The Glory of Maecenas

Centurion of the Third Cohort; Son of Bacchus; Legacy of Apollo; Proudly Anti-Graecus. Pater of the House Maecenas.

[madsonofbacchus]

Fuming Frustration

[madsonofbacchus]

discordandglory‌:

“If you go in there determined to find faults with something then it doesn’t really seem like they stand a chance,” Cat replied with a shrug. Traditional did not mean better. In fact in so many of her experiences it meant the exact opposite. For example, the traditional thing to do was to curse your enemies, however when the cult had tried that then it hadn’t gone very well. 

“Besides, surely you remember what it was like to have to constantly look over your shoulder for some minor infraction that you didn’t even realise was a thing.” She smirked gently. “I’m not saying forgive them, I’m just saying don’t make it so easy.”

“I am determined to find faults where they exist, not to invent faults out of thin air.” He pointed out as she commented on the people they were inspecting not standing a chance. Tradition was a powerful motivator for Bran - though if she were to have voiced her thoughts on the ... rather spectacular failure of the curses, he would have been forced to agree with her.

“I don’t, actually.” He replied at her smirked comment about being paranoid regarding infractions. “It has always paid to know the right people. Particularly someone who volunteered for inspection duty.” A slight smirk played on his lips as he thought back to whenever Octavian had been on inspection. Bran could have been entirely out of uniform and asleep at his post and would have gotten a free pass from the Augur. Gods, they could have used his leadership now. “It’s far easier on their part if they actually do as they’re told.” He pointed out simply to Cat.

[madsonofbacchus]

Fuming Frustration

[madsonofbacchus]

martiemcfliest‌:

She smirked,“I didn’t know you liked being called ‘sir’, Sir.” She hadn’t gotten in trouble in a while, she missed making a mess of things. Bran was certainly one of the centurions that wasn’t around for her bullshit when she pulled it. It was perfect for when she was in a mood like this. She loved seeing how far she could push people and Bran was interesting enough that she was going to have fun with it, she was sure. 

“I don’t envy your job, inspection seems like it sucks. Maybe it’ll go quick,” She said hopefully, with a smile. She looked over, before shaking her head,“It’s been quick all morning. I figure someone is keeping them back for a while, they’re probably planning something.” She didn’t know what but she was sure they had something they were going to do that would ruin Martina’s day. Maybe it wouldn’t be this morning, but it was coming. 

Bran frowned pointedly at Martina as she smirked while calling him ‘sir.’ That certainly wasn’t a good omen for his temper. Martina enjoyed having fun, if Bran was remembering correctly - and he had a rather sneaking suspicion that, today, he was going to be her entertainment. Gritting his teeth slightly as she stated to speak of inspection seeming like it sucked before she optimistically said it would go quick, Bran gave a slight huff. “It never goes quick.” He informed her rather darkly.

He kept his gaze trained out towards the area under the Graecus’ control. Scowling slightly as she spoke of them most likely planning something, he began to chew at his lower lip in irritation - his mind flashing back to the surprise meeting at the casino where he had been approached by two very annoying pieces of filth - though one he had had a much stronger desire to stab than the other. “Quite.” He agreed quietly. “I do not like that we’re giving them time to plan, let alone breathe.” He stated rather flatly. “We should be pressing them - foot by foot, yard by yard, every day.” 

[madsonofbacchus]

Fuming Frustration

[madsonofbacchus]

martiemcfliest‌:

Martina was put straight back to work when her curse broke. She should have expected it, but the fact that she didn’t even get a full day to get her things back into order annoyed her. Not to mention that, in general, she didn’t completely hate her time wandering the woods of New Rome. There was less people there to annoy her. Getting back people were already pissing her off. Too many people had constant questions. Everyone wanted to know where she had been. Like that was the most interesting thing.

On top of all of this, she still had to shuffle through all the visions that she had had. There were plenty of easy ones to just push off as false, like Jax marrying a chicken or Blossom becoming a literal blossom. However, she had plenty of ones that she couldn’t just write off. Bella’s potential capture, Fergus coming back… Jax being in contact with the Greeks. She didn’t want some of them to be true, she could go for Fergus coming back, but she had no evidence saying they weren’t. 

Her time on duty was spent thinking of those visions, though her thoughts were interrupted by Bran. “No, ‘Hi, Martina, how are you this morning?’ I’m doing great, thanks for asking Bran. How are you?” She replied back, flashing him a smile, hoping that he wasn’t in too bad of a mood.

Bran raised his eyes to regard Martina skeptically as she flashed him a smile and chatted about how she was doing. Slowly moving to fold his arms over his chest at her smile, Bran’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I will pretend that started with ‘Good Morning, Sir.’” He informed her a little tersely. Sure, they were members of the cult together - and yes, she was highly useful to them given her propensity for visions - but he was not about to let her off on familiarity while she was on duty. 

“As to your question, I am doing horribly - as I am, unfortunately, on inspection once again.” He answered her question as he chewed at his lower lip slightly. “Speaking of inspection,” He pointed out past the checkpoint away from New Rome. “Any sightings of Graecus scum this morning? There are ... stories which suggest some were within the city recently.”

[madsonofbacchus]

Fuming Frustration

[madsonofbacchus]

discordandglory‌:

Cat had never seen the point on being unfairly harsh to her troops. Every centurion had their own individual style and she had been on the receiving end of centurions that treated her unfairly. She wasn’t known for being easy on her troops, but she had always liked to think that her troops had respect for her because of her fairness. At least that was what she was hoping. 

Being on inspection duty with Bran wasn’t a problem. She’d worked with the son of Bacchus inside and outside of the cult before. “It might not be that bad,” Cat suggested with a raise of her eyebrow. Smirking gently, she stepped through the checkpoint. 

Bran had long believed that stalwart stoicism and punishment as an example to discourage other violations were, in fact, the true Roman way. He was rather sure that such a black-and-white belief was something he had genetically inherited through his true Roman ancestry, but that was neither here nor there.

“Your optimism is refreshing,” he told her somewhat dryly as she smirked. “Forgive me if I don’t share it.” He followed her through the checkpoint, eyes sharp and alert for the slightest sign of anything out of place or out of the ordinary as they moved around, scrutinizing everything from weapons placements to logs of people who passed through the checkpoint. They had almost made it through when Bran noticed a uniform regulation violation on one of the soldiers, and proceeded to bawl him out for it for a good ten minutes.

[madsonofbacchus]

Fuming Frustration

Bran was still irritated. Even though time had passed since his surprise meeting with the Graecus scum that had led to the lifting of the curses, he still remained perturbed and frustrated that they had denied his demand for the surrender of traitors to the Legion into his custody. So-called ‘Romans’ like Jason Grace and Kolina Valla remained fugitives from the justice of the Senate because of the stubborn pride of Warrington and Darren... Or whatever their names had been, that wasn’t important.

And so the irascible Centurion of the Third Cohort found himself on inspection duty for the Legion today - stalking around Camp Jupiter and the checkpoints of the Legion throughout New Rome in a fouler mood than usual. Clearly perturbed, the scowling officer was avoided by legionnaires who weren’t on duty, and was doubly hard on those unfortunate enough to be on duty.

Heading towards the last checkpoint of his inspection tour, he glanced darkly down towards the Lake as he approached the barricade and the legionnaires currently on duty at this forward post. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He announced his presence darkly and irritatedly.

[fireandseaweed]

Take A Chance On Me || Bran, Percy and Wally

Bran receives an offer from Percy and Wally.

Keep reading

[madsonofbacchus]

the-best-brock-star:

“Mmm, indeed. I heard your father’s Greek form has the same issue.” Brock returned the handshake with force. “I guess we can’t all be perfect.” The former centurion winked at the brunette. Standing at attention, with one hand on the hilt of his sword. He looked around the manor and smiled. “You’ve even had the service keep up with the cleaning. Very Maecenas of you.”

“Wrath from the son of Bacchus?” He snorted and imitated a goat’s ‘bah!’ “Where is the rest of the family? Have you been housing any other Romans?”

At the mention of his father’s Greek form, Bran sneered slightly. “Yes, well, the Greeks aren’t work remembering, anyway.” He commented a little coldly, before allowing himself a smile at the wink from the former centurion. “Of course I have.” He gave a slight sniff as the pair of them started walking. “I’m not about to let the place become a sty because some Graecus scum started a war. How un-Roman would that be?” He chuckled slightly.

The imitation of a goat’s bleat from Brock made Bran roll his eyes heavily. “Alas, I don’t possess the ability to curse my enemies in such a manner, or we’d already have won.” He lamented slightly. “Mother is out finding a gown for a Senatorial event.” He informed the other. “And no, things haven’t quite gotten to that point for us.” 

[madsonofbacchus]

the-best-brock-star:

Brock looked up at Bran as he came into view. Pushing his hair back, his hands came down to adjust his breastplate. Being here on official-unofficial business meant he had to be prepared for any attack. Of course, Brock was basically in his armor twenty-four-seven now, even when he was off duty, but then, it felt like he was never off duty. “Perhaps one of these days you’ll learn to respect your fellow citizen and get your doorman to stop being such an ass.” He put his hand out for Bran as they got close enough.

“Don’t have much of one anymore. Everything’s gone into the war. Nowadays I’m either on Lake-duty or watching over the high estates. For the next few days, that will be here. Did they send you the letter?” Brock was being placed every week or so at a different location if he wasn’t at the lake, which was fine by him. Despite wanting to be close in case any attacks happened from the Greeks, he enjoyed having actual citizens to watch over. He wondered, knowing their past if Bran had requested him. “How are things here? It doesn’t look like the enemy has done any damage to your manor.” 

Bran couldn’t help but smirk mischievously as Brock made the comment about his doorman being an ass. “Come now, Brock,” He tutted gently - advancing on his old friend and giving him a firm handshake in greeting. “You know I have difficulty remembering names - I need the reminders.” He gave the other a playful wink as he scrutinized the Roman in his armor. Brock had always taken care of himself, but war - it seemed - agreed with Brock. He looked better than most in his armor and fully outfitted for war.

“A tragedy of war, that.” Bran tutted gently when Brock mentioned a lack of a life. “I did get the letter, yes.” He nodded his head slightly, folding his arms behind his back as he began to walk through the cavernous halls of the mansion - expecting Brock to walk with him without a word being said. “No, the Graecus scum have spared us any raids.” He commented lightly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they heard of my father’s blessing on the grounds and believed it might court divine wrath.” He laughed a little at that, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

[fullmoondudes]

@madsonofbacchus

“Brock Davis, here to see Brandon Maecenas.” The young son of Mars looked impatient as he stood outside the family’s vineyard home. The doorman, who at least knew what Brock looked like, raised an eyebrow and waited for what Brock hoped wouldn’t come. He rolled his eyes and let out a short breath, correcting himself. “Carson “Brock” Davis, here to see the son of Bacchus, Brandon Maecenas.” With that fixed, he was allowed passage into the home. Brock was announced by the same doorman as he was entered. The booming voice of the other Roman echoed throughout the large foyer. 

[madsonofbacchus]

Bran had been watching from the windows as Brock had made his way up the long drive past fields of ripening grapes, a small smirk on his lips as he slowly ambled to the entryway - lurking out of sight in a side corridor as he picked up a goblet of wine from a nearby servant while waiting for the sound of the doorman to announce his caller. Bran had known Brock for a good number of years - they had served together in the legion, of course - and had been Centurions together during the Battle of Half-Blood Hill when Octavian had been martyred. He had respect for the other male, and felt that Brock - who had been working in private security - deserved something steady and well-paid.

When the voice of the doorman announced 'Carson Davis,' Bran's laughter echoed through the almost cavernous foyer as he stepped into view - dressed simply in a pair of shorts and a purple camp shirt. "Thank you." He dismissed the doorman with a wave of his hand, descending the flight of marble steps towards where Brock stood. "Iterum obvenimus, friend!" He greeted Brock in Latin. "Forgive my joke - I find it so very amusing you despise your actual name, Carson." He laughed a little - though not a laugh containing much warmth or comfort as he took a sip of the wine in his hand. "How goes private life, Citizen Davis?"