C. Sempronius Gracchus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ad_dicendum) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-01-05 10:43 pm
ad_dicendum) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-01-05 10:43 pm
† monstra evenerunt mihi
WHO: Gaius Gracchus
WHERE: Outside the Inn
WHEN: During the aurora event, around Jan 6
OPEN TO: Anyone willing to try talking to the guy who knows barely any English
WARNINGS: Slightly squicky injury reference
STATUS: OPEN
The gods are speaking.
It is hard to look at the sky at night and not think that. Gaius has never been a man to let omens stand in the way, but twice now, he and his brother had continued their work under ill-favored birds, and it had ended badly for them. Tiberius, he's been told, had split his toe crossing the threshold as he set out for the forum on the day he'd been killed. And the omens in Junonia had been nothing but bad, wolves stealing the boundary markers, winds breaking the standards and scattering the sacrifices, and he's been wondering ever since his return to Rome if those omens weren't for the colony, but for him. Nothing had gone right for him since Junonia. He'd lost his support, he'd lost the elections (or had them rigged against him) and he'd found his enemy elected to the consulship.
And now here the skies are afire at night, blazing in greens and blues and colors he's never known the night sky could have. It can surely bode no good to this strange village he's found himself in that the gods have set their aethereal flame every night for more than a week now. It can bode no good, but that hasn't stopped Gaius from going out to stare up into the dancing light and wonder at it. Wonder, and marvel, too, for all his fear.
"O, Iuppiter," he murmurs, the start of some half-formed evocation to the sky god, king of the gods of Rome: tonight, the skies are brighter than ever.
He's wrapped up in his coat, but the Roman is standing in the middle of the path that runs past the inn and paying no attention to the weather, or to anyone who may approach: instead, he's entirely absorbed in the sky.
WHERE: Outside the Inn
WHEN: During the aurora event, around Jan 6
OPEN TO: Anyone willing to try talking to the guy who knows barely any English
WARNINGS: Slightly squicky injury reference
STATUS: OPEN
The gods are speaking.
It is hard to look at the sky at night and not think that. Gaius has never been a man to let omens stand in the way, but twice now, he and his brother had continued their work under ill-favored birds, and it had ended badly for them. Tiberius, he's been told, had split his toe crossing the threshold as he set out for the forum on the day he'd been killed. And the omens in Junonia had been nothing but bad, wolves stealing the boundary markers, winds breaking the standards and scattering the sacrifices, and he's been wondering ever since his return to Rome if those omens weren't for the colony, but for him. Nothing had gone right for him since Junonia. He'd lost his support, he'd lost the elections (or had them rigged against him) and he'd found his enemy elected to the consulship.
And now here the skies are afire at night, blazing in greens and blues and colors he's never known the night sky could have. It can surely bode no good to this strange village he's found himself in that the gods have set their aethereal flame every night for more than a week now. It can bode no good, but that hasn't stopped Gaius from going out to stare up into the dancing light and wonder at it. Wonder, and marvel, too, for all his fear.
"O, Iuppiter," he murmurs, the start of some half-formed evocation to the sky god, king of the gods of Rome: tonight, the skies are brighter than ever.
He's wrapped up in his coat, but the Roman is standing in the middle of the path that runs past the inn and paying no attention to the weather, or to anyone who may approach: instead, he's entirely absorbed in the sky.