Post by sofakingqueer on May 9, 2011 1:23:03 GMT -8
"There, you look wonderful," Decima smiled, caressing her blind brother's cheek as she finished braiding the last piece of golden thread into his thick chocolate ringlets. Octavius smiled and kissed his sister's palm as he adjusted his elegant, elaborately draped toga. It accentuated every small part of his body, showing the beautiful olive, unblemished skin, completely untouched. Decima was draped in similar attire, the two looking every bit the twins they were, Decima standing just a couple inches taller than her brother and much fuller in body, the beautiful, dramatic curves of her hips and breasts accentuated by the scanty toga. There was a reason she'd managed to sleep with every male, and many of the females, she had ever desired.
The twins left their chamber, arm in arm, a finely carved cane in Octavius' right hand. The large, open hallways of their family abode were always intimidating. Open spaces were dangerous for Octavius. When he couldn't feel, when he couldn't hear anything around him he felt lost. He preferred to move like a mouse, hugging the walls, touching furniture, people, clinging to his sister's guiding hand. But soon enough they left the cavernous hallways and joined the rest of his family, waiting by their royal carriages. Caesar, his wife, and Quintus climbed into one carriage, while Decima and Octavius were joined by Hadriana in another. It was to be a long day at the games as dozens of gladiatorial battles were fought, exotic animals brought in, chariots raced. A grand affair, marking the anniversary of Roman rule. And afterwards there was to be a banquet with all of the victors and stars of the bloodsport.
Another event Octavius dreaded, simply for the difficulty in meeting hundreds of new people he couldn't see, knowing them only by voice, unable to truly see them.
It was well into the hot, sticky day. Octavius and his sister sat in their family's box, shaded by a canopy and fanned by slaves. Octavius leaned against his sister's shoulder, her arm draped around his shoulders. They were out of view of the general public, meaning Octavius could act as he pleased. Decima smiled, carding her fingers through her brother's ringlets as she described the game below them. "It's Leander and Acilius now. They've just come through the gates. Acilius is on horseback, Leander without. Acilius rides with great skill, but the horse is shy of Leander. Acilius is nervous, but Leander is calm and collected. The horse is dancing, Acilius indecisive. He can't decide how to best attack Leander. But Leander's body is solid in the middle of the arena, his body strong, muscles tight as he holds his sword and shield." Octavius could see it very clearly in his mind's eye, the details being filled in as his sister proceeded to describe the even tin terms that Octavius would understand. Nothing visual, no colours, no light, no aesthetic embellishments.
Well, almost none.
Octavius was aware of the fact his sister had made a point of sleeping with the most famous of gladiators since she was barely fifteen. It was a rite of passage amongst them, if you will. Leander was her latest fixation, the gladiator she'd yet to bed. She described him in great detail, his muscular body, his armour, his movements. Having grown quite good at this throughout her lifetime Decima narrated the fight perfectly, murmuring quietly into her brother's delicate, sensitive ear. When the match was over and Leander declared victorious, the family clapped and stood. Octavius and his sisters slipped out first, his tall, graceful siblings on either side of him, an arm around his waist, guiding him down the stairs towards their carriage. The games had ended for the day, but it would be time for the banquet soon, which would be much more exhausting than sitting in a tent for several hours and having his sister whisper gently in his ear above the roar of crowds and screaming of swords.
The twins left their chamber, arm in arm, a finely carved cane in Octavius' right hand. The large, open hallways of their family abode were always intimidating. Open spaces were dangerous for Octavius. When he couldn't feel, when he couldn't hear anything around him he felt lost. He preferred to move like a mouse, hugging the walls, touching furniture, people, clinging to his sister's guiding hand. But soon enough they left the cavernous hallways and joined the rest of his family, waiting by their royal carriages. Caesar, his wife, and Quintus climbed into one carriage, while Decima and Octavius were joined by Hadriana in another. It was to be a long day at the games as dozens of gladiatorial battles were fought, exotic animals brought in, chariots raced. A grand affair, marking the anniversary of Roman rule. And afterwards there was to be a banquet with all of the victors and stars of the bloodsport.
Another event Octavius dreaded, simply for the difficulty in meeting hundreds of new people he couldn't see, knowing them only by voice, unable to truly see them.
It was well into the hot, sticky day. Octavius and his sister sat in their family's box, shaded by a canopy and fanned by slaves. Octavius leaned against his sister's shoulder, her arm draped around his shoulders. They were out of view of the general public, meaning Octavius could act as he pleased. Decima smiled, carding her fingers through her brother's ringlets as she described the game below them. "It's Leander and Acilius now. They've just come through the gates. Acilius is on horseback, Leander without. Acilius rides with great skill, but the horse is shy of Leander. Acilius is nervous, but Leander is calm and collected. The horse is dancing, Acilius indecisive. He can't decide how to best attack Leander. But Leander's body is solid in the middle of the arena, his body strong, muscles tight as he holds his sword and shield." Octavius could see it very clearly in his mind's eye, the details being filled in as his sister proceeded to describe the even tin terms that Octavius would understand. Nothing visual, no colours, no light, no aesthetic embellishments.
Well, almost none.
Octavius was aware of the fact his sister had made a point of sleeping with the most famous of gladiators since she was barely fifteen. It was a rite of passage amongst them, if you will. Leander was her latest fixation, the gladiator she'd yet to bed. She described him in great detail, his muscular body, his armour, his movements. Having grown quite good at this throughout her lifetime Decima narrated the fight perfectly, murmuring quietly into her brother's delicate, sensitive ear. When the match was over and Leander declared victorious, the family clapped and stood. Octavius and his sisters slipped out first, his tall, graceful siblings on either side of him, an arm around his waist, guiding him down the stairs towards their carriage. The games had ended for the day, but it would be time for the banquet soon, which would be much more exhausting than sitting in a tent for several hours and having his sister whisper gently in his ear above the roar of crowds and screaming of swords.