Featuring: Andreas, Carolus, and Ludovicus
Date: June 10, 2004
IC Date: January 16, 3930
Summary: Three members of the Empyrean House Fortuna meet to discuss future plans for the family, including a possible marriage to a commoner?
Peristyle - House Fortuna - Parnassus
The interior of House Fortuna's decadent villa is multi-tiered and open-aired. The only walls are those that separate the villa from the outside world. Colonnades of majestic white marble hold the many floors and roofs aloft. Caryatid columns divide the area into doorless chambers forming airy, interconnected suites overlooking the garden. At either end of the space are two seating areas defined by wispy silk curtains, luxuriously cushioned couches and low tables. Sweetly scented braziers keep the area lit and warm.Above, blooming vines of languorously scented flowers grow rampantly up the side of the villa, curtaining several of the upper floor balconies in fragrant privacy. The exotic gardens are well manicured - blankets of ornamental grasses, leafy shrubs, thick bushes and groves of flowers arranged in decorative arrays and inventive patterns.
In the center of the peristyle is a rectangular pool reflecting the sky above in its smooth, glass-like surface on which blooming lotus flowers drift in fragrant serenity. In the middle of the pool is a sculpted fountain of several entwined, tastefully nude, Empyrean figures. Beneath the fountain, jeweled fish spend lazy days the sun. Behind the encompassing colonnade, a paved walk circles the peristyle, decorated with murals and mosaics, offset with statues, and interrupted with doors that lead into different areas of the domus.
With the weather being what it is, a heavy canvas roof has been drawn over the entire area, providing a temporary roof to protect the house occupants and gardens from the elements.
*---------------------------< In Character Time>--------------------------*
Time of day: Night (Dawnside)
Date on Aether: Tuesday, January 16, 3930
Year on Earth: 1530 A.D.
Phase of the Moon: Waxing Crescent
Season: Winter
Weather: Clear Skies
Temperature: Chilly
*--------------------------------------------------------------------------*
Rumors. One of House Fortuna's favorite currencies. Buying, selling, creating, all of the above. But as rumors are difficult to control, the Fortuna family is a subject as well as a dealer. Some say the Vilicus is as lazy as he is fat, content to wallow about on couches, sampling food and flesh in equal measures. Some say he's simply too large to move. But there are those few that whisper he is tireless, needing little sleep and constantly on the lookout for an advantage or a weakness in his enemies. Ludovicus seems to be lending support to the latter on this early, early morning, with Apollo's chariot only just above the eastern horizon. Dressed in Fortuna finery, he waddles through the halls of the estate, a trusted scribe at his side. Whatever instructions he dictates to the man, they aren't overheard, spoken in a low voice.
Enter the Vilicus' younger brother, an equal subject of rumour and scandal, which many, no doubt, would claim he actively encourages. Early morning it may be for Ludovicus, but it appears to be late night for Andreas, voice raised in cheerful and mostly unslurred song as he enters, a touch dishevelled, and, no doubt, less than sober.
At least, one would assume so.
The scribe, with an admirable dedication to duty, keeps his head bowed over his writing despite the "singing". Ludovicus, however, holds out a hand to stop the man from continuing. The Vilicus says a couple of quiet words to him, and the scribe disappears back toward the chambers and offices. "Ave, brother," he says in a curiously soft voice that nonetheless carries in the relatively empty peristyle. "I hardly recognize you. You seem happy." To punctuate his words, he smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes.
Ah. Good morning, brother dear." Andreas ambles over, snagging a cup as he does and making his way via a jig of wine. "Working hard, as usual? You should try enjoying yourself sometimes: it's good for you."
Ludovicus laughs, a rumbling sound that has difficulty working its way out of the depths of his chest. "Be careful, Andreas. I have a reputation I've spent many years cultivating that I do nothing _but_ enjoy myself." He glances down at the jug. The good humor, real or feigned, disappears. "You should try working sometimes. It's better for you."
Andreas just smiles, and toasts the Vilicus with his cup. Carelessly, "So we do have something in common, then." A sip at the wine. "Except that your attempt at a reputation is clearly less convincing to me, than mine is to you."
"The House knows the truth of my reputation." Ludovicus rubs at one flabby cheek with a slab-like hand. "And until recently, I'd have thought we knew yours as well. I've been searching my memory, and it seems to me I can count the times I've seen you with a cup of wine on one hand."
Laughter. "Now I *know* you spend too much time working, brother dear." He settles himself astride one of the few chairs with backs in the room, arms along its back, cup dangling idly from one hand. "Perhaps if you got out more, you could ask any number of my collection of wantons, wastrels, dissolutes and other carousing companions what I usually drink. And if any of them claim it's ambrosia, have their tongues cut out."
"I may have their tongues cut out anyway," the Vilicus muses. "You seem to be sober less and less often of late, Andreas. Anything in particular on your mind?" He doesn't sit, but he does sort of ooze his way over to lean some of his bulk against a table. It creaks a protest.
Andreas arches an amused eyebrow. "You." Each word enunciated very precisely. "Are. Accusing. Me. Of. Being. Drunk?"
"Andreas, I don't need to accuse you of anything." Ludovicus sniffs at the air. "There are mongrels in the slave pens getting drunk from your breath alone. You're drunk so often we're going to end up in debt to Acesius for wiping out their suppliers."
At that, Andreas burst out laughing, mock-toasts his brother with the cup, tips the remainder of the wine down his throat, and tosses the goblet at the nearest fireplace, where it lands with a tinking crash and a flicker of blue flame. "My *dear* dear brother. I really *do* think you need to get out more." Still chuckling. "Suffice it to say that that was the first cup of wine that passed my lips in its entirety since sunset. And I am nowhere near as much under the influence of the wine I may have carelessly spilled on my shirt as I would like you or anyone else to think."
Entering on those words, Carolus gives Andreas an unpleasant look. Since most of his looks are unpleasant, it is unclear what effect this is supposed to have. "Indeed, Andreas, it is often of benefit to have others think you drunker than you are, but I fail to see the benefit if you go telling everyone." Adjusting the scroll under his arm, he adds, "And I must agree with the Vilicus. The stench from your clothes alone is likely enough to ward off sobriety."
One can almost hear Ludovicus gritting his teeth. Carolus's entrance saves him the effort of going into full-on bellow mode, but it's clear that the Vilicus would like to anyway. "Very well, Andreas. Since you insist you're sober, I'll deal with you as such. Tell me about the Domina Zethinius. Cleo, I believe she goes as." A pause. "And I'm perfectly willing to chain you up and give you to Carolus to use for his entertainment if I don't like your answers."
Andreas snorts. "Tell you *what* about the Domina Zethinius, brother mine?" He rests his chin on his arms on the back of the chair. "She's a stuck up little brat who thinks that her father's money will buy her almost anything she wants, and the intimation one might get inside her chimere will get her the rest. An intimation, I hasten to add, I suspect she has no intention of fulfulling." He straightens. "To be blunt? I have slightly more interest in Carolus. Purely from the academic point of view of determining exactly *how* snakes fuck."
Carolus makes a tcha noise from between his teeth, though his expression otherwise doesn't change. "Careful, Andreas. I can almost guarantee that having your curiosity fulfilled will not be an experience you will treasure." Hanging in the air is an implicit, "if you survive it." Turning to Ludovicus, he asks. "May I inquire as to what our interest in the oh-so-estimable Domina Zethinius is?"
"That's what I'm trying to determine," replies Ludovicus. He continues speaking to Carolus. "The Domina seems to have some interest in my brother, and I'm trying to determine whether she should come down with a tragic case of the dead or find herself married to Andreas." Now he turns to Andreas once more. "Do you have any suggestions in that regard?"
"I shall immediately devote myself to determining which is the tragedy, Vilicus." The corners of Carolus mouth turn up.
"'A tragic case of the dead...'" Andreas is quite a savage mimic when she wants to be. "I think that would be excessively melodramatic, my polysarcous silbling." He pushes the chair away and stands, making his way over to where he can find a fresh cup to fill with iced wine. "By all means then, marry her off to me. I'm sure it will be most amusing for everyone concerned."
"I'll meet with her myself, then," says Ludovicus. "She's a lovely girl. I'm sure the two of you will be quite happy together. I'm always looking for an excuse to throw another party, and a wedding's as good an excuse as any." His tone turns dry. "A shame Mother isn't alive to see it. She so desperately wanted to see her children happily married off."
Dry laughter, and another mock toast. "If you can persuade her, brother mine, then you are worth your weight in gold to the diplomats of this world. Even though it will undoubtedly bankrupt them just meeting the price." Andreas snorts. "I shall amuse myself greatly watching Domina Cleopatra wriggle out of this. I suspect it will be worth that amount to *her* to avoid it."
"Should I begin the preparations, then, Vilicus?" Carolus asks. "A proper wedding will require months of planning. Simply acquiring the victims--, er participants of the entertainments will take months." Regarding Andreas, he says. "It should not provide difficult. Everyone has their lever, and finding the right one for the Domina will be, as you say, entertaining for all concerned."
"I know I'll be entertained. The Domina Zethinius is nothing if not attractive, and I have plenty of uses for attractive women." Ludovicus adds to his steward, "As do you. If the conventional methods of coercion fail, well... there are always other ways." One might think the prospect would please him, but there's no evidence that anything about this conversation has brought a flicker of joy to the Vilicus. "Do you have any requests for your wedding, Andreas?"
Andreas tosses off the second cup of wine. "If you succeed, which I doubt..." He sets the cup down. "Enough of this excellent iced wine to dull the considerable pain." A pause. "Oh, and some rope and a gag."
Carolus gives Andreas what would be an arch look on a more pleasant face. "Andreas, I had no idea." To Ludovicus, he adds, "Shall I begin gathering information on the Domina to see what levers can be pulled? I will," he pauses, making his conclusion obvious, "of course, leave direct negotiation to you."
Ludovicus nods to Carolus. "You are the acknowledged master of lever pulling. Please work on it." He releases a sigh. "Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, there are other, less pleasant matters to attend to than my brother's impending nuptials."
Andreas laughs. "I believe the Mongrels have a proverb about not counting one's chickens - or in this case, cackling hens - until they are hatched." A nod to Ludovicus "I shall not hold my breath, /frater meus/: I'm sure my demise from asphyxiation would amuse some of the present company, but I'm in no hurry to satisfy them." Blue eyes turn to Carolus. "I wish you joy of the quest for information. I'm sure the prattling of Domina Zethinius and her circle of harpies will haunt your dreams for days." Back to Ludovicus. "Is that all, or have I more scolding in store?"
"Go sleep off your wine, Andreas." Ludovicus stands. "And work on your
singing. You've no right to call anyone else a harpy."
