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@adamoromerof
a starter for @howlforahookup,
“You didn’t want to fight this year?” That was a curious thing to learn as the sheets had been posted, the participants finalized; he’d done so last year but perhaps Damian had felt shadowed by Elena’s legacy for too long. Even a lycan who’d lived under the ideal of their former Alpha parent could deviate from what was to be expected of them, but Adamo ever the internal philosopher had to scrutinize as to why.
a starter for @pelcrus,
“I hope you don’t think less of me as a warrior now,” Serkan had easily defeated Adamo, but as a former alpha it seemed only telling of Serkan’s reserved strengths; it’d only been a year or so since he’d been dismantled and the Arno dissolved. The Cold was merely proud, as the token advisor of the Lupo, that Serkan still garnered this wanton to become Alpha once more; there was nothing worse than an alpha who’d lost their spirits over a Lupercalia match soured. Adamo’s teasing was mellow as Pelorus approached, there’d been more of a reason to fight to the bitter end once he’d noticed Lia and Pelorus within the crowd of spectators but it still hadn’t been enough to prevail.
For: @adamoromerof
Where?: Lupercalia, near the fighting rings
“Looks like this old dog still has some fight in him,” Lycaon teased, lightly punching Adamo in the shoulder. The opening roster for the alpha gauntlet had been posted, some of the names on the list honestly catching the original lycan by surprise. He made a displeased face when he saw Remus on the list, perhaps he would have to step in to ensure that the imposter did not steal what rightfully belonged to his people. "Do you think you can make it to the final round?" The fact that Adamo was competing against all these young lycans, volatiles and draegloths among them, was no small feat and certainly impressed the Aspect.
Adamo was so often counted out; proclaimed as an old dog that had lost its normal vigor when the truth was the Cold had often been perceived simply as more benevolent than the rest. Violence was something inherent amongst lycans, and though he’d stood proud as the former warden of the Senate prison’s his bark had often been worse than his genuine bite; fighting within Lupercalia was really the only time many saw the strengths within him that still remained. “I’ve been a voice for them when Elena couldn’t but that’s not always enough,” Adamo never made empty promises; though he was in the presence of Lycaon he’d not embellish his strengths when so many others competing were fierce competitors, it made the outlook unclear. “I’d like to believe I’d be one of the last few standing.”
"You dreamed of me?" "No, I thought of you."
@springlia & @adamoromerof
MAYANS MC 4.06: “When I Die, I Want Your Hands on my Eyes” Danny Pino as Miguel Galindo
MAYANS M.C. (2018 - 2023) Danny Pino as Miguel Galindo and Clayton Cardenas as Angel Reyes Season 5, Episode 5: I Want Nothing but Death
"Huh? Nah, I'm gonna be fighting." Alek said as he bounced on his feet and took a stance; he flicked his knuckles towards Adamo's chest good-naturedly. "Yeah, I'll be there, free food and good times. I wanted Serkan to fight with me in the coliseum but he said he had plans already." Alek made a lewd gesture with his hand to his mouth as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. The former alpha was happier now than he'd ever been. Maybe Sanem had cut the unhappy part of his brain out, or maybe at some point, Alek had found what he was looking for. All that blood was still on his hands, caked like mud under his nails; he'd scrub, and he'd scrub, but they'd never come clean. That was something he'd just live with, though; these lunatics actually listened to him when he said he wanted to burn the city down. "You going to fight? I think you'd make a good alpha."
"And that's.... wise after brain surgery?" He was being slightly facetious, lycans were noted for their durability and swift ability to heal, but this seemed to be Alek playing with fire again. Adamo snorted, the pack was keen to tease and torment Serkan until the former Arno alpha was rolling in his grave, surely, but the Cold merely nodded in finality, "I see. I'll be fighting for it, yes." There was a small smile; where once the Cold was meant to return to Latvia and be primed for his father's pack as Alpha, Adamo could see no reason to return; the Tiber, the Lupo, they were his family now and in such crucial time they needed him the most. "Personally I feel you'd say that to just anyone with the gusto willing to replace you, but I appreciate it."
Semantics really. Pelorus didn't really care about the specifics of what Adamo's job entailed. All he actually cared about was making a comment about it if he needed to. As much as he would've loved to do more than just have a conversation with this lycan every time they saw each other, he also knew when things weren't in his favor. However, that didn't mean he wasn't going to still flirt. It was just in the spartoi's nature. Personalities and all that. Plus, it wasn't like Adamo had told him to fuck off yet. No, the lycan was still very much sitting here with him, bottle of alcohol in hand and a smile on his face. Pelorus certainly wasn't trying to wear the other down about this, but it was fairly interesting to him how Adamo was always rejecting him and still coming back for more. It said something that the demigod wouldn't say out loud just yet. The thought was there though. Right at the tip of his tongue. "Ah, so you love enforcing the law. Getting the bad guys to fall in line really gets you going, huh?" He snatched the bottle back. "There's another fantasy right there. I don't know about getting me to fall in line, but I can be a bad guy if you want."
"You know, you always turn everything back around to that," Adamo shook his head, almost feigning this rigidly curt demeanor, as the bottle was snatched back by Pelorus. "I don't know how you've managed to perfect being completely respectful and completely dissolute," constantly tongue-in-cheek the spartoi had been and Adamo fell into the trivial ruse each time; the Cold playing along further this time around. It would be wrong to say the other whittled him down, Adamo hung around the spartoi merely because he was curious, invested in where this could truly go and he didn't need the other to be so obviously persistent for the lycan to feel such way. That was just a comical bonus. "I don't think it'd be very convincing, I thought you were supposed to be the good guys," a spartoi was a warrior, that was really all Adamo understood of them, otherworldly vessels with elven and draconic blood. Their part in history, however, was not something he intimately understood.
❇💎❇
"Great friends? Did he say that? Interesting ... I understand the situation now. Seems he's ... sampling the local cuisine." Pelorus did always love to indulge himself. Hyperenor had met many of his brother's "great friends" in the old days. It didn't surprise him one bit that he'd resume his games in this era. "No, I imagine he won't, not if he's already distracting himself," he responded, studying the lycan very closely. Normally, he could count on Pelorus' inaction no matter what happened, but he didn't know his brother as a part of the Senate. Hyperenor figured there was no harm in covering his bases by ensuring Pelorus had plenty to keep him occupied besides what his brothers were doing. "You speak as if you don't want to be his friend. What's wrong with my brother? Do you not like his company?"
"I didn't say that," Adamo shrugged somewhat, "We come from different worlds, is all, I would say the same of you," warriors, sure, but Pelorus seemed to constantly go after a lap of luxury suitable for a King; it wasn't synonymous with the Cold, at all. Despite his words, Adamo constantly sought out the other spartoi, which was telling enough of how actions betrayed words. "I'm someone whose been stuck in their own little box for a very long time, a man of routine. Your brother just seems keen to go against the grain; any grain if it'd piss off enough people." Aloof, careless, Adamo still managed to speak fondly despite words that may have been deemed borderline insulting.
who?: @serkanxulusoy | @adamoromerof | @floratitus | @romeoverga | @hearthstonc where?: the meeting house
^*^
"Call me crazy, but is it really necessary to come up with so many defensive strategies? I mean, don't get me wrong I could toss up vicious trap wards all around the city, but should I? Time is money, baby." Almost immediately, Alder throws up his hands and laughs boisterously. "Kidding! I like helping out around Lupercal. I'm just saying, magic is great and all, but no number of magical defenses can make a lycan population feel secure, even I know that much. And more people are moving here every day. From the sounds of it, we might see another boom after Lupercalia." Even when he sounded reasonable, Alder was playing an angle. From now until the end of the massive lycan pilgrimage, he'd have a closely trained eye on each member of the Lupo council. "Don't need to tell you that I'm sure. The next alpha will have a huge opening to fill. Any thoughts about that? They'd have to be well respected and knowledgable about the pack's history in Rome, right?"
"We were once gifted the aid of the elves, it suited us well," the changelings, the fog, the boundary; all had felt necessary under the Harbinger who wrought so much attention upon the Lupo. He'd done plenty good, an admirable feat for somebody who had been so violently transitioned to this world, but his violence also led them to being under consistent scrutiny from the Senate and the Eye. "It's not about them feeling secure, you're right about that being an impossibility," a small shake of his head which garners a pause, "But there are plenty we'd rather keep out." Adamo turned to face Alder completely, "It seems you're very invested in who will be stepping up to the plate."
MAYANS MC 5.05 – I Want Nothing but Death
a starter for @alekgray,
"You seem... happier," Adamo wasn't sure what to expect since Alek had abdicated from the Alpha position, it wasn't something that typically happened; normally one was overthrown or suffered a terrible demise, most didn't just jump ship. The Cold had put together the context clues, and though he peered around the cabin Alek was situated in with light disdain, it was obviously wildly unkempt, his former alpha did seem as though a substantial weight was lifted off his shoulders. "Are you going to show up to see who picks up the mantle next?" A teasing inquiry, Adamo smiled softly; he'd believed in Alek's abilities to hold onto the title but he hadn't taken several steps back to realize that just because he could doesn't mean one should.
It had always been important to the noble spring fey to seek first to understand instead of condemn but she was far from perfection and she even let the troubles of reputation and bitterness blot out the light of the sun until what surrounded her was shadow, still she couldn't help the secret thought that Adamo stood apart from the wild wolves, a handsome man with a proud stature and a certain refined elegance that reminded her of the black and white films that the mortals use to watch. "It feels strange to be in a leading position, I've felt alien from my people for so long but with Titania's sacrifice comes forgiveness and the ability to lose some of the pain I've carried for so long. Do you feel at peace with the changes within your pack? They are a honored bunch to have you on council." She has held bitterness tight for so long, she tries to not allow the binding of her true high elf form to cause resentment to a soul who has been lost to the wind.
"Some people are naturally leaders, it will come to you," a light affirmation that hopefully made the entire process feel all the less overwhelming to her. The Cold was a leader in his own right, not by example but by mere principle; a marshal for the lycans once before, the warden over the Senate's violent criminals. Adamo's mind had to be sharp, attuned to the ridiculous fallacies of politics and as a, once young, lycan he learned swiftly. Lia was apt to find her niche, she seemed a chameleon; always evolving to whatever life tossed her way, a formidable elf. Adamo shrugged, the answer to her question a complicated thing to encapsulate, "There were far too many changes this year, but we're coping," Adamo walked along, presuming Lia would fall in stride, "It sounds like you might feel the same way when it comes to these changes." A pause as his own leadership conflicts came to light, "There's a tournament for alpha, it comes along every year. I've.. abstained from it in the past, felt others were better fit to serve but, I wonder now if it's time for me to genuinely put my foot in the ring." With all the lycans who had crept forth due to Lycaon's beacon, Lupercal had been a wild card rife with duplicitous lycans and strangers.
"Well, it's definitely a start." Otsana breathed heavily out her nose, then took another deep breath in. "There's no secrets, Adamo." She shrugged, eyes downcast as they walked. "I killed people, faces I don't remember, some that I do. Screaming, lots of screaming. A complete lack of control." They glanced at their packmate, "I tore my own body apart. Like I could rip myself out of a costume, if I just dug deep enough. Just had to find the zipper."
Otsana was someone he learned to carefully navigate around, they were a bleeding heart if nurtured correctly and a reliable friend. Despite their inability to always be forthcoming about what bothered them, she was often an avid listener whenever Adamo needed it; he would always reciprocate if needed. "Death is a bit of who we are," it falls flat because Otsana doesn't need an excuse for their actions currently, they're grieving what they'd done, grieving the autopilot that took over as she tore through innocent lives, other monsters, and shifted continuously. Death had been a blessing for the Cold and the others who hadn't survived the explosion and his grief resonated, palpable between them as he pondered on what Otsana endured. "What you did to survive isn't who you are, Otsana," but it didn't make it any easier to stomach.
Miguel Galindo // S02E05 Xquic
Requested by anon
It seemed Pelorus was only a stressor in people's lives lately. His brothers and now Adamo. Actually, he was pretty sure the lycan was always stressed around him. The spartoi had offered to help him destress often though so really it was the other's fault if he kept on being stressed. "You know, I've told you before I could help with that, but you seem to like your constant state of stress." Eventually, he'd accept he'd been rejected, but that clearly wasn't happening right now. Maybe they'd fuck and he'd get over it, too. The former seemed more possible than the latter though. Given how Adamo was always acting around him, he was sure that the two of them would simply be ships passing in the night. Nothing would come of these little interactions and the two of them would just see each other at this little forum when it was needed. How tragic that would be. Still, he smiled as the bottle was snatched from his hand, his gaze falling to the other's lips as it wrapped around the bottle. Interesting. "I refuse to be stressed. If I don't stay cool and calm, I'll end up raining blood on this entire forum and then you'd have to slap some restraints on me." A brow raised. "Maybe I should do that though, huh?"
Adamo drank but as the bottle was lowered from his lips, he kept it in his possession, smirking as Pelorus always revolved around one charged act. Always thinking with one head and never with the other, he seemed to be either about carnal relief or bloodshed; nothing Adamo hadn't dealt with after being surrounded by lycans for the entirety of his life. "Funny," a pause as the Cold took another swig before extending the bottle back to Pelorus, "I never made the arrests, I only played bodyguard. You'll have to find another fantasy to lament on." The smirk grew in size, he did often find himself smiling whenever the spartoi was around but perhaps the Cold had come to enjoy this game of chase that the other seemed adamant to cash in upon.
who?: @adamoromerof where?: the streets, no sprinklers to run through in lupercal?
❇💎❇
"Oh, I see. The mistake was mine, but it makes sense now." Imagine Hyperenor's surprise to sense an inkling of his brother's lingering presence in the most unlikeliest of places. The guy looked stiff but seemed harmless enough. He couldn't imagine why Pelorus would want to play his games with such a tight ass, but it wasn't Hyperenor's place to speculate (though he did have a few ideas). At least now he knew, so he could utilize the residual Pelorus floating around the lycan to his advantage. "If my brother is engaging in his usual exploits then that's one less brother I have to worry about crossing paths with as I work. How often would you say the one named Pelorus seeks out your company?"
Adamo nodded his head, somewhat sorely amused that these spartoi were clearly more than a little off after their thousands of years of slumber, the thousands of years where they'd spent surrounded by baneful violence supporting that, too. He couldn't fault Pelorus, the man seemed stuck in a perpetual, borderline, viking haze; this one seemed more put together on the outside but as soon as they spoke Adamo could only chuckle. "He's persistent, he thinks we'll be great friends," the Cold obviously thought he was being hilarious now. "I don't think he'll interfere with your work," this spartoi was highly suspicious and abhorrently vague.
