section of the tent. He nodded nonchalantly to his companion as he swiftly donned the suit of armor, despite his fatigue. He let out a heavy sigh as he smiled towards her. "I hope you had a nice sleep. Perhaps you're a bit calmer now... I should apologize for last night. I was perhaps a bit insensitive to your situation. Zeus knows that my soul is not the cleanest. I lost a few close men yesterday, and my mind wasn't entirely clear. Forgive me. Onto more serious matters." His smile slightly dropped, forming his usual smirk, although not necessarily in a condescending fashion. His voice was indeed professional, and the last .thing he needed was criticism for what the scholars considered 'Radical' or 'Soft' principles. "When we embark, you'll have to stay as close as possible. My men do not share my sense of mercy, and fewer even know about it. You may be an equal in my tent, but out there, to those men, You are simply another Spoil of War. I'll do my best for you, but promise me you'll try and cooperate. That's all I'm asking of you." He extended his hand in a gesture to join him, as he strolled to the entrance of the tent, his body gleaming in his armor, and his demonic eyes gazing ahead of him. He was no longer Marconius the man, but rather Marconius the Commander.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 02:55:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra woke as a sliver of light hit her eyes. She groaned softly, a hand coming up to scrub over her sore eyes. The soft shuffle of armour being donned slowly registered to her. Despite her urges, she cracked her eyes open to find the man who had captured her. She was, at present, tangled in said man's cape, and his pillow was wedged somewhere under her left shoulder from her thrashing last night. she remembered her dreams, vaguely. Twin trails of dried tears stained her cheeks, and she struggled to sit up. She'd been crying in her sleep. She nodded in agreement to him as he chatted idly, keeping her eyes down. "Thank you... for... for being civil." She struggled to find the words. "I, too, owe you an apology. The blame does not lie solely on your shoulders... shall we call a truce?" She proposed, her red-rimmed eyes finally meeting his for a hairsbreadth of a moment. She did not want him to see that she had cried.<br><br>She struggled from his cape, fighting a wince as her feet took her weight. Slowly, she worked to untangle herself, and offered the length of fabric back to him. She nodded her understanding to him. She would stay close, and not offer him trouble. She would return his courtesy until she had the safe opportunity to flee. Then she would disappear, and he would go on with the army. It would be good, as long as she could get away clean. She gingerly stepped after him, her grubby appearance beside his shining armour for a moment making her self-concious. But it didn't matter. She stayed behind him but close. That was how she would endeavour to stay. She didn't want any overzealous men misinteroperating her actions.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 03:25:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled as he knelt down to her level, nodding slightly. "A Truce it is then." He smirked as he stood once again, strolling to the entrance, and not the least bit eager to begin the long day's work.<br><br>Said work began with a routine disheveling of the camp. Each troop disassembled each piece of the tent-structures, the canvas, the racks and desks. It would all go into the massive train of wagons and carts that comprised the War Caravan. After supervising that for an hour or so, as well as partaking in the Oh-So-Fun labor, they took their position near the front of the army, and moved out. A couple hundred men had been left in the city as semi-permanent guards, until the appointed governor arrived with his own men. Marconius knew a few of the commanders who had stayed behind, and wished them the best of luck. It was a sad loss to the army, as had most of the latest events. Yet still they marched, under the heavy care of Ares. He didn't believe for a second that their successes belonged to the Polemarch, not to that gluttonous fool. His strategies were stolen from his council, and the credit went undivided. He led a disgruntled army, bounding on the edge of mutiny, yet this was not uncommon. Mutiny was unlikely this far into the enemy territory, as then you simply have enemies everywhere you look, and these officers were not insane. Dumb, Ignorant, and Immaculate, but not Insane.<br><br>The march went without ambush, confrontation, or conflict for most of the day. The cartographer's maps were unclear, and the army encountered a river that was not supposed to be there. This resulted in an annoying decision to build a makeshift bridge across it, to allow the passage of the supplies and treasures. Always the optimist, Marconius smirked. He had walked most of the way so far, but suddenly called out for his horse. He called for a couple men to aid him as he jumped atop his steed. The help was not for him, as the men, not very careful about where they gripped, helped propel the woman atop Marconius' horse, sat firmly behind him. He turned his head slightly and spoke, before galloping off to the front of the army. "I'm thinking we should enjoy this delay while we can."<br><br>As Marconius approached the construction site, the army now camped along it's path, he took a brief turn, going a good distance downstream, lest he find himself amidst any rowdy soldiers. As they approached the river, the sparkling water beckoning to him, he dismounted his horse, helping his Muse do the same. It was a beautiful site, and any chance at a cleaning was welcome after a battle. The decision to force march through the countryside was not one he chose, nor liked, but he intended to make the best of it, and use any opportunities he could. "Come on now, I'm sure you're aching for a bath yourself, if not simply for the mind." He chuckled as he tested the water. Perfect.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 04:06:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra trudged along with the army without complaint, as the wounds in her feet began to bleed again, bits of rock and grass again embedding themselves. Her shoulders slumped under the punishing sun, as dust stuck to her, and the men shifted around. She kept her eyes in-between his shoulder blades, and followed, trying to ignore the discomfort. It as hard going, she'd never walked this far in her life, but there was no choice in the matter. A sigh of relief escaped her as word filtered back to their unit that they would be stopping for a bridge to be built. She was ready to collapse. As he called for his horse, she frowned up to him in confusion, wondering where he planned to go... If he would bring her. She had no doubt that if he left her, she would be dead within an hour. Whether the men meat to kill her or no.<br><br>As they grabbed her, pushing her up behind him on the horse's withers, she yelped, one hand pushing right between her legs, and another four on her buttocks. She scrambled aboard as best she could, swinging her leg over the horse's flanks, and scooting forward until her thighs embraced his hips and the horse. She was not going to take the chance of being thrown. Without solicitation, she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Though she had always been interested in the gentle beasts, she'd never ridden one before. Cassandra counted herself lucky that she had not toppled over the other side of the beast's bottom. Her legs clamped tightened, as the horse broke off, arms squeezing him tightly. She did not understand how he could stay so steady while bouncing along. Her bottom and back started to ache within moments.<br><br>She pressed her face into his back the entire way, until the horse slowed. She slowly relaxed her grip, and looked up, seeing the river stretch before them, and nothing but smooth rocks and grass. The army was far enough away to almost forget about. She threw her leg back over the horse's large backside, and slid down from her belly, after he jumped so easily down, for once grateful of his hands upon her, steadying her as she dropped back to earth. She looked over to him, and nodded, though she was loath to disrobe before him. "Thank you," She said softly, taking the few steps to the river bank. First in were her feet, the cool water soothing the swollen pain. She groaned, eyes closing for a moment, before pulling one foot close, to pick the debris out herself, today.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 04:30:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled as he saw her commit to healing her once again wounded feet. He removed the metal components of his armor and set them by his horse, which he promptly tied to the nearest trunk. The last thing he needed was a lost horse. Refocusing on his prior thought, he knelt down beside his Muse, his sincere, and usually hidden, smile coming through. "When we return, I'll get someone to fetch you some sandles from the wagons. It's an easy task when we're not stretched out on march." <br><br>He put his hands tightly together to form a cup, and filled it with the smooth, refreshing water. He splashed some on his face, his hands brushing through his short black hair. It was a nice sensation after a long day's march. He wasn't exactly tired yet, but he could imagine how his companion was doing. She didn't seem like a rough farm-hand, and anyone but would be near-exhaustion by this point. He playfully made another cup of water, and threw it towards her, the water splashing all over the front of her body. His mind fell to her thin white clothing for a moment, curious about what lay beneath, but he brushed the feeling away. <em>Not the time, nor place.</em> He let out a small sigh as he smirked, and waded out further into the river. The current was minuscule, and as soon as he found this out he briskly walked back to the edge of the water, and with a nonchalant aura, began stripping the layers of his clothing off, one by one.<br><br>First came the leather jerkin, a minor form of protection that compounded with the metal breastplates and greaves. Then, he laid out his under-shirt, an off-white piece of plain linen, simply there to prevent any uncomfortable chafing from the armor. And finally, while still in the water, came his trousers. They had gotten slightly wet during his exploration of the river, so he gently tossed them further towards his steed, allowing them some sun to help dampen the water. Marconius was completely oblivious to the woman, but at the same time, was doing this somewhat because of her presence. How would she feel when the man who essentially saved her life after destroying it, and had treated her with nothing but kindness so far, decided to go nude and take a nice swim. It wasn't exactly unheard of, but he was still curious. And so he waded further into the river, his chuckle echoing his entertainment as he spoke across to her. "Don't be shy now. I did say I won't bite."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 04:43:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra looked up, as he knelt beside, her large, mournful eyes meeting his as she nodded. "Thank you," she replied softly, looking back down. She longed to splash in the water, wash the sweat and dirt from her skin. She wanted to float for hours, sit on the sun warmed stones and let the heat backed into them soothe her aching muscles. Her musings were cut short, however, as a double-handful of water splashed down the front of her robes. She yelped, eyes widening as she stared to him, half shocked, for a moment forgetting who he was. A grin caught her lips, and she pushed a brief shower of water back in his direction, missing, before she returned to her ministrations. The water stuck the fabric more to her skin, hinting with shadows to the curves that rose and fell beneath the draped material.<br><br>She glanced back at him, occasionally, as he waded in, then out. The unfortunate glance was when he strode back, ass-naked. She stared a moment, before dropping her eyes, a deep blush creeping up her cheeks. She'd seen naked men, before, in books, and in the river bathing, but never a man like <em>him</em>. Muscles rolled beneath his skin, hypnotically as he moved. "How long do you expect to swim?" She asked, wondering if she dared try washing her dress. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 05:00:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled at the question, not sure how to judge it, nor respond. He wondered whether he would be needed or not, but doubted it. If there was anything official that needed to be done, Peleas could handle it. Of that, he was certain. And with that reassurance, his momentary worry disappeared, and he smirked as he answered her. "As long as I care for. That bridge won't be finished 'till at least the next morn. Usually there isn't much to be done during a delay like this, and the surrounding area is not suited for ambushes. I'm almost certain that I'm not truly needed at all today." He couldn't help but laugh at his words, his true worth laid out in black and white. He continued with his playful tone, his charisma put into an unusual use. Comfort. "I can't tell if that means I'm a good Delegator, or a Worthless soldier." He smirked as he laid across, his body floating by his own power on the surface of the water, before splashing up to tread. "To answer your question, I'm not sure. Why do you ask, my Muse?" He was truly interested, and couldn't help the temptation to draw her into the river with him. And what a temptation that was. As a man true to himself, he couldn't deny his desires, nor his feelings. Sure, he could funnel them out and concentrate when the battle began, but that only made the day to day energies more... Powerful. That's why he decided that it was a time to relax, and have a little fun, before the grit and despair of war once again bid welcome to his life.<br><br>He spoke with his usual charm and devious smirk, but with a tone of playfulness and welcoming. His voice carried smoothly on the gentle breeze, and his body relaxed in the cool water. "Come now, I'm sure you're dying for a nice soak. Or at least, your clothes are. Perhaps I can find you a pair somewhere, maybe from one of the priest-maidens in the Caravan..." His words dwindled off as he thought in an aside. A few moments later, he refocused, and continued his speech with a chuckle, as his body slowly swam towards the shore. The realization was a simple one, yet one that took a while to actually make sense to Marconius. Spending a lifetime around an army of men, one tends to lose their inhibitions. A curious thought crossed his mind, as he wondered if she would lose hers... He saved the question for later, and spoke his guess. "I take it you've never seen a naked man before?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 06:00:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I... ah... No." She replied to his last question, her face shooting though again with a crimson blush of humiliation. He was right, of course, about her dying for a soak. She needed no more encouragement to stand, her eyes averted from him, and begin her wade into the water. Soon as she was shoulder-deep, she unwrapped her dress, It floated around her for a moment, before beginning to sink. Cassandra focused her eyes on the material, and began to scrub at it best she could, trying to get the worst of the sweat and dust from the length. "I have a name, you know," she mentioned over her shoulder. She stood with her back to his, wanting to protect her modesty, still, but needing to wash herself and her robe. "Would you close your eyes a moment?" She asked him, once she was satisfied she'd cleaned her robe as best she could. She needed to lay it out and let the sun bake it dry. She couldn't wear it soaked, of course. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 16:43:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius could only chuckle, his own masculinity and controlling nature kicking in as he spoke. He was comfortable with the name Muse, but he suspected she might trust him more if there was an actual Introduction. "Would the Muse like to share her beautiful name. I'm sure it's as lovely as that wonderful body you have there." He chuckled, his mind seeking to be fair as he continued. "Marconius is mine. Marconius Illador." He awaited the knowledge of her name with a subtle curiosity, as he floated on the water. He would enjoy this beautiful view of her behind as long as he was able, and he would see it again, the Gods help him if he didn't.<br><br>He smirked to himself as she asked. "That's a good question. I don't think I would, on most occasions. But seeing as you've gone through <em>Quite</em> a bit in the last day or so, I'll give you a break. I'm sure I don't need to cause any undue stress.." He swiftly turned his back to her, knowing that he couldn't close his eyes with that sight in front of him. "On a similar note, Perhaps I should tell you this now. Don't make eye-contact with any of the men when we return... You may not be.. 'Pleased.' You see, when an Officer takes a woman, especially a 'slave' woman, down away from Camp, people assume that he's going there to... How do I put this. 'Take what's His.' So just a little warning, there may be some dirty looks.." He let out a slightly nervous chuckle, and a small sigh. Why was he acting like this? It was an interesting question, because for all his control, he could <em>Easily</em> be doing what the men all assumed. Yet he didn't... And what stopped him did not cease to perplex his tactical mind. These damned feelings would be the death of him, lest he learn to dominate them himself. And, almost on call, his erotic mind kicked into gear, as he wondered what it would be like to dominate <em>Her</em> instead. He shirked the feeling off as another possible fantasy. After all, they were in the river together, Nude. Things might just happen, or, it'll turn into a train-wreck. Either way, Fun is definitely on the menu.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 18:45:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm Cassandra," She replied, as he gave her name. Her back was straight, and she peeked over her shoulder to make sure he had turned away. Satisfied, she waded fast as she could to the bank, and clamoured up. She'd already selected the rock to drape her robe over. She was seconds on lying it flat, before sprinting back toward the river, trying to ignore how very naked she was and how very outside. She sighed, as she stetted back in the water, small wavelets lapping around her neck and shoulders. Again, she faced away from him. She lay her head back, and let her tresses float in the water. Her eyes closed against the sun, as she half-listened to him, nodding her understanding. She did her best to ignore the reasoning behind the prudent advice. Instead, she floated, careful to stay mostly under water, and let her hair soak, for a moment binging her hands up to scrub her hair and scalp free of the dust that had settled over the course of the day. She didn't initiate conversation - what was there to talk about?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 19:33:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius was content with his peaceful retreat, free of all the gruesome responsibilities that come with being a Soldier, if for only a few moments. He smiled to himself as he took the name to memory and submerged his head under the subtly moving water for a moment, soaking his hair in it. "Well then. Cassandra it is." He reluctantly took the silence as a good sign, but was not exactly comfortable. His entire life centered around action, and countering the action of others. Stillness and Peace were not a part of his life, and in fact were the antitheses' of it. That's why he decided to have a little fun for himself. Zeus be damned if he let a woman quiet his mind.<br><br>He dove to the bottom of the relatively shallow bank, and found himself a hearty collection of decent size pebbles, carrying them up in the crook of his arm as he swam towards a nice outcropping, a low boulder sitting on the edge of the river bank. He hopped atop of it, and sat on the edge, as he began to skip stones. It was something he had done to pass the time, ever since childhood, and he always enjoyed seeing how many skips he could get. He chuckled as one simply sank on contact with the rippling surface, and gazed down to the bathing woman. "You know how to skip Cassandra? It's fun if you can get the hang of it, but that may be just me..?" He smirked as he got a good hit, the rock skimming the surface again and again until it's speed fell, and with it, the stone itself. His mind had picked something up however, a noise in the distance. He wasn't quite sure what, or who, made the subtle cracking of twigs, but his awareness was suddenly multiplied, his expression remaining unchanged as he played excruciating attention to the wilderness for a moment, before letting it die. It must've been a fawn, lost in the forest. That must've been it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 21:01:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra mainly ignored the steady 'plunk' from the water, as she floated, thinking. Trying to analyse and come to terms with yesterday. She bit her bottom lip as mourning finally settled in. Father, Magda, all of the boys. A few of them had been preparing to ask her father for marriage.&nbsp; They were good men, and she would have been content. She would have chosen Gethsemane. He was the comeliest of the lot, though a bit stupid. He would have been a kind husband, and a hard worker. She would never have gone hungry. And now he was dead. They all were. The backs of her eyes began to prick with tears, just as he called her name. Her eyes opened against the glare of the sun, to see him perched atop a boulder far too close. He could see everything should he care to look. She screamed, and submerged herself, kicking through the water, away from him, anger at him replacing the sorrow. She surfaced further away, glaring at Marconius, as she tread water. Her dress would not be dry, yet. She was trapped in the water with him and his rakish grin on the boulder, naked. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 21:18:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius glanced over at her as she frantically splashed in the water, her yell piercing the peaceful air. "Are you... Okay? Did you see somethin-" His eyebrow was raised for a moment before he swiftly turned his head behind him, Scanning the forest for any intruders on their solitude. Perhaps what he had heard before was not as docile as he had hoped... Somehow, he could've guessed as much.<br><br>With a swift jump, he cautiously stepped towards his things, taking the sheathed sword with him as he back-stepped towards the river, his eyes alert and vigilant. A plethora of thoughts occupied the same space as he examined his environment, took into account his lighter weight, and considered how he would protect Cassandra from an ambush as well. It was not the most ideal situation, but Peace never suited him anyways. A slight rustling in the brush, followed by the alarmed chirping of swallows, signaled the intruder's presence. He kept his sword tightly in place, lest the reflection give up their own position, but knew he was at a disadvantage, in information and in combat. He tied the sheath's harness around waist and with long strides, (To avoid too much splashing), ran over to his Muse. Nudity was not an issue when lives were on the line, and he hoped that perhaps she would understand that. He gently felt for her hand and gripped it tightly as he pulled her over to the river-facing side of the boulder, intending to hide themselves from whoever was lurking in the forest. He pulled her close to him and put his finger to his lips as he gazed into her eyes, his own conveying a mixture of professionalism and caring, although for what reason, He hadn't the slightest idea. Silence was paramount for the moment, and she could yell and curse at him all she wanted to later.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>19-08-2010, 22:39:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra frowned in confusion as he stood, looking about. "What is he..." She muttered to herself, as he jumped from the boulder. She watched as he retrieved his sword, and backed toward the river, as if under attack. Her eyes searched the bushes, but she heard nothing. and then he was dragging her behind him to the rock. "What in the world are you doing?" She hissed. Her free arm hugged her breasts, trying to protect any modesty he had left her. She frowned up at him in confusion, before a twig snapped across the clearing. Her eyes widened, and she leaned back, trying to peek around the boulder to see what it was. Or maybe if it was someone who had escaped from the village. She managed to peek around far enough to catch a glimpse of something brown. The soft breeze ruffled her hair back, as she pulled against him, trying to see better.<br><br>It was a fawn. The clumsy newborn was with its mother, who was currently snuffling her robes. Cassandra relaxed, before smacking his shoulder. "It's a deer, you dolt. I was screaming because you sneaked up on the damn rock." She hissed to him, still whispering as she glared up into his eyes. "Let me go and turn around." She added, not even realizing the irony of the situation. She was, technically, his property, and she was ordering him to let her go so she could get away.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>20-08-2010, 04:19:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Well... To put it bluntly, Marconius was not quite expecting that. <br><br>He looked to her with a slight chuckle, as he rubbed the back of his head. "Oh. <em>That</em>. More importantly, Why would you scream just because I climbed a rock? For future reference, Don't do that unless you saw something that could, I don't know, Kill Us." It was then that he realized the incredulity of the scene. He rubbed his temple as he unbuckled the leather harness and tossed it towards the shore. <em>Unbelievable.</em> He was a military man, borne in the bloody battlefields of War. He had seen countless men die in front of him, and dozens more of his own doing. Yet this woman had gotten him all riled up. Why? Because a man climbed a rock. He said it a couple times in his head, hoping to somehow comprehend the profound danger it must imply... Before speaking again as his intelligence failed him. "Yeah, I'm not seeing the Danger in it." He still held her firmly, refusing to let her just leave after such a scene, but still keeping his eyes on her face, in an act of (Dwindling) good faith.<br><br>He couldn't help but laugh as she tried to order him around however. This was even more profound than her shrieking over a man on a boulder. This woman, saved by his hand, and sheltered by his power, who technically is his Slave, decides to try her hand at being the boss. That's some great Comedy right there. The fella's in Athens should get a piece of this Humor. He simply smirked at her as he pulled her body tight against his, the motion smooth and forceful, yet gentle underwater. "Listen, Cassandra. I'm not quite sure you understand things around here. I may be Nice and Sincere towards you, but that does not change the fact that your Life is in my hands. At a drop of a coin, I could have you deserted in the wilderness, or given to the men. Now, my feelings, Those emotions be Damned, wouldn't allow that, but that does not change the balance of power here. And for Zeus' sake, at least say Please." He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, before pushing her away, his tenderness on the subject annoying him more than the false-alarm. He would find a way to quell these monstrous beasts that they called "Feelings," One way, or Another...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>20-08-2010, 16:24:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm naked," She replied plainly, her scowl returning. "I'd like to preserve my modesty," She added, in case he didn't understand. She pulled back against his arms, wanting to be released. Her face burned with embarrassment and shame. Looking back, the situation would be funny, but at present it was terrible. Now that the panic had subsided, she realized how very naked they both were, and how very close. Unless she missed her guess, his... man-part was pressed right against her thigh. And then he laughed at her. She glared up into his damned smirk, her hands coming up to press against his chest, in an effort to pull out of his steel hold. <br><br>She relaxed, finally, as he pushed her away. Ducking under the water, she pulled herself away from him, muttering softly to herself once she surfaced. She hated the situation. She hated how she felt comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to get named and make demands. She sunk up to her chin, watching him carefully, wondering how much longer her robes would take to dry. She wanted out of the water, and clothed again. She wanted some defence against him. Why did he have to be kind and charming? Why couldn't he be easy to hate?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>20-08-2010, 17:29:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius could only chuckle, his voice playful and cheery. "Modesty? I'm afraid you're talking to the wrong fellow then. You see, living most of your life bundled together with a thousand other men tends to burn that off of you. But I apologize nonetheless." He chuckled, realizing how difficult it actually was to apologize. The word itself had taken some effort dislodge from his mouth. "You shouldn't be ashamed of your body, especially one as beautiful as yours." He gave her his playful smirk as she put her hands on his chest, misinterpreting the gesture. After a few moments, he gently shoved her off, his arms giving her the craved release and freedom, at least in a local sense. <br><br>Afterwards, he gave her any space she desired. He saw that she was thinking deep about<em> Something</em>, and although Marconius was not a thinker himself, he could respect the people who were, and give them the silence to do so. His annoyance to the false-alarm had all but vanished, leaving only a sense of heightened awareness, lest he be made correct in his assumption. He decided that now was as good of a time as any, and swam out the short distance to shore, before walking over to the scattered pieces of his clothing. It looked like they had been stripped off in a hurry, like a man going to- His thought ended there, as his mind denied him the fantasy at this moment. Such things could be dreamt, and they most likely would be. He picked up the scattered articles of clothing, checking each for dampness, and nonchalantly giving his okay. He went over to hers as well, and patted it down, a bit surprised at how well the sun had dried it. He slung his own clothes over his shoulder, as he thought of a kind plan. It was not his usual type of plan, so it wasn't a very complex one. He took her clothes, and placed it gently on the edge of the shore, on a flat side of the boulder. He then cupped his hands to project his voice, as he yelled to her. "Your Clothes are Ready! Feel Free to Change Here, And I'll be Around the Bend. Don't Scream Unless You See Something!" He added the last clause with a bit of a chuckle. He was serious about it, but that would've gone without saying with any of his men. He took himself around to the complete other side of the boulder, as he began the process of donning his leather under-armor, complete with countless amounts of unnecessary strings and ties.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>28-08-2010, 22:49:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra floated, treading the water, face still burning from his compliment. She tried not to think, eve as her mind finally had time to torture her. Shock, mourning, fright, they all began to sprout. Her world was gone, and now she was a prisoner to some enemy commander. She was so confused. He was kind to her, gave her at least a semblance of freedom. He was not a bad man. But how could she even think to like him? He was most of the reason she was n this predicament. But he was treating her as if she was human, not the enemy, like he deserved the respect he gave, even in her captivity. <br><br>As he called, she looked up. Her eyes flicked away from his nudity as he left the water. He may not have modesty, but it was not something she was keen on giving up. It was one of the few things she had remaining to her name. She waited, sneaking glances, until he rounded the boulder, before paddling slowly back to shore. Her body stretched, pulling herself across the surface with strong strokes. As her feet touched the sandy bottom, she stepped forward, gritting her teeth as the poor soles protested. Three steps and she was on the shore, reaching for her robes. She would them tightly wound herself, ignoring the wetness that still rode her skin. The robes clung to her, hugging her curves like a lover. <br><br>Her shoulders relaxed, as the fabric draped, hiding her body, and giving her some shielding from his eyes. Her hands began to bunch her hair, wringing water from the strands, the back of her already soaked through to transparency.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>29-08-2010, 04:53:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius ran his fingers through his hair a few times, sprinkling water about, before he walked back around, towards his belongings and companion. He smirked to her as he returned, his playful expression settled across his face, as usual. "Feeling better now? I myself find clothing a bit, constraining, but to each their own I suppose." He shrugged as he leaned over and retrieved his short sword, unsheathing it for a moment, the gleaming metal shining in the sun as he checked it's structure, before putting it into it's place, and buckling it around his waist. <br><br>Marconius had restrained his metallic armor to the pack of his horse, not willing to be bothered to don it, as he motioned for Cassandra to go with him. "Come, Cassandra. I take it you've had you're fill of the lake... And <em>this</em>." He chuckled as he playfully looked over his own body, the meaning obvious and bearing a semblance of truth. He resided near the horse, ready to boost his Muse up onto it, before returning to the camp. It would be an interesting welcome, and he was curious as to the specifics.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>29-08-2010, 05:28:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra walked silently to the horse, not interested in responding. She'd done her best to avoid looking at <em>this</em>. But then, he was correct. She had had enough of it. She shifted from foot to foot s she approached the horse's left side. "How do I..." She began to ask, eyes finally meeting his. She ignored the way her back was soaked, the way her robes clung to her, revealing more than they hid. She ignored the way his eyes roamed over her, his jests. She wished she could ignore it all. But she had to get on the great beast, somehow, and go back, and keep her eyes down. She had to try and avoid every soldier's jealous ire.<br><br>That would be simple.<br><br>Not to mention she had to keep her distance from the gorgeous, rakish commander who treated her kindly.<br><br>That would be even easier.<br><br>Absolutely.<br><br>She was doomed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>29-08-2010, 21:29:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius simply smirked as he took her by the waist, clumsily lifting her up to mount the steed, before he jumped on himself, his body sliding in behind hers, as he wrapped his arms around hers and took the reins, whipping the majestic beast into a steady trot. He glanced down, over her shoulder, and gave her a few words of advice. It was easy to guess what was crossing her mind as they embarked on the return trip. "Don't worry about the men. Most of them are no better than beasts anyways. Just pay them no mind, and the spectacle will lose interest." He gently increased their speed as he brushed past the forest clearing, and along the river's edge. "Although.. In that get-up, I'm not too sure that it'll die down easily." He chuckled to himself as he carefully swung the reins, the wind brushing through his still damp hair, and his self-satisfied grin stoically settled against the breeze.<br><br>When they had returned to camp, it was not to the disciplined ranks of men saluting an officer, but rather the disorganized mob, typical of Rome itself, all ogling the commander and his maiden. Marconius' horse strode between tents, amidst the yell and whistles of lascivious men, while he himself leaned over, as if he could somehow shield her from their words. His body stuck to the back of hers as his warmth met the damp cloth, his own heat radiating into her. He would not let them make a degradation of his treasured companion, and swiftly shot daggers from his eyes as he moved towards his camp, where at least his men were a <em>tad</em> more professional.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>29-08-2010, 22:04:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She could barely suppress the yelp, as he lifted her up, her own hands grabbing tightly to the Horse's mane, as she threw her leg over it haphazardly. She clung to it, her legs squeezing and her hands clutching in the wiry hair. Her back straightened, as he swung up behind her, his legs embracing her ass in a much too intimate manner for her comfort. As the horse began to move, it was impossible to keep her hips from rolling in tandem with his, her back not to move with his body's guidance. She bit down on her bottom lip as he spoke, but nodded. Keep your eyes down, and ignore them. A frown took her face, as he added the last bit, but she took his advice - she ignored him.<br><br>Her thighs ached by the time they returned. It was difficult to roll her hips like that while clinging on for dear life. She stared at her hands wrapped in the horse's mane, trying not to react to the hooting and hollering mob. Her face flamed, and she straightened her back, trying to put some distance between her back and his front. All that managed to do was hurt her thighs more and her ass slap mercilessly against the horse with every step. She could feel him, his warm body crushed into hers, hunching her over even as she tried to sit straight. Her face burned with unwarranted shame, as they arrived at the company's camp, and she sat stiff, waiting to disembark, go into his tent, and... and what? She had nothing to do. She couldn't hide herself, he would not permit that. It was as likely as not that he had orchestrated the little outing to humiliate her, and stake his claim.<br><br>She hated the army. She hated this all. She even hated the damn horse. But she was fairly certain, that at that moment, she hated the man at her back the worst of all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>29-08-2010, 23:15:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Marconius entered his own camp, the twenty-odd soldiers all stood at attention, albeit each with their own devious grins. Not even his own brand of discipline could completely erase their tendencies. A couple men came up to help him and his companion dismount, and afterwards walked off with the strapped pieces of metallic plating that comprised the commander's armor. He walked with Cassandra off towards his own tent, his mind slightly puzzled by her despising expression, and how it seemed to radiate straight towards him. He never really got the gist of this whole kindness thing, but so far it wasn't very convincing to him.<br><br>As he lifted up the flap, letting his companion/slave walk through before him, he gave one quick glance around the camp, a signal to the rest of his troop to get busy or get Dead. He knew deep down however, that his orders would fall upon deaf ears. It was always difficult to stay motivated during delays, let alone busy. As he let the flap fall behind him, he looked down at his left, and nudged the pair of sandles over to her chair with his foot, grateful that the men in the Caravan were so expedient. <em>At least</em> Someone <em>is doing their job...</em> <br><br>After he nonchalantly removed the leather jerkin and greaves, Marconius tossed them back into his 'quarters,' being the back-section where his bed lay, and took a heavy seat in the chair behind his desk. He reached into the basket underneath of it, and retrieved a small towel, before lightly throwing it towards Cassandra, thinking she may have a need for it, at the least to throw it back at him. Her sudden hostility was a bit confusing to him, as he felt that, although she was <em>still</em> somewhat hostile from the lake, it was a more subtle affair, and perhaps it was just his optimism, but it seemed like she may have been actually appreciating him a bit. He chuckled in his mind as the thought ran it's way across. Appreciation was a rare thing in his world, and it seemed to have become the kind of fantasy that men only aspire to, and forget about trying to achieve it. But, as much of a soldier he was, he had still retained some of his humanity, even if it had become custom to toss it away at the first sign of leadership. <br><br>That was most likely why, with a tone unbecomingly somber to his character, Marconius spoke with a soft voice, a slight piece of apology hidden amongst his words. "Tomorrow we hold the Rites for the recently Dead. It's a customary thing to do at the first crossing. If you'd like, I'll take you separately and let you say your peace." It was a kind gesture, but the offer itself had come out awkwardly, as if the voice strained to spew such pleasantries. The same voice that had ordered men to kill, to die, and to discard their petty emotions for the stoic sense of a true warrior. <em>What the hell is this Woman doing to me.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 00:12:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra sat in the tent, holding the shoes, as he told her she could pay respect for her dead. Her fingers clenched about the leather sandals, as she bit down on her bottom lip, pain transforming her features. She stared at them, another small courtesy to make her situation liveable, as she contemplated him. "Thank you..." She finally whispered softly, sniffing back tears. Every time she worked her anger up, he was there, making amends and being kind. She didn't understand why he didn't just take what he wanted from her - it was obvious he wanted it. He wouldn't have taken a man or a boy. <br><br>She didn't have coins to lay on her father's eyes... She didn't even have her father to pay respects to, but she could do her best. The ferryman would not take them without payment, but she would pay, as soon as she had coins. She would pay and hope he would take their souls to the underworld. She sighed, before glancing up at him. He perplexed her. She didn't want to look it in the mouth, but she couldn't help the suspicion. "Why are you being kind to me?" She asked plainly, her feet tucking under the chair. "What's in it for you?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 00:47:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius had to fight to keep his laugh at a chuckle, as he leaned back in his seat. It was a valid question, but not one he could truly answer this time around. He had done this before, but back then, he didn't have the power nor capacity to help the lad, who was eventually recruited as an auxiliary, and slain the next day in a near-suicidal charge. He found it Ironic that she of all people would question it, after all this time.<br><br>"You'd rather me be Cruel, right? The typical conquerer, taking a maiden as his prize and tossing her aside when he's finished. What a Life that must be. Unfortunately, that's not <em>My</em> life. I fight for my country's pride and honor, not so I can ransack towns and rape women. Don't get me wrong, there's quite a lot of men with that mind-set, but you don't get a commission unless you're in one extreme or the other. Take a guess which one I am."<br><br>He leaned over, his chair lifting off the ground ever so slightly, as he pulled a small leather pouch out of a small cubby in his desk. He loosened the string binding it, and let it's contents fall onto the wooden surface. He gave a faint smirk as he glanced down at the small, roughly-carven figurine, of something that only vaguely resembled a person. "A while ago, while I was still just a petty legionary, we won a glorious battle of the Semacians, a small country not even worth the grain to get there. To make up for the lack of bounty or prize, the leaders of the campaign decided to give one captured family to every officer who survived. These were not noble men, but War rarely breeds such virtues. As my commander raped his new woman, for all to see, I sat there and wondered if I would be twisted into such a monster." He took a sip of wine from his gourd, clearing and soothing his voice as it went down, before continuing. "So far, I've done somewhat well in that regard, or at least, I Hope so. War is rough, even more so when you're on the soldiering side. Anyways, afterwards, in the night, I went to check up on this maiden, who instantly regarded me with fury and despicion. I gained no ground with her, and by the chance of the Gods, I met her young brother, not two years younger than I was. It was obvious that he would be pulled into the army as we fought our way through to the Capitol, but still, in a naive motion of resentment towards my superior, I offered him escape. He hadn't a chance, and was lashed the next morning, right before he was sent to battle, from which he didn't return. This is what he gave me on that morning, telling me that as long as a human being carried it, he could pass on happily. That's about it, though."<br><br>Marconius shrugged as he wrapped up his story. He wasn't very fond of retelling his life, or any stories for that matter, but in this case, he wanted to make sure she knew the entire truth. For some reason, he found himself attracted to this woman in more than just the physical sense. The real confusion laid in whether he liked her because of his own emotions, or simply because she was another prisoner of war. He gave her his usual smirk as his playful expression returned, the tone re-emerging in his voice, and picked up a small pouch sitting atop his desk. "I'm sorry I'm not easy to hate. I'm afraid you'll have to deal with it." He tossed the pouch over to her, the silver coins bearing the imperial seal jingling as they landed in her lap.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 01:05:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra stared at the pouch that fell in her lap, and back up to him. She sighed, shaking her head, and looking away. She couldn't make any sense of him. "Why are you a soldier, then?" She asked, frowning up to him. I was only afternoon. Still ages before bed, and all she wanted was away from him. Maybe with distance she could remember who he was, that she was supposed to hate him. But he was right. He was very hard to hate. "And what do you want from me?" She added, looking back up to him. "You can't expect me not to run eventually, you can't expect me to stay voluntarily. Will you give me the chance like you did the boy?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 01:38:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was with a smile that Marconius answered her first question. It was one that he enjoyed explaining, as it required no complex meanings or facades. It was simply black and white, and his voice carried his usual battle-tone with it, a masterful mix of intimidation and respect. "Well.. Why do artists paint? Or minstrels sing? I'm good at what I do, and as much as I may try and deny and repress it, I get a twisted joy from controlling the lives of people in my hands. I can look over a field of clashing meat and metal, and see weaknesses ready to be exposed, and flanks ready to be surrounded. Simply put, what I'm good at doing is, Dominating."<br><br>Marconius smirked as he finished, but truly didn't have an answer for her second question, and had to put a few pieces together to come up with an answer. He spoke slowly at times, as he threw together his words into facts, as well as a bit of emotional bias. As much of a Hero as he liked to seem, there was something about this woman that made him ache when he thought of her escaping. Granted, that was not very likely, but he'd make this clear to her, one way or another.<br><br>"It's hard to say Cassandra... Things are different than back then. I'm no longer a small soldier that no one pays attention to, and this is no small campaign for conquering a neighbor. This is a War, and this is an Army. Neither are you a small boy, who's only use could be a pin cushion for an enemy spear. The men, as you're more than well-aware, have more savage plans for you if they would find you alone. Even I have had to fight those thoughts. Scouts prowl the forests, and men guard the camps. I can't expect you not to <em>try</em> to run, but I can hope you have better sense than that. After all, where would you go? How could you survive in the trails of a nation's army, which leaves empty fields and plucked forests in it's wake. As much as I may try and be sensitive, I have one piece of harsh advice for you. Escape is only going to make things worse..." He sighed, physically, while mentally, he found himself smirking. Here he was again, playing the role of dominator, even if his chivalrous and heroic imagination said otherwise. He was a man after all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 02:04:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra fell silent, after his speech. She knew what he said was true, same as he knew that she couldn't stay if given the opportunity for escape. She did have doubts, however, at his skill at dominating. It hardly seemed true, but then, he had been acting differently to her than to his men. She heaved a sigh, and bent to finally put the sandals on. She looked up to him, and then away. "Um... Where... I need to go to the privy." She stammered, only now realizing that nature had run it's course from the wine she had drank earlier. And that posed a problem. Where, in a camp full of men and soldiers, was she supposed to relieve herself? Would that she had done it earlier at the river.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 02:17:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The situation was something that Marconius was not entirely prepared for. He hadn't thought of it, mostly because he was used to companies of <em>Men</em>, who, being hardened soldiers, usually would just go off into the nearest forest or borough, and do their business without a word. "Uh... I suppose you can do what the rest of us do, and simply go off to the brush. Come then." He picked up a piece of parchment that had been dropped in his absence as he stood, walking over to the entrance. Regardless of the situation, she needed an escort, and he planned to somewhat assert his role as protector and guardian, and resisted the urge to delegate the task to a lower-man. There was also the entire molesting issue, and it only added to his certainty, as he led her out the 'door,' his hand subconsciously gripping hers as he walked out.<br><br>The sun had painted the sky orange by this point, as they walked off towards a field, the camp still in sight. Marconius pointed over to a patch of foliage and brush, motioning her over with a few tips whispered lusciously into her ear. "Don't be alarmed if you hear movement, or more likely, simply see it. Our scouts are not the loudest bunch out there. That means no more screaming like last time missy." He smirked to her as he patted her lower back, managing to push her forward while retaining his playful mood. He wondered if he doubted his skill at manipulation, but the curiosity quickly dimmed. Whatever the case was, she was his treasure, and he hoped that his kindness and company was worth at least a semblance of an award. That'd be found out later, one way or another, and he refocused on the parchment in his hand, skimming over it's contents and news.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 02:31:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra stepped with him, keeping up, her feet thanking him silently for the sandals, already. She didn't try to pull her hand from his grip. Like it or not, he was protection. She scowled as he whispered into her ear, and trotted into the bush with his 'assistance'. Grumbling softly to herself, she did her business. Her eyes watched the foliage around her, wary of movement or sound. She did not need someone watching that. She thrashed from the bush, moments later, her posture straight, and proud. She had done her business and she would be damned if she felt ashamed of it. She walked quietly to him, wondering what was so important on the parchment. Her head whipped around, as a whistle from somewhere, and she crossed her arms over her chest. She did not want to be in the open any more than she had to.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 02:54:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				After she had finished, he took her hand once more, and, without a word, lead her back to his tent, the piece of worn paper tucked under his arm. Marconius wasn't very excited at having Cassandra parading around in her slim attire, nor with the eyes that perversely scanned her body. That was for him to do, and him alone. Deep down, his masculine instincts tended to overlap with his sincerity, meshing into an obscure form that was uniquely dominating and careful. As he approached his tent, he nudged his Muse inside, and sternly told her to await him inside, while he fetched some supper. He thought that <em>that</em> would keep her there, and didn't feel too worried as he walked off to a gathering in the center of the army's camp, where a wagon dished out bread and soup. <br><br>He got a couple loaves and bowls, conscripting a footman to carry his second meal, as he walked back to his tent. Marconius told him to set it on his desk as he handed the one's in his hand to his companion. He saluted the man, and off he went, to resolve whatever business he was interrupted in by a superior officer. That was the sense of discipline that Marconius liked to see. He made a note to find that man later and see about his transfer. <br><br>He sat at his desk as he casually ate his evening meal, his body eager for rest, despite spending most of the day playing in a river. Perhaps it wasn't rest it was yearning for however, and only the night. It was something that had been mounting during the day, and he had grown uncertain about his ability to control it. Nevertheless, he would not ruin this because he had degenerated to savages like the rest of his army. Civilization was key, and being sincere and Human was a true test of a man's worth. Or so he told himself.<br><br>He gave a nod to Cassandra, and a kind smile as he took her bowl and put it outside along with his. He then tucked the flap in and tied the string 'lock.' The set sun marked the end of his mandatory duty, and with it, the end of his duty period. As much as he enjoyed being in the military, and the thrill of battle, he grew dull with the endless delay and politics. He was a warrior, not a scholar. Shaking the feeling off, he walked back towards his desk, removing his undershirt as he walked, and tossing it on the chest in his back-section. He grabbed the gourd of wine with a wooden cup, and poured himself a heavy drink, afterwards offering one to his companion, his shirtless bravado only enhancing his playful smirk.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 03:21:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				After he left, Cassandra took the time to explore. There really wasn't much to find, though she made a cursory glance over the papers. None seemed important. All were short-term orders or non important missives. She sighed, peeking out of the tent, as she had the night before, before returning to her seat. He wasn't long in returning, and she took her portion with a nod of thanks. She ate quietly, and neatly, eating every last morsel. She didn't know exactly when her next meal would be. If a good enough opportunity presented itself, she would run. She remained silent, watching him dispose of their dishes, close the tent, and reach for the gourd. With a nod of thanks, she took it, and drank deeply. Maybe wine would answer her questions. Maybe not. It tasted good either way.<br><br>Passing it back, she sighed, leaning back in the chair, her fingers tangling in her light robes. The material was thin. She hadn't expected to be carted off with an army when she dressed yestermorn. She did her best not to stare, not to let her eyes rake and caress his naked chest. It was a losing battle. With a grunt, she turned away, hugging herself. "So... what?" She asked. What was she supposed to do? When was he going to pass down that cape, and let her sleep?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 03:36:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius grinned to himself as he shuffled the stack of notes and papers, before pushing them off the side of his desk, into a burlap sack. The desk would be taken apart in the morn, but it was all just to give something to pass the time with. His smirk came as he noticed her glances as he strode around, arranging and tossing random parchments and expired orders. He chuckled when he finished, taking the chair behind his desk and pulling it up to face hers. He would have some fun tonight, one way or another.<br><br>He sat down, facing her, with his toned arms crossed around his pecs. His usual smirk was there, as his legs extended out under her chair, and between hers. "Now..? I thought we'd just chat, seeing you weren't too up to it yesterday. Although, I don't blame you for that. I hoped we could 'turn a new leaf,' as they say." He smirked as he kept her gaze smooth, her eyes ever so slightly deviating to his chest, as she had done before. He couldn't tell whether it was the wine or his rugged looks that was attracting her, but he truly didn't care.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 03:52:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"What do you want to talk about?" She asked, not turning back to him. She could appreciate a man, but she did not want to appreciate this one in particular. "What is there to talk about? How you like 'dominating'? How I hope to escape and get as far away from this thrice damned army as possible? How when you retire you hope to have a farm with too many goats to count?" The last was a guess. Cassandra sighed, and shook her head. Whatever it boiled down to, she would always be his prisoner. Like it or not, that would always be an intrusion between them. He was gorgeous, he was kind, and he was mischievous, and he was charming. He was still her captor, whether she liked him or not. All she had to do when she forgot was to try and walk away. That would remind her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>30-08-2010, 04:12:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, his face feigning offense. "No need to be so hostile... I truly don't an issue." His smirk spoke the truth, as from his perspective she really wasn't a slave. More like a valued princess almost. Besides her clothing, she had been treated better than any of the men in this army, and better than some officers even. She may have been trapped there, but her resistance of the fact would only prove to be futile and miserable. "A little tip, from someone who's marched on an empty stomach for three days, and slept on a bed of rocks. The longer you continue to think that you're just a regular prisoner, ready to escape at the first opportunity, in some foreign army, the more effort wasted. Real prisoners don't eat as well as you, sleep as well as you, or are even protected as well as you. This army is treated like it's own prisoner, so I suggest to be a bit more appreciative of the situation..."<br><br>His subtle outburst was ended with a sigh, as he withdrew the note from earlier, tucked away into the folds of his pants. He tossed it over to her, and let her open it, as she read over a list of casualties, and a note thanking his precautions. He glanced out towards the entrance of the tent, his eyes gazing beyond it, as he spoke in a softer voice. "That trip to the river was not just spontaneous... The last thing I need is for you to see more war..." It dwindled down as he spoke, and he sighed again, his mind unable to repress the confusion any longer. His emotions had been playing with his head, and both of them knew what the other was truly after. Yet what stopped him from claiming his spoils was the root of the issue, and he still struggled to understand it.<br><br>He got up from his chair without a further word, before moving to his back room, his playful smirk returning and his mind clearing by the time he reached it. "Enough of this seriousness though, I get enough of it during the day. Now that you know the entire situation however, this makes things a bit easier." He motioned for her to come to the rear end of the tent, as he stood awaiting her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 00:28:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassadra frowned, perplexed as he handed her the paper, a petulant cast crossing her eyebrows. But she didn't reply. She didn't want to get into it with him. Even so, it wasn't as if she'd asked to be brought along, she hadn't asked to be treated, well or otherwise. He likely saw himself as a rescuer... Maybe he was... No. Absolutely not. He was her captor and she was his prisoner. She shook her head to clear the ridiculous notion, as he stood, beckoning her close. "Why?" She asked. "What do you want?" She added. The back of his tent was his sleeping area. And in the sleeping area was his bed. And if she followed him to where his bed was, he would likely try to get her into his bed, and Cassandra did not want that. She crossed her arms petulantly over her chest, the dangling parchment forgotten for now. His earlier outburst of frustration didn't bother her, but the quiet tone, as if he cared, did. He didn't. He couldn't. If he did, then maybe it would make him a rescuer. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 03:04:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius could only chuckle, his stride gracefully carrying him over to her, where he took her hand into his. His strength was solid, and although firm, it was not rough. He pulled her back around the canvas corner, a small bed laying near a miniature altar, as was usual in higher-ended troop quarters. He smirked to her, his mind finally understanding the situation, and his grin reflected the victory, with a sincere smile egging it on. It was the kind of thing that Marconius would indeed miss, until the most obvious moment. "What do I want? Well, if I had to choose, I'd want to see you smile." He chuckled to her as he half-laid, half fell down onto the ground, the bedding somewhat cushioning his fall. He pulled her down with her, his other hand gripping hers, and gently held her as she fell onto his chest. He prepared for a wave of protest, his mind expecting it, but he was content with the feeling. Being in a career where one spends their life seeing the entrails of men, of their own doing, can lead to a loss of one's humanity and emotions. That's why he was still so enthralled with this woman, as it was his last chance to preserve the small piece of his heart that remained untainted. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 03:18:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra dug her heels in, resisting as he pulled her up, and to his bed area. "You're unlikely to see that... ever!" She replied, her last word a yelp as he dropped, pulling her along down. She struggled, as he expected, against his iron grip, completely in vain. She kicked out with her newly shod feet, connecting once or twice nicely with his shins. "Let me go!" She half-screamed, pushing back against him. Some rescuer.&nbsp; She didn't struggle long. It was a mouse against a wall. Finally, she slowed, and stilled. If she couldn't fight it, then she could maybe get out using her brain. She panted, laying limply on top of him, her face turned away from his. "Not ever."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 03:31:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius wrapped his arms around her back in a caring embrace, a subtle smirk across his face as she writhed atop of him. He wondered who she was really fighting, and couldn't help but let a smile run across his face. "Relax... I'm not going to force you to do anything. I just don't want you to sleep out there tonight, for a variety of reasons." He chuckled as she turned away from him, which he had also expected, and just enjoyed having her close to him.<br><br>"Not Ever? Well, I see you're still enthralled with the idea that you're just a slave, taken prisoner by a cruel master that only wants you for your body. If it'd make it easier for you, I can always play the part, although I do enjoy my current role a bit more." He smirked down, as he brought a hand down to her chin and lifted it up to him, his eyes looking over her expression. She was a curious woman, and he was eager to see how far her self-deception would take her. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 03:52:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra glared it him, her chin jutting out petulantly from its resting place above his palm. She would prefer to sleep on the ground, rather than with him, even if the oversized pillow was heaven compared to just his cape. She didn't bother to question his reasons. Like it or not, they were likely more sound than her blind stubbornness. She hated how she felt stupid, how he managed to make her anger and discomfort at the entire situation seem ridiculous. The only thing he left for her was her mourning. After a moment of glaring, she jerked her head back, and turned her face away again, her stubbornness prevailing. She let her head drop, resting in the hollow of his shoulder. She didn't like it, but it was better than staring in his face. She hated the intimacy of the position, she hated how it gave him a place of power, of protection. It embodied everything he was to her. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 04:00:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius only gave her a faint smirk as she glared at him, before swiftly turning away, accepting the situation as it was. He was slightly glad that there weren't anymore protests, at least not vocal ones. He hoped that perhaps this would provide a nice way of her clearing her mind, but the stubborn attitude remained. He chuckled to himself as he laid back, his head staring up at the tent ceiling. That was one of the reasons he felt so attracted to her though, and he enjoyed it to no end. He had gotten too used to complete obedience from his men, and missed having someone who actually resisted him, who actually differed with him. It was, comforting. He ran a hand through her hair as he closed his eyes, his mouth muttering a word, barely above a whisper...<br><br>"Thanks..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 04:20:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra ground her teeth as his hand skimmed down her wealth of dark hair, her fists clenching at her side. She was stiff atop him, just waiting for his grip to loosen, for him to nod off. She wouldn't go far, but the floor beside his bed looked lovely. She refused to respond to his thanking her. She lay atop him, fighting the comfort, his warmth, the way her head rested almost perfectly in the hollow of his shoulder. She would not sleep. She waited, until she was certain he was alseep, before moving, pushing herself up, off of him, to flop over the side of the mattress. It was the easiest way off, and she could potentially argue that she fell off if he got irate.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 04:47:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius' mind dozed off slowly, the warmth of Cassandra's body radiating into him, aiding him in his rest. It was a soothing feeling, that he had long missed. He wondered how she would act the next morning, after mourning her deceased, but shirked off the thought. It would only remind her of her seated hatred towards him, which he seemed unable to understand nor dampen. It was a curious issue, but he found that his job was not one people tended to 'like.' Nevertheless, the sensation was too relaxing, and he fell asleep stroking his hand through her hair, and slept well for the first night in years.<br><br>Marconius awoke at first dawn, the light shining through the film of canvas that made up his tent. His mind hazily began to take in his environment as he sat up, the faint sound of a busy army in the background. He looked to his side, smiling down as he tossed his cape, from atop the nearby chest, onto his dozing companion. He got up and briskly walked out, checking the outside of his tent for the parchment that would comprise of the routine for mobilization. He took it back inside, reading it over as he sat back in his chair, his mind skimming over the page for the key orders. It was a routine thing for him, and it seemed that there had been no monsters in the night. He sighed as he pushed it away, his body curiously walking back to his bed, to sit on the edge of it, looking down at Cassandra as he prodded her gently with a finger. There was a certain tranquility in her form as she slept, the subtle movement of her breasts rising and falling with her small breath. It was almost a crime for him to disturb it.<br><br>"Time to wake up, my Muse."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>31-08-2010, 04:59:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra groaned, swatting sleepily at the thing that disturbed her. "Go 'way..." She muttered, one hand clutching her blanket, as she rolled over, cushioning her head on her bent arm. She was having the oddest dream. there was an army, and an insufferable man who called her... Her eyes snapped open, as he addressed her, and she stared, perhaps for half a minute, before she let the most foul of all the curses slip from her pink, bowed lips. It hadn't been a dream. Scrubbing a hand over her eyes, she pushed herself up, dragging his cape with her, allowing her lower lip to pout out in an early morning show of displeasure. Her maneuver last night had been a success, and other than a jarred shoulder and a few bruises, it was even counted as a win, by her. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>01-09-2010, 03:05:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled as she swore, knowing how much of a 'nightmare' she had awoke to. He stood with her, his hand patting her on the shoulder as he motioned out towards the entrance of the tent. Once he had nudged her out of the back area, he went out and quickly threw on his heavy metallic armor and belt, reserving the straps along it's sides for later. <br><br>Marconius spoke with a smooth and calm voice, one that seemed off with this man. "I suppose you're not too eager about this, but I suggest we resolve your deceased quickly, with the rest of the men, before the work around here begins. Otherwise, we may not have the time." He walked over, untying the slit of canvas and lifting it over his head. He glanced back to her as he walked under it, waiting for her, his smirk faintly recognizable. "Oh, and Good Morning my little princess. I hope you had a <em>lovely</em> night's sleep" He chuckled to himself with his words, as he continued, the playful attitude continuing. This could be his only chance to be himself for a good few hours, and he intended to throw some things out there before he made the post-battle rounds. <br><br>"Whenever you're ready to stop despising me, just let me know."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>03-09-2010, 20:27:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra ducked away as his hand found her shoulder, and stood, frowning at him petulantly. She followed him out into the common area of the tent, tugging her robes in order behind the cape, before she thrust it out toward him, glaring as he addressed her playfully. She snatched up the small purse of coins he had presented er with last night, and sighed, her fingers tightening in the fabric of the purse, as her shoulders dropped. Paying her respects. Finishing her business with the dead. There were six coins. Three people she could pay fare for. There were so many more. She bit into her lower lip, and looked up to him with a sigh, and nodded. She was ready to go and get it over with. And when she finished despising him? He would be the first to know.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>04-09-2010, 18:05:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius took her hand gently, and led her out into the camp. He motioned towards his men in silence, as he mounted his steed, and they rushed to aid him and his companion in any way they could. No one dared make a mistake when such a somber atmosphere was about, lest they catch a glimpse of misdirected wrath and sorrow.<br><br>Marcus took off on a slow gallop, trying to make the ride as comfortable as can be, and soon they approached a small hill. Perhaps small isn't the right descriptor, as it took a good five minutes to ride up the shallow incline, atop the massive area that was designated for mourning. He glanced around, his eyes darting between the men scattered around, spilling cups of wine and coins onto bagged corpses, some just throwing them onto the ground itself. War was gruesome, and more often than not, bodies were either unrecoverable or indistinguishable. It was a sad affair, and he knew he too would be going through the ritual in a moment. He swiftly dismounted his horse, and reached up to help Cassandra down as well. He gave her a slight and somber nod, as he took her hand and walked over to a patch of solitary meadow.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>11-09-2010, 17:20:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra's legs and spine ached, by the time they arrived at the rest of the hill, and she could not help the groan that bubbled in her throat as he lifted her down. She clung to his horse's side for a moment, as her legs adjusted to taking her weight once again. Her eyes were on the ground, as she straightened. She didn't look at the others. The sorrow they had was theirs, and it was none of her business. She didn't want it to be her business. That would make them human.<br><br>Cassandra trailed behind Marconius, to the patch of grass. Once they arrived, she tugged her hand from his, and offered him a nod, her eyes never leaving the ground, before she stepped away. Three steps, and he sunk to the ground, her fingers tugging up grass, and digging through the dirt. It caked under her nails immediately, uncomfortably pulling at the tender skin. Still she dug. Three small holes, the size of her fist, uniform, in a row. Shaking fingers opened the pouch of coins, and she pulled out two. Her eyes closed, and her lips pressed to the ferryman's due, dirty fingers, and then she placed them, carefully, in the hole. She repeated the process twice more, before the dirt was replaced, and the grass above it.<br><br>She knealt on the grass, eyes closed, silent for a moment, begging silently for the soul of her father, the non-believer, and his two servants, before she finally stood, and turned back to Marconius, ready to wait for him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>16-12-2010, 04:58:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius watched her mourn with a somber expression. He was never one to dwell on the past, and mourning the men who had given their lives to war was useless to him. They had chosen this life. But it was different with this woman's family. They never chose the soldier's life. They were simply victims of circumstance. He had made a couple rounds around the despairing men, giving reassuring pats on the shoulder and sternly comforting words where available. Most of it was silence however. Silence for the dead, who were finally in a world of peace.<br><br>Once she was ready to go, Marconius took her hand once more and led her to his steed without a word. He helped her up himself, before leaping onto the back of the horse. As he started trotting towards the camp, it took all of his effort to take the emotion out of his voice when he spoke. "Tomorrow we head out once more. It will be another half day's march until we reach the next town." He took a few moments to take in the silence before finishing his statement. "There, I'll see what I can do about letting you off on your own." His lips shut before his mind could protest. He would allow her this moment; making his mind up could wait until the mood was less... pitiful. The pair continued on, the rustling behind them a symptom of the setting sun, and a bustling camp.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>17-12-2010, 17:05:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For once, Cassandra bore his touch, and his aid without complaint. She settled stiffly on the back of the horse, even as he hauled himself up, and set them off back down the hill. She'd noted that he hadn't payed the fare for anyone. She wondered why, but did not question it. The dead was a subject she would prefer to avoid. As they rode, she studied her filthy hands, and nails. She'd never had them this filthy before. Never had every nail been ringed with black dirt. But it was necessity. It would be like this for the rest of her life. She'd lost everything. <br><br>She nodded silently, as he told her the plans. Her hands settled in her lap, tangled with the horse's mane unnecessarily. He wouldn't let her fall, and she knew it. She stiffened, however, as he suggested he would free her. She turned, nearly upsetting her seat, to stare at him incredulously. Was he serious? Her mouth gaped, as she tried to digest the information. Was he lying? Th next town? Wouldn't they just ravage it, the same as hey did hers? Her nostrils flared, and she turned back around, without saying anything. Why would he give her hope? Was it not cruel enough that he had taken her as a trophy of war? It didn't change anything. She would sill escape, and the army would move on.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>19-12-2010, 18:33:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius gave an unconscious and faint smile as she turned around to glare at him, at first with shock, and then with anger. By this point, he had come to terms with her perception of him. After all, he was a monster, and this path was his choice. He only whispered, <em>"I'll do my best,"</em> as he gazed back down the road, looking not only at the scenery ahead of him, but the future that lay set out before him. <br><br>The rest of the trek back was silent, besides the stirrings of nature, and Marconius refused to allow his mind to wander on anything but his military preoccupations. After dropping his companion back at his tent (Under tentative guard, naturally), he went about his evening rounds, ensuring that his section of the camp was quickly and efficiently being uprooted and packaged into the troupe of wagons that shadowed the army. Once that was finished, he saluted his tent guards, and entered through the canvas flap with a bit of a sigh. He shed his burdening armor onto a rack, and fell onto a chair, his body tired of the day's travels, and his mind tired of the day's events. He gave a glance over to his 'muse,' hoping to stir some sort of interaction, even if only another argument. He couldn't help but smirk as he thought of this, and his mind became just a tad less tired.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>20-12-2010, 05:45:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra, upon being deposited in the tent, began to rifle through his things, the orders for today, for any sort of clue as to their objective. She needed information if she was going to run, going to warn the cities ahead of them. Upon finding nothing of value, however, she sighed, overcome by weariness. Her feet dragged, as she returned to his large sleeping pillow, and sat down again to study her filthy hands. She sighed, softly, wishing for water to clean them with. But there was none.<br><br>She leaned back, her eyes closing, as she relaxed back. She was weary, from her hard sleep last night, and drifted, not even noticing as her captor returned. How could he expect her to believe one word he said? After his company, his army ravaged her home. Tore everything she had away. After they killed her family, took her. How could she trust him for a moment? Her eyebrows creased, in her light doze, as he sought her, and she turned on her side, hiding her hands from view in her wealth of hair.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>21-12-2010, 00:38:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled as she ignored him and rolled out of view. Dirt was abound in the tent, as usual, but now it had decided to start invading his companion after the days events, and she got it everywhere in her determination to avoid him. He was in every essence of the word, a monster, and who would not fear a man who kills with a cold and calculating mind? Who would trust such a man, except those who are bound by oath and fealty? He knew there was no reason for her to believe, confide, or stay with him. Yet still he persisted. As he rose from his seat to answer the rapping on the flap, still he though up ways of kindness. And even as he set the large wine-bowl of water by his pillow, his smile remained, a morbid sign on a grotesque face. At least, that was from her point of view. Beauty <em>is</em> in the eye of the beholder after all.<br><br>He let the bowl sit next to her without a second thought, and swiftly went back to his desk. There were a few dull and boring matters that needed to be looked over with a casual glance, but it was mostly just to look like he was doing something. He spoke up, his voice seemingly aimed at no-one in particular, as though he were simply vocalizing his thoughts, or reading a note aloud. "Well, I guess tomorrow we will arrive in Tyrecheas. Supposedly, some politician had already gotten to the governor in command, and we're being allowed free passage. Alert the men later. March will remain in full garb, but cumbersome equipment may be left in the caravans. We will stay in Tyrecheas for a total of two days while the Polemarch consults with the Consular General. Men will be given partial leave, and security will be handled by the city guard." He rustled a few papers that were under his gaze, and whispered something, albeit at an awkwardly high volume. "Those fools are as incompetent as ever I hear..." Marconius smirked to himself as he laid back, an audible sigh coming from him as he hit the wooden backboard, and simply chuckled. He knew exactly what the two leaders would speak of the next day, it was the same with every campaign, and he was eager to hear of the results. <br><br>After all, it would in turn decide his fate and destiny.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>26-12-2010, 18:29:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra listened to his musings incredulously. He was telling her that the guards were incompetent. That she could slip away as they reached the city. She finally roused herself, silently, and her eyes fell on the basin of water. How could such a horrible person be so kind? It was courtesy that was almost unheard of. She watched him, hating how hard it was to dislike him, as she washed the dirt from her hands, and face, sponging the rest of the water over her skin. Finally, she moved to stand before him. "Are you really going to let me go?" She asked softly, looking into his eyes for the first time. She stood silently, waiting for his response. He'd more or less broken her hate for him. He'd never once been cruel to her, and he Had never given her a reason to hate him, other than commanding a company, and marching with orders. Did he enjoy killing people? Invading?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>26-12-2010, 19:39:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marcus returned her gaze, the same demonic eyes that had scared off countless foes, docilely looking at this distressed maiden. Perhaps that was the cause of all this, he thought. He may simply have wanted to be the hero in someone's story. But wasn't that why he was in the military? A career of masculine fame and glory? His eyes belied none of the maelstrom that swept around his mind, instead only reflecting a soft, guardian-like tenderness. "You have some beautiful eyes, dear. You should try smiling more often, I hear it's good for the soul." He chuckled as he let his chair fall on all four legs once again. "Who know's if it's helped mine though." <br><br>He stood from his seat in one fluid motion, before walking towards his disheveled companion. He gently wrapped his arms around her waist without a word, his lips holding inches from her ear. His voice was a quiet and luscious whisper as it came out, the words hard to push out, going against his most primeval desires. "I will do what I can to set you free. If I could do so now without the chance of you being picked up by one of the thousands of men around here, I would do so." He smirked as he continued, his hands subconsciously pressing her tighter against his hard yet comforting body. "It's weird... On the battlefield i'm known as "Hades' Assistant," yet here I've turned to butter over an orphaned girl... I must be losing my edge." He withdrew slightly with a quiet chuckle, so that he could gaze into her eyes once more. They were no more than a couple inches apart, and Marcus was losing ground against the temptation. "Can you tell me your name now, my muse?" was the last thing he said, his voice dwindling off into the cozy air around them, as his lips pressed lightly against her own, holding for a few moments before pulling back far enough to give her room to speak.<br><br>He waited for words, or fists. Either presented him with an interesting night ahead.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>27-12-2010, 16:54:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra couldn't help the flush that bloomed across her cheeks, creeping down her neck and chest as he complimented her, his voice soft, as if he were still musing. Her eyes darted away from his only for a moment, before they returned, meeting his without a hint of the shyness that had derailed her. At his touch, her entire body jumped to attention, every muscle tense, a slight tremble shuddering through her as his lips approached her ear. And his voice, gods and goddesses, it nearly undid her. What was he doing? Was this all some ruse to seduce her? She barely cared, because his words, also hit home. Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden, as he promised to help her escape, and her hands rose, fisting in the back of his tunic in the best semblance of a hug she could give him. She blinked hard, as he pulled back, swallowing whatever had been rising in her throat, maybe a sob. Her eyes were wide, large, and glazed over with tears of gratitude. <br><br>She gasped, softly, as his lips pressed against hers. Unbidden, her eyes closed, and although she stiffened from shock again, she pressed back, her lips against his, hands tightly fisted in his tunic. She owed him a kiss, at least. Her eyes opened, again, as he pulled back, and she let out the shuddery breath. "Cassandra." She whispered softly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>27-12-2010, 18:03:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled to himself as he brought one arm from her waist up, gently brushing against her soft skin with his rugged fingers, wiping away her tears. "Well then Cassandra. It's nice to finally meet you." He held her in his arms for a few more moments, his body refusing to let go. It was a sensation that was long forgotten to him, and one that was hard to forget. He wondered to himself if he could really let her leave. But perhaps that was for the best after all. There's no room for comfort in war, and it's a warrior's job to kill efficiently and without emotion. Such is the nature of battle, and, until recently, the nature of Marconius as well.<br><br>There was one more thing that he felt was needed, necessary, for Marconius and his companion to start anew. With his earlier whisper he spoke once more, his voice this time subtly erratic, on the verge of nervous. The words felt awkward coming up his throat, even though they were two simple ones. <em>"Forgive me... Cassandra."</em> He chuckled once, unbelieving of such sensitive words coming from his lips. Part of him was wondering why he should even ask for forgiveness, but it had been overridden by this dark usurper, a relic of the past come once again to try and reclaim a semblance of sincerity. Marconius gave her one kiss on the cheek, before letting her out of his arms. <br><br>He smiled down at her with his usually-intimidating eyes, and with the gaze of a guardian-angel, spoke. "It's getting late my dear, and we have a long march ahead of us. Let us retire for the night... Cassandra." It felt good to have a name to speak, a name to dream about, a name to hold dear. But it was also a name to lose, and a name to mourn, and Marconius felt that day was drawing ever closer. He smirked to himself as he rebuked his weaker-self's thoughts. <em>Hades itself cannot stop me from achieving my fate... I am sure of it.</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>01-01-2011, 18:01:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra stared up to him, stunned. He wanted forgiveness? She had only just begun to like him, she didn't want to think about why she'd hated him in the first place. There had been blood on him and his sword. He'd killed innocents, just like every other soldier. But then, did h have a choice? If he deserted, he would be killed, imprisoned. She was still gaping up t him, as he pulled away, and suggested they retire for the night. She nodded silently, and turned away, her ams coming up to hold herself close. The thought of forgiveness hurt. How could she without betraying her family? How could she not? Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? She was willing to be civil and kind to him, now. Why demand more? <br><br>But it hadn't been a demand, had it? It had been a plea. His voice had been nervous, and afraid. She stepped back toward his bedding, and, steeling herself, turned back around, wiping the expression of stunned hurt from her face. She looked at him, for a moment, before stepping to the far side, and sinking to sit on the pillows, her back once again to Marconius.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>01-01-2011, 21:25:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>The night went by without any further words. The world herself was afraid to intrude on this couple's silence. However, the silence could only last so long, and the conflicting emotions brewing within both of them would only grow stronger in the days to come...</em><br><br>Marconius awoke, grumbling, to the sound of carpenters uprooting tents and smithies, loading an entire army's structure onto an impressive chain of wagons and carts. Although to this man, it was more annoying than anything else. It was a miracle that he could sleep in a chair, sitting on only two legs. He stood, his back sore, but not unbearably so, and walked over to pour himself a cup of somewhat chilled water, the rejuvenating substance passing through his lips to refresh his body. He gave a subtle glance over towards the rear of the tent, and his usual smirk came through. What a fool he had been last night. It was almost scary when he looked back on it, that he'd be turned so soft in such a place. There was simply something about this woman that touched him. That called out to him. And he refused to acknowledge the simple and obvious reason. <br><br>He walked over to her, rather, <em>his</em> bed, and laid another cup of water next to her. His voice was subtle and regaled with it's usual playful tone, as one of his hands patted her on the head. "Come now my dear, we should get some breakfast before the wagons close up. We have a long day ahead of us, and if we hurry, we may make it to the city by night-fall. Our scouts say a bridge along our route has been rebuilt, and if we can take advantage of it before the raiders hit again, we may gain some valuable time." Marconius chuckled as he finished his explanation, however it dull it was. "You're probably not interested in that however..." His eyes gazed off into the distance as his mind dwelled, recalling the prior night's events. <em>"Beautiful eyes for a Beautiful woman.. Just like the princess in a fable..."</em> His voice was simply a mumble in her ears, as Marconius stood once more with his usual expression and donned his ornate armor.<br><br>After he finished, he simply turned to her, his hand extended in either polite help or controlling dominance, and told her one last thing before heading out. "Tolerate one more of these bland meals, and I promise I'll treat you to a proper one when we arrive." And with that, the pair left, out to eat a hearty breakfast of bread and soup. <br><br><em>Oh, What I'd do for some Meat...</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>26-01-2011, 04:38:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra awoke to a hand atop her hair, the sounds of shouting crossing the grounds, and Marconius' vice. He was halfway through saying something she didn't really hear as her eyes opened to meet his. She groaned softly, as he stood and walked away, and stretched, pushing herself into a sitting position and rolling her shoulders. She drank deeply from the tepid water, and sighed as he turned back, promising her a proper meal. She blinked silently, and nodded, stepping close, and slipping her hand into his, heart thudding in her chest. She trailed behind him, as he lead her toward the dining tent, keeping her head down and her shoulders hunched, as the stray call met her ears. The men were restless, and they took it out on her.<br><br>"Sir, I'd give my arm to you for a night with that one!" A bold man called, amongst the whistled, as half-yelled insults. <em>Whore, slut, slave.</em> Her eyebrows knotted together, as she tried to keep the words out, her stomach churning on its emptiness.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>26-01-2011, 17:35:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius blocked out all of the calls, simply pulling his companion tightly against his side as he continued walking. They were the yells and screams of animals, and it was not their fault in the least. After all, it was he who made them into those beasts, and the others just like him, who turned willful and hard-working men into savages. But, alas, that is war, and Marconius had fought tooth and nail all these years just to repel their fate. He made no reaction to all but the bravest, for whom he gave the glare of a man who could indeed take his arm off, and beat him to death with it. There weren't too many of those brave souls around, but still he whispered down to Cassandra, his gaze still looking around as he took in his surroundings. "Straighten yourself, my dear. A person only loses their dignity if they allow it to be taken."<br><br>He walked up to the wagon carrying the massive barrels, and was handed two ceramic bowls of beef broth soup, and two torn pieces of bread. He found an empty wagon nearby, and set the food on it as he lifted her up. Nero smiled to her as he sat on the edge of it, and passed her the food. "You have a beautiful body and soul. Don't let those men get to you." He smirked to her as he teased, a piece of bread waiting in front of his mouth.<br><br>"They're probably just jealous."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>26-01-2011, 17:45:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She blinked up at him, as he offered her the wisdom, and followed his instructions, straightening her back, and squaring her shoulders. She was frightened, and hurt by the yells, no one would have dared to before, but she would be damned if she let them see it, now that he'd reminded her. She would remain the proud, scholar's daughter if it killed her, to the last. A soft voice inside of her whispered that she had him to blame for the calls, for her loss of pride and dignity, but she refused to listen to it. He was all she had for now, and even if she didn't forgive him, she was willing to forget it for now.<br><br>She trailed behind him, all the way to the wagon, and allowed him to lift her, finally ignoring the calls of the men, and looked to him, as she sipped the broth. "Of course they are." She replied softly. "You have a woman, and they have not. They are soldiers on a forced march across Greece. How long must it have been for most of them? Father..." she paused, and swallowed thickly, "Father always used to say that the longer you deprive a man of his needs, the less of a man he becomes."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>26-01-2011, 21:07:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius took a sip of his soup as he smirked to himself. His voice was soft and calm, a Commanders voice as he spoke of the facts of the world. "Your father was a wise man... My father always used to say that 'War is not waged between men, but between animals. Monsters stripped of their humanity.' He was a kind soul, but sorrow and vengeance can power many things. He joined the army for the sake of his wife, and I for my mother. In another world, perhaps our families could've been friends... But war does not respect our fantasies." He finished of the rest of his soup, setting the bowl down and looking over to her with his calm expression.<br><br>"Tell me Cassandra. If I were to give you a knife, would you strike me down?" He chuckled to himself as he laid back against the wooden frame, his gaze aiming skyward as he continued his outward thoughts. "I know that feeling too well, but every-time you feed it, it becomes harder to dispose of... The Gods themselves are condoning our suffering, so perhaps this is the way it is meant to be." <br><br>He propped himself up with his elbows, jumping up to his feet, as he stared towards the front of the caravan. He glanced over his shoulder, his usual carefree expression returning, and spoke more at ease. "Hate me or not though, I know my father always wished for me to let the past lay where it fell, and that's how I live my life." And with a rough lurch, the train of wagons began to move forward, towards the destination that would shape the couple's future for better or for worse.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>26-01-2011, 21:25:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra pondered his question for a long time, before replying slowly. "I do not think I would." She finally replied, looking up as he jumped from the wagon, and strode away. She watched as he left her, and sighed softly, drinking the last of the broth, and hugging her knees to her chest. She didn't know where he went, but he had not asked her to follow. She guessed it was a safe enough place for her. The men were busy marching, weren't they?<br><br>She spent the time on the wagon pondering over what she felt for him. It wasn't hate. Not any more. But... She couldn't forgive him for the murder of innocents, nor could she condemn him for it. So what did she feel? She liked him, when she could forget bout those whose blood stained his hands. And when she couldn't forget she felt more guilt than aught else. She watched the countryside roll by passively, as she contemplated, trying to ignore how badly she wanted a bath, and a new set of clothing. She smelled like a stable.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>26-01-2011, 22:08:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius had spent an hour or so conducting up and down the line, until his second-in-command was free to take over. At that point, he swiftly made his way back to the empty wagon, another couple pieces of bread in his hands. He kept pace with the train as he approached, and then did a bounding jump onto the back of it, smirking to himself as he landed it. He knelt beside her and handed her some food as he sat, his back against the wall of the wagon. "Sorry about that, I figured they needed some help, and I thought I'd give you some time alone for a bit."<br><br>He playfully pulled her leg out from under her depressing position as Marconius smirked towards her, his teeth sinking into a mildly tasteful chunk of bread. He spoke between bites, his body enjoying the gentle fresh-air. "No need to look so sad. We'll be at the city in no time at all. And when we get there..." He leaned over towards her with his playful grin as he attempted to cheer her up. "We'll get fresh food, fresh clothes, and a fresh bath. I promise."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>26-01-2011, 22:29:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra jumped, as he thudded beside her onto the wagon, staring at him incredulously. He could have been killed pulling a stunt like that. She shook her head at him silently, as he handed her the bread, and sighed. "If you get yourself killed, what would happen to me?" She asked, in half reprimand, half honest curiosity. A his bidding, she hung her legs over the edge, and leaned back. All of his promises sounded wonderful to her ears, but still. "What is going to happen when we reach the city?" He'd said that it had already surrendered, so that was good at least. But then... Would he let her go? Let her run? But what good would that do? Nobody knew who she was. She could be sold back into slavery. She was once free, but that title had been stripped when he took her, hadn't it?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>26-01-2011, 23:31:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius dusted the crumbs off his hand over the edge of the wagon, as he looked over to her. "Well, Honestly... More than likely you'd be thrown to the men like a piece of meat, and then left for dead alongside the road. The army doesn't like carrying useless weight around after all." It was a strange thought to him. He hadn't even gone over the possibility of it. "I doubt I could allow myself to go ahead and die now that someone depends on me though. So please, don't worry about it." He flashed her a reassuring smile as he leaned back with her.<br><br>"When we get to the city, there'll be a small ceremony by the Polemarch, and then the troops will be given a day or two to relax and celebrate the campaign so far. I'll let you decide what path you'd like to take Cassandra, and do my best to make it a reality. Simple as that." He ran a hand through his coarse hair as he smiled at her, the moment one of serene tranquility, and of nervous anxiety.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>26-01-2011, 23:38:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It would be easier if he were a man. She could enlist in an army, apprentice to someone, work in the fields. As a woman? She was likely safest with him, even if she did not want to be. But then, could she run ahead? Warn the cities on the path? Where was the army marching? And to what end? Dare she ask? She sighed again, and shook her head. "What would you have me do?" She asked him, deciding to be frank. She turned to him, meeting his eyes steadily for what felt like the first time.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 02:22:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius shrugged at her with a chuckle. He honestly didn't have an answer for her, simply because he hadn't thought that far ahead. He had been so preoccupied with the means to get her to leave, that he completely overlooked the possibility of her staying. Now that he thought about it though, it wasn't like it was for his sake; it was simply the best option available. "I'm not sure..." He smiled to her as his hand went out to stroke her cheek, his voice soothing and gentle as it brushed through the air. <br><br>"But this is a nice start."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 02:55:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She stilled, blinking slowly as his hand reached for her cheek, remembering his lips on hers last night. She watched him, making no move to deny him, nor to encourage him. She felt like either would be a betrayal. Encouragement to her father, and denial... How could she want his touch? She'd been stunned when he hadn't followed her to bed. Isn't it what he wanted? It was confusing, frustrating, she didn't know where she stood and what he wanted from her. Her tangled hair framed bright blue eyes, and her pale, dirty face, beginning to burn from the sun.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 03:15:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius scooted across the wagon floor, his armored body settling itself next to his puzzled companion as she sat under the sun. He pulled the cape out of the leather clasps, and hung it above her head with a slight chuckle. "There. Now you don't have to look at me anymore. It seems that every-time you do you seem more and more detached, and I more than understand why..." He shook off the feeling as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and laid his head back. His voice came up again quietly, barely above a whisper in comparison to the nature that surrounded them.<br><br>"Dwelling on the past isn't what my father wanted, and I'm almost certain neither did yours..." Marconius' eyes gazed up at a flying hawk, soaring high above the caravan. <em>How nice it must be to live without a care in the world...</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 03:38:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra blinked at him, frowning slightly. Detached She supposed she could understand it. Before it was hate. Now... now she didn't know what to feel. "If he didn't want you living in the past, why are you still enlisted?" She asked softly, relaxing a fraction against him, letting her eyes drift closed under the hot sun. How could he know what her father wanted? Even if he did want her to live in the present and forget the attack, would he really want her to sleep with the enemy? Did it matter what he wanted? He was dead. But... Marconius would still kill people if ordered. How could she forgive that? How could she get past it? How could she ignore how good his arm felt around her shoulders? Why did he refuse to make sense?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 05:00:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius let out a soft sigh, his smirk settled comfortably across his face. His arm gently rubbed up and down her arm as he spoke, his voice mellow and even as he tried to make sense of himself. "That's a good question... I guess the official reason is because it's what I do best. I'm good with people, I know how to organize, and I can take charge of a bad situation. It's odd how such good-intentioned abilities can end up being applied to war, but Father always said that fighting was in our nature as people. The god's themselves bicker and fight, and so do we.&nbsp; Only, I suppose it's different between immortals..."<br><br>Marconius shook off his derailed thoughts and turned to her, smiling as he realized she was leaning against him, ever so slightly. "But, to put it bluntly, I just chose the path that was open for me, and went through it. Perhaps I'm simply trying to surpass my old man. Your guess is as good as mine." Marconius let out a soft laugh as he finished his not-entirely-helpful answer. "But now it's my turn to ask you a question..." His arm pulled her softly against him as he continued. "What do you think of me, Cassandra? I can tell that you're fighting yourself on the inside, and I want to help you decide it out. Think out loud even. Just let me help. Consider it, repentance."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 05:13:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was no more than musing aloud. He had no more sense in his head than she did. Cassandra sighed, as he turned his own question on her. "I do not know. You are kind, and gentle and you have not once ravaged me, or even really looked at me in the manner of husbands and wives, which I do know is odd for a captor and his slave." She began. "But... You have killed innocent people. I saw the blood on your sword, your armor. Even if it were not you who struck the blow to my family, you were a willing participant in this slaughter. I like you, but it feels like a betrayal to my father, the women who raised me, my city, everyone I ever knew and loved. Not to mention myself. Your army has taken everything from me, and I am left with you, a kind killer who touches me as if I will break at the slightest breeze." She finished, and sighed softly. "How am I supposed to think of you? How am I to like you when you continue on in this horrible army to kill more civilians?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 05:31:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled as she spoke, making a good amount of sense, but with a few inconsistencies. "I see... You believe this is a mass-murdering machine ravaging the cities of the entire world..? We are an army on campaign. It is not our intent to raze entire cities to the ground, but there are occasions; like when one of my superiors is killed by a rebel ambush, while I was negotiating the terms of surrender. After such a thing, it is difficult to maintain order, and soldiers grow paranoid and fearful. I am far from excusing myself from my sins, but do know that we do not get our kicks from slaughtering unarmed men and women. There's no sport in fighting someone who can't fight back, but it is those who do fight back that eventually set off the flints of war. It is simply the nature of things..." He let out a deep sigh as he finished, depressed slightly by his own words. "It's a sad affair, but a necessary one. And as for liking me, that's something you alone can find. All I can do is help clarify the world around you, and Hope." He didn't dare go farther into the truth of the raze yet. He feared it would be too much. But he knew that eventually... <br><br>He would tell her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 05:37:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"So you suggest that cities just passively allow invading armies to pass through, eat their supplies, partake in what, and whomever they please, and do as they may because they are on campaign? And.. Sport? Where is there sport in killing anyone" She asked, her eyes flashing as she straightened up. Where was his logic? Her jaw set, and again, the passion o anger flared in her eyes. as much as she may like him, how could she ever look past his obstinate view? How could she look past the people he had killed? The lives he had ruined? Her life? "You have no idea." She finally whispered, wishing she dared jump from the wagon and run, right then.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 18:15:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius could only chuckle, his laughter growing as his head laid back against the wall of the wagon. "No idea you say? I'm sorry my lady, but that is out of line. The world doesn't conform to your fantasy of peace and happiness. Do you wish to know why we're on campaign in this bloody place, thousands of miles from home?" His voice was serious and carried a tone of vengeful emotion as he spoke, his teeth gritting at some words. His eyes were aflame with passion, as if he were in the battlefield itself. "Because this is simply War. Three years ago, this Kingdom attacked us without mercy. It is our turn now. I lost my mother, my uncles, friends and families turning up charred to a crisp with only a medallion or bracelet to identify them; half the capital Razed before we could hold them back. Do you know the feeling of having your mother stabbed to death as she cradles you? The spear points thrusting through her as she simply smiles at you, praying to the gods that they don't find you. You may know pain, but witnessing it with your own two eyes is a different story. So, On the Contrary Cassandra, You are the one who has no idea. <em>That</em> is why this army marches with fervent animosity. We fight on because of the cruel cycle of our nature."<br><br>He let out a long sigh as he calmed himself, Marconius' hand going to shield his eyes from the vibrant sun. "I truly wish things were as you hope my dear... But there is no stopping the flow of the world. Olympus and Hades will perpetually be enemies, and we are simply caught in their current. Heh, Pathetic. Here I am making excuses again... Excuse my outburst, it was unprofessional of me." He looked over at her his eyes subtly fierce as he gave closure to his words. "Just remember, underneath everyone is a monster, waiting for his moment. Don't think you are any exception, as I doubt you would've hesitated to strike me or my men down if we gave you the chance at the very beginning." He chuckled as he let himself fall to the side, his back laying on the floor of the wagon as he gazed up at the blue sky above. He muttered something under his breath as he smirked. <br><br><em>"This promise of mine is becoming frightfully heavy, sire."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>27-01-2011, 18:30:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra simply shook her head, and carefully moved away from him. So she knew his reasons. How was perpetuating the same horrors making the situation any better? He was right though. She would have murdered him in a second given a chance at the first. Hell she would still murder any number of his men. But the difference was - they killed innocents. They murdered families and killed people. They were the perpetrators. If war was simply fought on battlefields it would be different. She hadn't heart his soft mutter, nor did she care to. When they got to the city, she would leave. She would find drudge work or something. Anything to get away from this infuriating man and the horrifying army. She felt drawn to him, but every time they spoke he simply angered, confused, and frustrated her. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>28-01-2011, 03:50:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius sat in silence before a moment, before he spoke once more, unable to let the conversation, or argument, die there. Now was as good a time as any, he thought, to shed some light on the final caveat of the story. "While we're being blunt with our affairs, perhaps now is the best time to say it. Your father was slain by one of your men, not ours. You like to believe that everything is as it seems, but rarely is it so my dear. You see, the Polemarch does not enjoy negotiating with selfish bafoons, as was the case with your sweet governor, and so he sent me and my fellow officers out to find a more suitable representative. But things didn't go as well as we'd hoped, because you see Cassandra, this town of yours was not as docile as either of us believed." He tilted his head back, his hand shielding his face as he took a slight pause.<br><br>"Six of the nine commanders who went out to search were assassinated while speaking with decoys, men who had false credentials in order to occupy them as they were murdered. Two were wounded, but fought off or killed the would-be assassins, and one was saved. That one was I. Now, I can't be certain, but guessing from your foolish idealism of the world, I've made the conclusion that this man was indeed your father. I had been speaking with him for a few minutes about a couple more philosophical topics, when a man broke through my guard, and brandished a knife on me. Your father felt himself the hero-type, and I would have to agree I suppose, as he reached over to disarm the man as I deflected his blade. In a past life, perhaps he was a man no weaker than I in combat, but an unarmed 'innocent' as you say, cannot do too well against live steel. He fell by the assassins blade, and the assassin by mine. As his dying wish, he told me to find his daughter and make sure she was well, but by that time the army was already rushing into the city, the alarm of rebellion signalling the final assault. I agreed to his promise, if only to ease his passing, but only recently did I realize that I've been keeping it all along. So, before you continue to judge me with those condescending gazes of yours, realize that it was not our intention to fight, and I dare you to control five-thousand men while they celebrate simply returning from hell."<br><br>"Yes, that was your father's blood on my armor that morning we met... but it should've been my own." Marconius let his voice rest as he finished, his body falling as he laid on his side, taking comfort in the hard wooden floor. He tossed a small sheathed knife towards her as he fell, his final point to the argument. He had laid it all out, and there was nothing left for him to say. All there was to do, was to undergo her decision, and do so as a man. <br><br>At the very least, it was a nice day outside.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>28-01-2011, 04:10:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra listened silently as he recounted his story, her heart breaking again. How would he know? How did he know it was her father? But somehow, she believed it. Her father would try to stop an assassin if he believed there would be peace resulting from it. He would have done it for the city. For her. He may have been a tough old bastard, but her father had been a good man. But still. "How do you know the man you spoke with was my father?" She whispered, ignoring the knife, for now. What did he expect her to do with it? Kill him? He was her protection, and his death would not bring her father back. Nor avenge him. Marconius had already done that. Were the people in her city really to blame for the carnage? A rebellious group looking for glory? Sparking the fire that tore through her home?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>28-01-2011, 23:40:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius spoke through lips that wished not be opened, as he reiterated his words. He had given her all his reasonings, all his secrets, and all his histories. "As I said, I'm not certain, but I tell you this, I had this exact same argument during the few minutes I spoke to this man, and simply made a conclusion on it. Believe it or not; it is not my concern. I have told you everything I am and have been, and now simply await judgement..." Marconius let out a soft chuckle as he turned onto his back, his armor gleaming in the sun as his thoughts ran on ahead without him. <br><br>"Let me at least lay for a while longer, before you ask of me anymore." He was feeling oddly poetic at the moment, yet all he wanted to do, if only for a few seconds longer, was to stare up at the infinite expanse of the sky, and pretend he was a hawk, free of all this war and carnage and heart-break. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>29-01-2011, 00:20:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra remained silent as he'd asked, instead closing her eyes, trying to absorb the information, consider. Her father had been called way, but that was usual. She'd assumed it had been to the university. Was it possible? Either, way, this army was not to blame for the carnage. At least wholly. The rug had been swept from beneath her feet, leaving her without even the anger to sustain her. She leaned back, laying on the wagon as he did, and curled up on her side, pillowing her head on a crooked arm, as she felt her eyes begin to prick with familiar tears. She could no more stem the flow than she could rewrite history, change what he had said. She had nothing left and she felt empty and broken because of it. Eventually the tears slowed, and sleep followed in their wake, along wit the swinging wagon. If she pretended, she could imagine arms cradled her, holding her against the horrors and shielding her in her sleep.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>29-01-2011, 02:14:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius laid still as he heard the soft weeping of his companion. He grit his teeth in silence as he fought himself, determined to let her be. She didn't need him interfering any further, and it would only complicate things again. He laid in peace, watching the clouds go by as the caravan moved ever closer to it's destination. His ears heard her discomfort, even in sleep, and he reached out to stroke her shoulder gently as she slept, until he noticed how much she was actually shaking. Marconius sat himself up as he gazed down at her huddled form, and sympathized with her. She was another victim of war; stripped of her entire world, and now left alone to walk through her life. Even the monster inside of him couldn't help but feel emotional for this woman for which he had grown fond of, and once again, he unclipped the legionary cape on his back. He knelt beside her as he gently tucked it under her head, rolled up in a tight bundle as her sleeping face made it's imprint on the soft fabric. <br><br>Marconius fell back next to her, his hand reaching out for hers as he interlocked with her shaky fingers. If he was to be the ultimate cause of her hardship, then he would do everything in his power to give her back her comfort. A few words escaped his lips in a soft mutter, as he smiled over to her, before returning to his riveting game of cloud-counting. <br><br>"Don't Cry, Cassandra..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>29-01-2011, 02:36:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She didn't sleep very long. An hour, maybe two. She slowly woke, feeling sore, though she had no clue why. Her eyes felt as if filled with sand, and her shoulder was uncomfortable from the way she slept on it. Slowly, she became aware of the cape folded beneath her head, and the fingers intertwined with hers. With a deep inhale, she pushed herself up, and looked over to him, scrubbing her eyes with the back of her wrist. She offered him a small smile of thanks, before looking up to the sky, trying to gauge how long it had been. She sighed softly, pulling her hand back from his, and scrubbed her hands over her face. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>29-01-2011, 02:52:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius glanced over to her as she awoke, her smile the only reward he needed for all of his deeds. He spoke with a calm and soft voice, as he sat up as well. His words teased her, gently trying to lift the miasma of despair that had been clogging this wagon. "Next time, I'll let you use a real bed. I've slept on wood before; it's not pleasant." He gave her a flash of his playful grin as he laid a hand on her shoulder, glad to feel her steady once more. "You were shaking in your sleep... I'm glad your feeling a bit better."<br><br>Marconius told her about the bridge they passed, and of the various details of their trip. The sun was falling in the west, and they were making excellent time. They'd arrive at the city as the sun set in the horizon, and that'd leave plenty of time for him to make true on his promises. He specifically made sure to mention that last part, as he spoke. A warm bath and a hot meal would hopefully help ease her through the hell she had stumbled upon, if only slightly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>29-01-2011, 03:00:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Oh..." She muttered softly, as he mentioned her shaking. That would explain the soreness. She listened silently, and offered him another small twitch of her lips as he again promised her a bath and good food. "Thank you." She said softly, listening again as he explained the details of her trip. "If I wanted to stay in the city..." She finally began, "I don't even know what I could do... But then..." She didn't know what to do. She knew that with him she would t least be safe. But that would mean she had to follow an army, not to mention stay with him. How could she like such an infuriating individual.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>29-01-2011, 03:14:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius sat in a leisurely position as he spoke with her, his mind matching his appearance. For once he was finally somewhat care-free, with the roar of the battlefield a distant memory. He was glad to have this kind of peace, which he would've never imagined be attainable by a man like him, and simply took the good grace of the gods for it's worth. He couldn't find the nerve to come out and claim her as his own, and profess, but something inside him also said that this was enough. They could part ways at the city, and he felt he'd be happy. "Listen. If you wish to stay in the city... I'm sure I could find you a servant job around the city, or perhaps a position at a weavery. Do not let such things influence your decision. I will do my best to support you regardless of your choice, -"<br><br>Marconius saw the page and his steed running towards him from the van, and instantly knew what time it was. He let out a heavy sigh as he remembered what he was to do. He threw on his usual smirk as he turned to Cassandra. "Well, you're in for a treat after all. It seems like we're to head out ahead of the group and conduct the cease-fire. We'll be there in no time." He stood in the wagon, his balance un-shifted, as he reached out for her hand, helping her off the wagon as the page came up to hand them the horse. <br><br>"No time at all..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>29-01-2011, 03:43:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Somehow, it hurt her that he could so easily arrange for her to get a job. She could weave, what woman couldn't? But still. It would likely mean she would never see the man who had saved her again. She didn't like that idea any more than following an army. As he stood, she gathered herself, and his cloak, hugging it close as he agilely lept from the wagon. She followed him down, with his assistance, and smiled softly, looking to the horse with a soft grimace. Her rear still reminded her of her first ride every once in a while. She waited for the boy and the horse to reach them, and looked up to Marconius. What exactly did a cease-fire entail? And why did he want her along? She wasn't sure why, but she didn't mind. She wanted to spend s much time with him before she made her choice, just in case she never did see him again. He was infuriating, yes, but he was also kind, and she would miss him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>29-01-2011, 06:23:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When the messenger boy arrived, a kid no older than 13 years of age, Marconius gave him a gentle nod, and tossed him a coin. The boy threw on a wide smile as he started running back to his camp, excited over the tip. Marconius swiftly switched his attention back to the matter at hand, and assisted Cassandra with mounting the horse, his hands brushing over her behind less than accidentally, as he climbed on himself, sitting behind her as his arms wrapped around to grab the reins. He always enjoyed the thrill of a running horse, but something told him that she wasn't as excited as he was. He decided to take the horse out on a steady gallop, and not his usual break-neck speed. Marconius wore his usual smirk, radiant in the sunny day and perfect weather, and it was obvious that there wasn't a single worry going through his mind. Why should there have been. At the very least, he was about to have a nice celebration to see his fair maiden off into the world, and that was...<br><br>Something he was already fearing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>29-01-2011, 06:29:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra clenched her teeth, as he aided her up onto the beast, and gasped slightly, as his hands strayed over her rump. She looked down at him, eyes wide, as he mounted up behind her, a blush staining her cheeks, before he nudged the horse forward, running quickly alongside the road. The source of her problem was that she did not know how to move with the horse. She sat rigidly atop its back, as it rolled beneath her, bruising her buttocks and stiffening her back. Her hands wound in its wiry mane, and her legs clamped uncomfortably on its sides. How in the world did he manage to ride so often How did he enjoy it? She'd seen the smile on his face and she simply could not understand it. This felt very much like torture, and after today, if she never had to ride a horse again, it would be too soon for Cassandra.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>30-01-2011, 17:57:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled as he felt her bouncing up and down against the horse, more than aware of her uncomfortable position. They were in for a good hour or two of riding, so he felt it was only <em>polite</em> to help and make her more comfortable with it. That was why she soon felt his arm wrapping around her waist, temptingly low on her hips, as he spoke into her ear. His voice was sensual and warm as his breath touched her skin, partly because he enjoyed a good tease. <br><br>"Try and go with the rhythm of the beast. Gently press your body against him, and slowly ride up and down with him." Marconius had to stifle a laugh as he gave her his erotic-seeming advice, his arm trying to help guide her without being tempted to do something completely different. "Just relax, and it'll make the trip a lot easier on you. Trust me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>30-01-2011, 23:13:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra stiffened even more, as she felt his arm slide around her waist, holding her close, carefully, his fingers low on her hips, a place where she knew, were they unclothed would send a shock through her body. Her hips and back had always been sensitive, as she had once found while being dressed to meet some important people. The servants had always avoided that area as a result of her shriek of surprise. Her eyes closed, and she inhaled deeply, as his lips moved close to her ear, his breath puffing down her neck, voice pitched in a tone that made her back tighten. She tried to pay attention to his words, instead of the way he was holding her, the way his voice sounded.<br><br>"But I'll fall.." She half whispered back, not trusting the horse to carry her. But she could feel the way he was moving behind her, and did as she was told, forcing her muscles to relax. She leaned back on him, her buttocks cupped by his thighs and hips, and tried to move with him on the horse, her hips mimicking the roll of his, slowly beginning to move in tandem as her legs slowly released their death-grip. He was right, curse him. She was still sore, and it was still difficult to hold herself, but it was a thousand times more comfortable.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>31-01-2011, 01:37:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius smirked to himself as she began to relax, her body sensually sinking against his as the steed kept it's pace. His arm let her hips move on their own, but that didn't mean they'd fall back, and it laid gently below her stomach as he rode with one hand. "See? All you have to do is relax. And if you were to fall Cassandra, I promise you that I would be the one hitting the ground first." He gave her a playful chuckle as he continued riding, their final destination drawing ever closer.<br><br>The rest of their trip, now made all the more comfortable thanks to <em>somebody's</em> gracious efforts, passed by with occasional small-talk and silence, as the city walls drew formidably closer in the horizon. As they approached, one couldn't have guessed that there was a war going on, and as far as many of the merchants were concerned, there truly wasn't. They would simply be paying their taxes to a different governor, and little if anything would change in this trading city. He slowed his horse down as he made a path through the crowd, under the massive stone arch that was the gateway. A few meters away awaited a consul and his guards, dressed in the usual pompous attire, and it was not hard to miss him. Marconius gave his companion another piece of advice, and told her to wrap his cloak around her, as a form of noble attire. It was short, and didn't cover too much... but, "It's better than nothing."<br><br>Marconius dismounted, gently helping Cassandra do the same, as a stablehand came their way, leading his steed off as the couple approached the government official. Marconius spoke with his usual playful expression, but with an aura of authority and a tone of professionalism. Another battlefield for another day. "Greetings. I am Marconius Illador, Commander of the 18th Phalanx of the Raven Legion. I will be representing His Grace the Polemarch in the terms of surrender." Marconius turned sideways as to introduce his companion, although in an unexpected manner. His hand outstretched to her, he spoke with a sincere sense of honor.&nbsp; "And this is my lovely charge, Cassandra Velentine, my maiden-in-wait. We unfortunately fell upon some trouble on the way here, and did not have the opportunity to regale her with the luxuries of society. I do hope you would be so kind as to allow us some time to rejuvenate ourselves before we move onto business matters?" Marconius gave a gentle smirk as the man finished giving bows to the newly-arrived couple, taking Cassandra's hand into his own. The official led the two away from the bustling plaza and towards a towering building, where the 'luxuries of society' awaited them.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>01-02-2011, 03:44:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was an altogether pleasant ride, though she knew she would likely be walking funny for a week regardless. They talked about nothing, his hips and chest cradling her in a pleasantly intimate manner. Cassandra fund herself properly happy for perhaps the first time since her life had shattered. As he passed her his cape, she smiled softly, and wrapped it about her shoulders, covering the dirty and stained dress. She looked nothing like a suitable companion for Marconius. As they moved into the city, she drew the cloak around her closer, shrinking back nervously against him. She'd never been anywhere but home, and even then she hadn't ventured into the city often. It had been unsafe. <br><br>Her knees nearly buckled as he helped her off the giant beast, and she clutched his shoulders, as her vision faded for a moment from the long misuse of her legs. She smiled softly up to him, whispering a soft 'thank you' before he turned to the Consul. Her eyes widened, as he introduced her, and she hastily dipped in a curtsy, as she'd been taught, she had thought at the time, superfluously. As his hand closed warmly around hers, she followed him, her head ducked. She sighed softly, as they trailed away, her hand tightening around his. She hadn't expected to feel so out of place in the city.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>01-02-2011, 04:42:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius felt her hand squeeze his own, and gave Cassandra a side-long glance, his lips unable to stop a small chuckle from leaving them. "Relax. Everyone here thinks your a noblewoman, so you have nothing to worry about, 'my lady." This time, the chuckle was called for, and he flashed her his devilish smirk before glancing ahead of him once more. Apparently her new-found happiness was contagious, as Marconius found himself easily distanced from the horrors of his profession, and was able to act as his personality willed for the first time in a good while. He didn't concern himself with whether this would be the last time he'd see her, as he now saw that that was her decision to make, and he had no reason to worry and fret about it if he had no right to change it. He simply wore his smirk as they walked into the Governor's palace.<br><br>The Consul showed them a lavishly regaled room that would be their quarters for the remainder of their stay, and casually gave the couple directions to the various parts of the palace. Marconius gave a sincere hand-shake as the man made his exit, and then turned to Cassandra, leading her into the room with his playful grin. "See? Wasn't the ride worth the wait? And all you had to do was put up with me. Although, if you keep smiling like you have been lately, I might have to take you on a few more rides."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>01-02-2011, 04:54:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra offered him a soft smile in reply to his chuckle, remaining silent until they were left alone in the quarters. She was mildly surprised that they were put in the same room, but somehow felt relieved from it. Another smile broke across her face as he threatened her with more rides. "Please, no. I'm afraid I've been punished enough by that horse." She said, hiding a soft laugh behind her tone. She sighed softly, feeling filthy and desperate for a bath. The rooms were pristine, and she feared if she touched anything it would be sullied beyond repair. She allowed his cape to slide off her shoulders, and she offered it back. "Thank you, Marconius." She said softly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>01-02-2011, 19:58:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius gave her a gentle smile as he took his cape, tossing it onto the bed behind him. "You're more than welcome, my dear. I think that might be the first time you've said my name too. Somehow it sounds better coming from your lips than mine." He flashed her a smirk as he began to unlatch some of the bulkier pieces of his armor, stripping himself of his metallic protection as he set his armor at the foot of the bed. He unbuckled the sword that had laid concealed beneath his suit, and tossed that as well onto the bed. Anyone who looked at him now would've never guessed that he was in a position of power.<br><br>He walked back to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, his face carrying a graceful smirk as he began to walk with her to the door. "Now then, I think it's time for someone to live up to his promises." He was more than happy to let her have her baths and meals, as he was more than a bit eager to do the same himself. That, and the fact that Marconius has never turned down a chance at a hot bath, were simply parts of his reasoning. It would be a lie if he wasn't already imagining her nude in the sweet and steamy water.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>01-02-2011, 20:17:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He looked different without the trappings of war. He looked like a normal man. Perhaps more muscular than anyone but a farmer, but still. She smiled shyly, as he approached, allowing his arm to slip around her, resting on him, for once not feeling armor meet her weight. As he began to walk her to the door, she smiled softly, eyelashes shading her eyes, as she walked with him, looking up to him. A bath sounded so wonderful, and he'd already seen her nude. And even if he did see her nude again. If he wanted her body... She was probably already ruined, from being his lady in waiting. By the way he'd introduced her, it sounded as if she were his mistress. Everyone expected that he had taken her. Maybe she wanted him to.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>01-02-2011, 21:40:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius walked with her down the golden-hued hallway, the setting sun shining through the columns to their side. It was a lovely sight, but Marconius was looking forward to a nice soak for once, and kept his pace. He never knew when he'd have a chance like this again. He then smirked to himself as that thought ran through his mind, realizing how true it really was. He opened the large door, a bellow of steam returning his action, and caught the eye of a couple maidens, attending to the pool of delectably warm water. The Consul had read his mind. At least someone in this place was competent.<br><br>He stepped aside, Cassandra in his arm, as the women scurried away with shy smiles, their faces red not only from the steam. It had occurred to Marconius a while back as to what him and his lovely companion must look like, but he didn't mind the facade. It was an enjoyable fantasy, even if he did just make up the title out of thin air. Lady-in-waiting <em>sounded</em> like it could be real, and that's all that mattered. He shut the door behind them, as Marconius let out a great sigh of relief. "Finally... Tranquility at last." He let Cassandra loose, to attend to her own preparations, as he walked over and knelt by the edge of the marble pool, the water euphorically warm to his surveying hand's satisfaction. It didn't take another instant for him to begin to strip, passing one of his characteristic smirks to her as he did so. <br><br>Years of military service did a lot for one's inhibitions.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>02-02-2011, 02:36:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra watched him strip, as she began to try and work the knots from her hair, not wanting to get it wet and tangled. One was just as bad as the other, compounding the problem. A high blush bloomed across her cheeks, and her eyes slanted away, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a bite. She waited until she heard the splash of water to look back, and walk to the edge of the bah. It was big, but it was the only one in the room. Hesitation stalled her, as she turned, to unclip the dress and let it slip from her body. She immediately knelt and slid backwards into the water, trying in vain to shield her modesty. He'd seen it all before, and if all went well, he would do more than see it later.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>02-02-2011, 03:39:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius sat on the stone bench that grew off the wall of the beneath the water, letting his arms back onto the edge of the pool as he relaxed in the soothing water. He had stifled a laugh as she blushed, figuring out how to get in the pool while revealing as little as possible. That had only resulted in him getting an eyeful of her lovely ass as he laid his head back, his usual banter temporarily subdued by the serenity of the moment. But his mind couldn't keep still for too long, and a few moments later, Marconius decided he may as well have a little fun while they were there. He let his body sink under the water before he silently pressed off the wall behind him, his body propelled like a modern torpedo through the pool. He resurfaced right next to Cassandra with a playful splash, his hair dripping onto his gleaming body. He let out a small chuckle as he gazed at her, his usual smirk ever-present.<br><br>"Relax. This isn't the first time we've gone through this..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>02-02-2011, 03:49:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra turned, once she was covered with water to hr shoulders, pulling her hair forward to cover her breasts, just as he slipped beneath the surface. She peered through the clear water, watching him kick off the wall, and slip easily through the water, before splashing up beside her. She yelped, arms shielding her eyes as the water sprayed, and she stared at him. "I know..." She said softly. "Just..." She knew there was no logic behind it. "I-is there any soaps?" She asked, half turning away, wanting suddenly to have something to busy herself with.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>02-02-2011, 04:00:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled as she nervously asked for some distraction, <em>any</em> distraction. But, they were in a bath, so they might as well bathe. He leaned over the edge of the pool as it grabbed a basket, containing a few bricks of soap, a bowl of oil, and a couple towels. His hand pulled one of the bars out, before letting his body fall back into a more comfortable position. He extended his hand to give it to her as he spoke, his words teasing her with honesty. <br><br>"You know... you really are unbelievably cute when you're like this. Let me know if you want me to wash your back afterwards." Marconius settled against the edge of the pool once more as he gazed deeply into her bashful eyes, his usual smirk mixed with a sincere smile. He was a gentleman after all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>02-02-2011, 04:05:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra's cheeks flamed as he handed her the soap, his tone teasing, and she began to work up a lather, beginning to scrub the brick across her skin, the friction turning it pink. She made sure to wash every inch she could reach, until she turned the soap on her hair, scrubbing it through the strands. She couldn't reach her back, but she figured it would be fine, it was submerged, and the water was beginning to show the soap that rinsed from her skin. After a long while, she sighed, returning the soap to the basket, and washing her hair out. She'd scrubbed from head to toe, literally, and was ready to relax back against the side of the tub, her eyes closing, letting the warm water soothe her nerves.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>02-02-2011, 04:22:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius let her wash herself off in peace, without the probing of his devilish eyes, and simply relaxed in the soothing water. He had promised her a bath, and he would give her that much. But when she began to relax in the water, her closed eyes looking sensuously lovely as he glanced at her, he knew that he couldn't resist. It was just too much fun to make her blush like that. He began to slowly walk his way over to her, careful not to make any loud splashes, before he swiftly moved to her side, an arm wrapping around her in a coordinated motion as it pulled her back against him, his other arm sweeping in to embrace her. His arms wrapped her waist, almost as low as when they had been riding, as he spoke into her ear, his breath still distinctly warm in the steamy room. <br><br>"Boo," was the only thing he said as he gently smirked, his toned chest lightly touching her tender back.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>02-02-2011, 04:27:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her eyes flew ope as she felt an arm slide behind her, the other clasping around her waist to pull her back into a muscular frame, lips and breath brushing her ear as he whispered softly to her. She was stiff in his embrace, as she had been on the horse, before slowly relaxing, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to trust him, let him support her in the water, and let him get close. It felt good. It felt better than good, to be honest. Her head rested back against his shoulder, as her arms folded over his, breathing slowly, waiting for his next move, not certain whether she wanted him to get away from her ear or never leave it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>02-02-2011, 04:40:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius had only slightly expected her to play along with him, and it had almost taken him off-guard. Luckily in his line of work he had quickly learned how to adapt to changing situations, and this would not be the first time he adapted battlefield tactics to ordinary life. As she laid back against him, he felt her submerged ass press gently against his groin, which solicited a twitch or two from Marconius' half-asleep pal, and one which he tried to conceal with a distraction, as one arm moved softly against her skin, rising up to cup her tender breasts as he held them above the water. His eyes gave a few glances of her sensitive chest before returning to gaze down at her face, innocently seductive as he fought to take her immediately. His other hand came up to lift her chin as he leaned his head down, his lips less than an inch from hers as he spoke. His breath brushed against her wet lips as his words went by, caressing her ears as they soothingly flew through the air.<br><br>"Well, I'm glad to see you got over your inhibitions... somewhat."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>02-02-2011, 04:45:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra breathed slowly, as his hands slipped up her body, again tensing for a moment, as his hands cupped her breasts, her lips open to breathe in deeply, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. Her eyes slowly opened, and she swallowed, as he spoke, her nerves flagging. "Kiss me." She whispered, her innocent want plain on her voice. "Before I think better of it," Cassandra added, half turning in his arms to look up at him, lips still close, arms still around her. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>03-02-2011, 00:03:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius gave her a gentle smile as his voice came out, serenely carried through the steam-filled air, as his arms pulled her tight against is body. "My pleasure... Cassandra." His lips dove in, pressing tightly against hers as he began to give her a vividly passionate kiss. Her breasts squeezed tightly against his pecs as he answered her wish, and that only intensified his lustful fervor. He quickly found his tongue sliding out and between her lips, carving the way as he deepened his ardor, his tongue exploring what lay behind her lips. It was a lovely moment, and Marconius knew that not even the Gods themselves could've stopped him as he were.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>03-02-2011, 01:17:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A soft sigh of relief escaped her, as his lips pressed hers, her body fitting against his, breasts flattening against his chest. Her lips parted below his, as his tongue slipped into her mouth, delving in and out, as her arms in turn slipped around his back, pressing herself closer. Cassandra felt her knees soften, her eyes closed, as his tongue explored her mouth, her own tentiavely meeting his, slipping along its length and tasting him. She lived in the moment, until she had to pull back, panting softly through lips already beginning to swell, sucking air in so she could kiss him again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>03-02-2011, 03:36:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius sustained his kiss, one that had been held back for too long, as his body heated up in the soothing water. One of his arms slid down her waist, teasing her soft ass as it massaged and squeezed her tender cheek.&nbsp; Meanwhile, his tongue is having fun of it's own, as she puts her own passionate vigor into the moment, her lips juicy and delectable as they pressed tightly against his own. Marconius felt his body begin to stiffen with lust, as he continued to tease her ass with his playful hand. It wasn't long before his other hand grew lonely as well, and sought comfort in the warmth of her lovely breasts. He let his body part slightly as he began to fondle her sensitive chest, a small grin forming as his kisses trailed down her neck, eager to hear her reactions of lust and pleasure.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>03-02-2011, 03:49:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra made a soft noise in the back of her throat, as she felt his hand claim hold of her buttocks, squeezing firmly. She felt something flare between her legs, even as she felt his man-part become hard. Her surprise was derailed for a moment, as his hand once again found her breast, but as he pulled back, to graze kisses down her neck, she remembered. Her head canted to the side, as she whimpered softly, confused, liking it. "Marconius... what?" She whispered, knowing nothing, really, of what went on between men and women. Why was she hot between her legs? Why was he hot, and moving on its own?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>05-02-2011, 02:49:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius took her pleasurably confused expression and soft tone as an indicator, and smirked to himself as he brought his lips up to her ear, whispering comfortingly as he slid one hand around her hips from her ass, gently laying itself above her unopened flower with a serene touch. "Relax. You're enjoying this aren't you? Don't try and fight it; it is your soul that's crying out for satisfaction." He licked behind her ear as his words faded, his fingers beginning to slowly rub her sensitive sweet-spot. His voice was tender, with an evocatively protective tone as the words left his lips. He intended to guide her through this wonderful experience, and the gods be damned if he didn't take his own share of enjoyment as well.<br><br>"I'll take good care of you... I promise."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>05-02-2011, 07:15:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra couldn't fight the shudder that passed through her, as he whispered delectably into the fine shell of her ear, biting her bottom lip to stop the soft noise that fought for freedom in her throat as his tongue traced a path behind it. As his warm hand lay against her mons, she gasped slightly, feeling the warmth of his calloused hand against her in the still-warm water. She clung to him, as he began to gently move his fingers against her, unprepared for the thrill his light touch would evoke in her. She swallowed softly, and nodded against his shoulder, as she pressed her mouth to it, trying to stifle every noise that threatened to burst forth. She trusted him, and his promise. He would not harm her. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. Her hands clutched him hard, as she parted her thighs beneath the water, ,allowing him better access, her lips opening slightly with the movement.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>07-02-2011, 21:08:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius let his grin take over for his mind and body as she submitted to him, her ultimately curious soul aching for this unexperienced pleasure. When she spread her legs ever so slightly, he took the opportunity to give her the first taste of the ecstasy to come, and gently stuck one finger into her virgin flower, his breath softly laying on her skin as he kissed her neck. Her body squeezed and pulsated around him as he opened her up, her expression only adding fuel to the fire as he pulled his head back to gaze into her eyes. His lips were an inch away from hers as he spoke, his words carrying a heavy and luscious tone as they erotically teased her. "Tell me Cassandra, what do you know about the pleasures of sex? Such a beautiful and educated woman such as yourself must have come across it before. Your squeezing so tightly against me that your body's basically begging for satisfaction." He smirked to her as he gave her a gentle kiss, his lips pulling back ever so slightly as he brought a hand up to fondle one of her tender breasts, fingers sliding out to squeeze her perked-up nipple as he continued. "Even these delectable breasts of yours are becoming aroused after only some nudity and a kiss or two."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>08-02-2011, 14:50:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She couldn't stifle the gasp as his long finger slid inside of her. She clamped down instinctually, her hands clutching him tightly, as the slight discomfort, paired by the wonderfully new feeling overtook her. She shuddered, his breath, his voice maddening, as he whispered to her. "I know that... One of the servants liked to steal away with a man..." She gasped. "I followed once. She was making noises like a cat in heat, ah..." She whimpered, as his lips brushed hers, his other hand cupping her breast. She shuddered, moaning softly, as his voice continued to tease, embarrassment blooming on her cheeks as she turned her face away, embarassed by his tone. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>08-02-2011, 22:28:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius rose his arm from her tantalizing breast and gracefully brought it up, water dripping off of his fingers as they gently turned her face back towards him by the chin. He gazed into her pleading eyes as he flashed a gentle smirk. Her coy expression only encouraged him further, as his hand stroked her cheek, his seaborne hand beginning to rhythmically finger her lustful and yearning flower. His words would not stop teasing however, and he was still more than happy to press her for some extra entertainment.<br><br>"Tell me then my dear... What is it that your body is aching for? What is that feeling running through you saying?" His playful grin rode sleekly across his face as he inserted another finger, if only to accentuate his devilish nature.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>08-02-2011, 22:36:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her eyes flicked down, before she raised them again, biting her lower lip, whimpering as he to move his finger within her, nearly bringing her to her knees as his voice teased her more. "It... I..." She stammered, her eyes trapped by his, unable to think. She yelped, as his second finger slid in, stretching her. Her hands landed on his shoulders, careful to hold herself up, as she begged to him silently with her eyes, not sure whether she wanted him to stop, or never to stop. "Please..." She whimpered.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 02:41:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius placed a finger on her lips as he grinned, his smirk taking on the form of an angelic and calm smile as he spoke. "As you wish, my dear." He slowly pulled back his explorers from their forbidden cavern as he moved, his arms gracefully lifting her out of the water as he set her down on the edge of the pool. Drops shined in the steamy light along her luscious breasts and fiery skin, and Marconius couldn't resist himself any further.<br><br>His lips easily found their target, as they parted to allow his tender tongue to expose itself as it began to taste the sweet nectar that the flower had brought forth. He held her legs softly apart as he let his tongue do some exploring of his own, while his hands stroked up and down her thighs, unable to keep still. He would give her the full experience, and afterwards, she wouldn't be able to leave his side. But, just as his hands, his lips could not keep still, and once more his voice came out to erotically taunt his loving companion into lustful submission.<br><br>"Your flower is so sweet. Tell me, when you would follow that servant of yours... Did you ever try and pleasure yourself in a man's stead? No need to feel shy about it, your nectar just tastes so remarkable that I would've thought it'd gotten some 'practice'." His grin only confirmed his playful words, although his expression, and her pleasure, paused until he received an answer.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 02:49:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As his fingers left her, she felt void, empty all of a sudden, and her inner muscles clenched once again, as if begging him to come back. She sat, supporting herself with her elbows, as he sat her up, tilting her pelvis properly. And then his head lowered. The sound Cassandra made was somewhere between a scream of indignation and a moan, as his tongue began to explore, her leg twitching every so often as his tongue traced a certain route. She groaned, embarrassment warring with bliss, another moan, this one more of sorrow and frustration escaping her, as he stilled his tongue again, teasing and prodding from between her parted thighs. "Please... It- it was only once and..." She took a shaky breath. "I never really s-saw. His hand was in her skirts, and he was close but-" She trailed off, her eyes closed, teeth biting her lips closed, as well. She lookedaway, again, terrified, caught in the venus fly trap.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 03:21:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius saw the perfect opportunity to 'enlighten' her on the topic at hand, and let his body climb up on the underwater seat as he rose to her eye-level, her posture eroded by the lustful pleasure. His voice retained it's playful tone, lusciously thick amidst the hot and sticky air as he spoke. "But..? I bet you imagined it though... Imagined his hand ravaging her maidenhood as she stood there in pleasure. Its fine if you did; It's completely normal to have those kinds of feelings, after all." His arm wrapped around her for support as he took one of her hands while he spoke, slowly guiding it down towards her hips. "But, if you leave those feeling pent up for too long my lady, you'll eventually explode." He gave her a grin as he pulled himself closer, his manhood rigid in her sights, but still comfortably away from her delicate flower. But that was the last thing she must've noticed, as he interlaced his fingers with his, and began to gently guide her hand in with his. He slowly kept the pace as he fingered her tight pussy with a pair of fingers, one of which was not his own. <br><br>"Now, let it all out, and let me show you a world worth living for..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 03:49:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra's eyes blinked open, as he spoke, closer, and she looked again to him, drawn as a moth to the flame. Hr tongue flicked out, to wet her lips, and slowly she nodded. She often thought about the sounds the maid had been making, the way she's arched her back, the grin on the man's face. She'd often felt a heating between her thighs when she did. She asked the cook, once. She'd been replied with a rebuke, and a scolding. 'That stuff is for the marriage bed'. She swallowed, as his hand covered hers, pressing it down her stomach, between her thighs, exploring, as she'd done before, in private baths. But he coaxed her further, urging one of her fingers, long with his to press in, further than she'd ever dared. She gasped, eyes wide as she stared at him, her hand following his, stretched tight. Every breath held a note of pleasure, and she shook from head to toe. She watched him, stunned, as he guided her to pleasure herself, mouth open in awe.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 04:09:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius gave her his gentle smirk as he continued to press deep into her forbidden cavern, each moan eliciting a further push on his behalf, which only contributed to the vicious cycle of lust. He leaned forward, his lips speaking softly directly into her ear, as he continued to instruct her on how to <em>properly</em> pleasure herself. "See? You can feel it now too, as your naughty body squeezes and pulls on our trespassing fingers. Its begging to be filled, and right now, you're just like that maid of yours..." He smirked as his tongue lashed out to lick under her ear as he continued thrusting in and out of her tight pussy, unable to control his pace any longer. It wouldn't be long until he had to take her for himself, but he'd prolong his teasing foreplay for as long as possible. After all, once he had opened her up and taught her the real meaning of ecstasy, he doubted that he'd be able to hold himself back.<br><br>"Tell me Cassandra. Tell me the thoughts that are buzzing through your mind right now. Share with me the begging pleas of your darkest desires, as you violate your body with me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 04:18:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra arched, as his mouth again pressed against her ear, soft tone rife with pleasure. Her hips began to ride their intertwined hands, her finger following his, as he sped the pace, forcing her faster, forcing her mind to blank, the pleasure to grab hold, pulling her in to something she was unprepared for. She writhed, panting, crying out as his tongue teased against her ear, her neck craning, offering her neck to him in a primitive, instinctual offer of submission. "I- I want..." She moaned. "What is happening? Don't stop... I may die..." She whimpered, her hips riding their hands, bucking as she continued ever closer to oblivion. "Marconius, please...." She begged, her voice raw, strained, begging for something, for him to stop, for him never to stop, to tell her what she was so close to. But it was too late. She screamed, arching full off the floor, pressing her body flush against his, head thrown back as she shattered, clamping around their fingers, a surge of liquid flooding her, her mind blanking as she held, suspended on pleasure so tight she forgot to breathe for a moment. <br><br>She shook, panting, as she slumped down against the floor, limp, exhausted for the moment, stunned. She stared blankly above her, not really seeing anything as her mind fought back from wherever it had been sent to.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 04:35:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius let her fall softly against the tiled floor, his arm falling back with a simple satisfaction as he withdrew his sticky fingers. He had shown her the mind-numbing pleasure that simple masturbation could bring, and he was actual curious as to whether she would even be able to handle his manhood. He swiftly moved up to hover over her, his muscular form hanging above her as he gazed down upon her paralyzed body. <br><br>His voice had a hint of satisfied glee in it's tone as it arose once more, and the smooth voice from before was beginning to show signs of raw emotion as the chains that bound Marconius slipped further and further. His stiff member was pulsating as it hung beneath him, aiming for her tender body as he supported himself on the sleek floor. "That was just the foreplay, darling. We haven't even gotten to the main course... But first, tell me how much you want me to take your innocence. Or rather, whatever is left of it." He licked his fingers seductively as he tasted her juices, which were evidence enough of her erotic deeds. Although, the few palace maidens who were listening outside the door were pretty firm evidence as well, but that was not something that Marconius wished to bring up. At least, not just yet...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 04:44:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Slowly, she came back to herself, pulled by his voice. He was close, warm, hard. Her hand lay limp between her thighs, covering herself in a perverted modest pose. After that, how could there be modesty? She breathed heavily, swallowing at his request. "Th- there's more?" She asked, her hand slowly rising to press along his cheek, her fingertips filtering through his hair. She was half in love with him, his gentle insistence, that infuriating tone of his. That smile. "I want you, Marconius," Her voice was a near whisper. "Teach me the rest..." They were already condemned for it. She wanted whatever it was, because he was the only man who had ever vexed her so much, who had ever treated her as a human, he was the only man who had ever dared show her the things only married women, servants and widows should know.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 22:20:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius bent down, giving her a tender kiss after he uttered his answer to her, even though they both knew what was racing through his mind as she softly asked for his body. And so the fun truly began, his body falling slowly as he reached down to position himself. The tip of his throbbing rod pressed teasingly against her tight fold a few times, somewhat for taunting's-sake, and somewhat for her to size him up. He would fill her body completely, and make her his throughout every part of her body. He took her mouth into a deep and lustfully passionate kiss as he pressed into her, his rigid member pressing through her folds at a steady pace. The sensation was euphoric, as her body gave way before him, exploring places that had never been seen before. And only he would see them from now on. He continued, not content until his job was finished, and his lips released a soft grunt as he felt her hips press tightly against his own. His entire length pulsed inside of her, eliciting her own vibrations from her erotic flower, which was now filled to the brim. <br><br>Marconius gazed into her eyes as he pulled back his tightly pressed dick, his voice reassuring and angelic as he spoke. "Cassandra, you're now mine, and it'll need the entire pantheon of the realm to take you from me." He began to pull his body slowly out of her violated pussy, as he whispered something lustfully into her ear, carrying his earlier heavy and sensuous tone. His hips began to tenderly begin their rhythmic motion as he spoke, the words acting like a pushing-off point for the voyage they were about to commence. <br><br>"Now then... Show me how naughty that voice of yours can be."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 22:35:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandras eyes widened, as she felt the hot press, and finally understood. He was going to put it inside of her. Her mouth gasped open, and his descended, taking her mouth, as he pressed in, stretching her uncomfortably, though he slid in with minimal issue. She made a soft noise of discomfort, muscles tensing, as his hips slid home against hers. She stared at him, open mouthed, panting. <em>His</em>. He'd claimed her. She could only nod, before gasping sharply, as he pulled back out, and she felt him press, move against that spot he'd made her finger explore before, the spot they had stroked to shatter her. <br><br>The slow pace made her used to him, and slowly the discomfort left, and her hips began to rise to meet him, as she felt the feelings begin to return fully, leading again toward that shattering ecstasy. She moaned, biting her lips closed, as he demanded her voice, her mouth opening to pant, soft noises escaping her throat. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>09-02-2011, 23:44:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius smirked to himself as she expelled her delectable moans and sighs of passion, the sounds bringing newly released vigor into his thrusts. He began to press harder against her as her hips rolled, his mind regulating his breathing like a true soldier. This was, in a sense, another battlefield after all.<br><br>His arms smoothly reached under her as he kept his erotic stride, and pulled her up to face him, her chest bouncing up and down as her hips now pounded against gravity. He sucked on her delicious nipples as he lifted her for his thrusts, as she rode him like the horse she oh-so detested. He wouldn't pass up an opportunity to tease her either, and his voice came out between suckles and nipples. "Wow... Your breasts are so tender Cassandra... If I had known they were this delightful... I'm not sure I would've been able to hold back..." His thrusting only grew fiercer as the moments passed, and his body edged closer to climax. He planned on using that beautiful chest of hers as a canvas for him to paint on, as well as teach her another thing...<br><br>The taste of a man's freshly poured seed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>10-02-2011, 04:39:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Another gasp as he pulled her up, changing the angle, hitting her spot even better. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her back arching as his mouth descended over her breasts, doubling her sounds, even as he teased her, beyond caring for the moment, as she rode him, using the movements he had taught her only hours ago. She panted, whimpering as his thrusts increased, her nails biting into his back as she writhed, her hair sticking between them, brushing their chests as she moaned.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>10-02-2011, 23:39:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius let his body continue to ravage his companion as his breathing became hoarse, her body sliding up and down the entirety of his length. He felt his body press against the edge of her limits, as he grew closer and closer to orgasm. His body was throbbing with a tangible passion as he held her tightly against him, her perky nipples pressing firmly against his chest. As he felt his body on the verge of climax, he swiftly withdrew his firm dick from her tight body. He let her gently fall on her knees as he rose before her, his masculine aura dominating the room as he held his member in his hand and let it release his seed all over Cassandra's lustful face. He let out soft groans as his hot and sticky juices fell on her hot flesh, and conducted the energy to give her a smirk as he gazed down at her. <br><br><em>One round done...</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>10-02-2011, 23:50:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra yelped, as he pulled out, standing, and groaning, as something white spurt from the end of his member, hitting her across the face and chest. She gaped, panting, feeling somehow empty, so close she was to from oblivion. She stared, before slowly raising a hand to her face, wiping some of it from her face. "Wh-what?" She whispered, staring at the white liquid.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Nero Czan</strong> on <strong>11-02-2011, 03:41:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Marconius chuckled down at her as he took a knee, his body needing a moment's break to recover. He flashed his usual smirk as he spoke, his voice like that of a teacher who was more than knowledgeable in his subject. "Go ahead, try some. Some women like drinking it. That's the proof of our bond together, proof of our... Love..." The word was an awkward one to him, and it almost got stuck in his throat as he went to say it. However, he let it out, and simply smiled down to her confused and curious expression. Regardless, she was one hell of a sight, and he could already feel his body stiffening up once more as his eyes walked around her cum-stained body. Her breasts glittered in the subtle and diffused light, as his cum meticulously dripped down. He watched her with a gentle expression as he gazed into her eyes, and watched her juicy lips. Already he was imagining their touch once more, and it would not be long before he lost himself...<br><br>Suffice it to say, the second round would not be as gentle. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Spoils of War (Nero and Subtle)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Subtle Trouble</strong> on <strong>27-02-2011, 17:09:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Cassandra's eyes flicked away as he uttered the word 'love'. It was a dangerous one, one she couldn't commit to. Instead, she looked at the viscous, white substance slowly sliding down her fingers. Slowly, she brought them close, the blush high on her cheeks nearly permanent, and bent her head, her tongue flicking out to taste it. She blinked, surprised, at the taste. A little bitter, salty, but not bad. She swallowed, before looking back up at him, unsure of what to do, her breathing slowly evening, the ache in her lower belly still demanding satisfaction. She wanted him to break against her again, shatter the world as he had before. She wanted to hear that teasing voice, demanding she do things, explaining. Teaching her.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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