Siblings By Right, Siblings By Fight (Orwell)

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August pretty much hated the world. Except maybe two or three people. It was just who he was. He was just angry right now. Which drove him to the Field of Mars. He didn’t have a bow. Well, he could use one, just not today. He had a gladius as most others would. Before him was a stationary dummy. It wasn’t the greatest thing to train with, but he didn’t feel like finding one of the worthless souls who called this place home to ask if they wanted a spar.

He was wearing nonchalant camp gear: blue jeans, the standard purple shirt, and some tennis shoes. His golden hair was meticulously placed, but no product to keep it there as he didn’t believe in that rubbish. His right forearm bore the tattoo of the sun and the SPQR letters and the bars of his service. At his side, different from anyone else, was the camp heirloom that was currently his and never parted his company: the ceremonial Augur dagger. The jewels covering the sheathe glinted in the sunlight of the early afternoon autumn day. The hilt showed that the weapon itself was no less ornate. Though it wasn’t honestly a weapon. It was for making auguries by sacrificing a stuffed animal (thank you to the Humane Society and also the impracticality these days for not using actual animals). He was proud to own the dagger that been handed down for millennia from one Augur to the next. It made him feel part of something bigger. And his blessing from his father to even be the Augur was one of the most important things to him. He had gone through childhood forgotten, abused, and neglected, then when he got to camp, he was big news because it was he who read the future of the camp. No one else. He puffed up with pride at the very thought, even though it had been so for many years now. He had been 13 when he was blessed. Eight years ago. He had sent campers on amazing quests. He had helped decide important decisions. He felt important. Even if hardly anyone liked him persay, no one could deny he had a place here.

But back to the present. He brought his gladius up to attention, then leapt at the dummy without mercy, going for the death blow right off the bat, even if the dummy wasn’t even alive. He pretended it could fight back and went into the fluid movements of a typical training routine.

TAG: @orwell
WORDS: 422
NOTES: I hope you don't mind August is a little harsh naturally. I'm sure he'll be nicer once she is on scene though! LOL

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Orwell hadn’t talked to her siblings in forever it seemed, especially Agust it’s not that they weren’t getting along it had been more that she had been very busy and she hadn’t wanted to disturb him as of lately, but today she had time aside to meet up with him and maybe just knock him on his ass. The only reason she had been able to even be able to fight after becoming blind was mostly because August didn’t pity her and therefore didn’t take it easy on her. She owed her brother a lot of things and being able to live with the blindness was one of them.

She had asked around for him ever since she had stepped into camp this day, most of them had simply walked the other way not finding her worthy of their company. She didn’t care really, after all why should she, they were kids and they though they were all that, she guessed that was teenagers for you. In the end she had found some of the people she knew however, and they said he was at the fields of mars.

Orwell arrives there almost soundless as she listened to him taking out his anger at a dummy. A smile form on her lips and she then says. “You know bro…. it’s better to take your anger out on me instead. I mean I fight back.” She then says with a small laugh and waits for him to step closer, listening to ever move he made to find out where he was standing, she knew her brother wasn’t a people person, but Orwell had never cared about that, he was her brother no matter how rude or angry he got. She would protect him if she could.

She then picked up her blind stick and pushed the button that remade it to a sword. “We can spare or something?” She then adds and waits for him to make up his mind. Orwell always did 100% when it came to fighting, something that usually made people angry at her because since she is blind she should be an easy target. She loved the fact that August never looked at her like an defenseless puppy.

August Mitchell

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August was beating out all his hatred and desperation on this dummy. He was having a bad day, as usual. His Roman-trained instincts were staying true, as his attention was on not just the dummy, but any legionnaires within 100 feet of him. Or, at least, he knew they were there. So when one of them was getting closer and did not have a weapon drawn, it drew his attention. He played it off though and finished his round until the figure – he now recognized as his step-sister Orwell – was close enough for his caring. He was, as usual, struck by how quiet she was. He’d battled her many times and that young lady was lethal. It was something he admired greatly in her. He felt a connection with Orwell. When she went blind, he tried to be there for her, but not in the traditional way. He didn’t pity her. He harkened back to all the people who made an impact in him growing up. His mother was like her blindness: something that made you appear weaker. Then there was Stafano, an actor he had met on set as a child who had always pleaded the shy little blonde boy to give this big name actor a personal concert before every day’s shooting. So little August would unpack his violin and he would play as though he was in one of the grandest concert halls. Then Stefano would applaud and clap August on the shoulder, assuring him that the little boy had given him just what he needed to get through a tough day shooting. August didn’t know the first thing about movies and tv outside the set of them – his mother didn’t even let him watch the Disney movies when he was little – but Stefano made him feel wonderful.

So that was what he had done with Orwell. He gave her some breathing space for a little, then he started going to her the beginning of a day here and there and ask for a duel. He gave her a hard time of it and never held back. She got better. She got a lot better. At the end, he’d always clap her on the shoulder and tell her thanks for the challenge. He wanted her to know that she was a challenge. Not challenged but challenging. He wanted her to know she could be the toughest person out there, no matter what. So he simply treated her as though she already was.

When she was close enough, he stopped the fighting and regarded her. Her words made him laugh. A good, honest laugh. One that rarely came from him. “Oh, really?” He watched her, smirking his usual way, as she readied her weapon. “Well, there’s no sense in standing here then. Ladies first.” He raised his gladius to the ready and grinned. This was going to be fun.

TAG: @orwell
WORDS: 481
NOTES: I hope you don't mind I kind of filled in some past stuff. If you want, I can change it.

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A smile comes to Orwell's face as she heard the laugh of her half brother, she knew he didn't laugh much so being one of the few that could make him laugh made her feel very special. And she hadn't been lying, taking his so called anger out on her that fought back. Was way better then some dummy that he could easily defeat. She then grins "yes, really. You know I don't hold back." She then says and tries to listen how he steps so she can know what way he probably will swing his glaius.

Her grin grew to a smirk that could match his own as he said Ladies first. She takes a step then lets her sword swirl trough the air towards him. She moves forward and lets her knee connect with his to try and push him so she could get the upper hand. She enjoyed to have the upper hand after all.

She counted on her hearing when she fought to find out where people were at all times, after all she didn't want to be surprised by a attack which was why she enjoyed sparring with her brother. Because he never held back and also lets her grow as a fighter.

She takes a step back trying to figure out his next move meeting his blade with her own

.

Tag August Mitchell

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August was glad to see his sister. He really was. She was one of the few people in the wreck of a camp that he considered to be a genuinely good person. So when she said she wouldn’t hold back, he grinned, because she knew the dead last thing she would ever do to him was hold back whilst trying to kick his butt. “So scary,” he teased her like he often did. “Sissy,” he dropped the nickname, trying to annoy her to get a better fight out of her, just like he did when she first went blind. Then again, sissy was more common for him to call her now, but always in jest. “Okay, I’ll humor you. If you really want to try.” He chuckled, still teasing.

So he got into position and offered her to start. She definitely did not hesitate and, as usual, she knew exactly where he was. He had to move fast to get out of the way of that first slice, seeing as he was not willing to give her the victory that came with hearing him have to use his gladius to deflect it. Unfortunately, his arrogance did him little good this time as her knee came shoving next and he was already a bit off balance from trying to back up. He stumbled and didn’t need to look at her to imagine the smirk that was probably gracing her lips at the sound of the awkwardness.

One thing amazing about Orwell was this: so many Romans relied upon feigns. That did not work on her because she couldn’t see the feign to fall for it. She might hear it, but it simply wasn’t as effective. When fighting Orwell, you had to just be really good. So he did his best. He leapt forward to momentary eliminate the grass rustling, and slashed right for her stomach just as his boots his the ground. All according to plan, the jump would throw her off and he’d score the first hit. Then again, with Orwell, her hearing was practically magical, so no telling honestly.

TAG: @orwell
WORDS: 350
NOTES:

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Orwell give her brother a smirk when he say in a way to sarcastic tone for her, that it was so scary. She then gets a determinate look on her face when he say his ever so fun nickname for her, oh how she wished she could kick his ass good right now, he knew how much she hated that nickname, well not really, she enjoyed it very much because it made her feel like she was indeed a part of a big family and she loved him for it.

She heard him stumble, her little knee trick had done what it was supposed to. A smirk formed on her lips and she was on her way to slam the stick down on him while he was still down.

She then heard him leap, now this was the fun thing about fighting her brother he always tried to trick her it seemed, and she simply loved it. She could only hear the rustling of his clothes now, and she tried to listen exactly where he was in the air, but to no use. She soon felt a pain in her stomach and she moves her stick up to try and block whatever was coming next.

She stumbles a little, but for once her clumsiness don’t take over and she holds herself up form the blow and she smiles big. “Wow brother, have you been practicing?” she asks slowly and look up then takes a running start towards where she last left him, letting her fighting stick move trough the air towards him. She was really impressed with what he had done so far, she had missed hanging out with him and fight.


Tag August Mitchell

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August was having a grand time. He loved fighting his sister Orwell. She has this style of fighting that was so unique and challenging to spar with. Plus she was fun to tease. "Come on, Sissy, at least try! He laughed, which betrayed that he was only joking with her, as it wasn't a mean or cruel laugh, but a happy one.

He felt a little bad for landing that blow, since he had no love for hurting her, but it was just a friendly match and he planned on treated his sister to smoothies after anyway, so what was a little blood? Something she obviously seemed okay with, given her aggressive counterattack. He tried to step to the side to get out of the way, but a loud SMACK as she easily got him right on the upper arm as he turned to get away. He hissed out his breath out of instinct and chuckled. "Lucky shot! He laughed. But why stop there? Since she was at his side now, he swung his elbow of the now injured arm right at her head. After all, why go easy?

Yes, he loved fighting his sister, but he also - yes, he would silently admit it - he loved her period. She was fun to be around. He might bully her a little, but it was in a sibling way, to make her stronger. However, if anyone else dared bully Orwell, they'd answer to August. He was the only one who was allowed to tease her. And may the gods protect any male who gained a romantic interest in her. They would, of course, be put through the brother test in all its multi-facetted fierceness. Only the best for her.

Tag: @orwell

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Orwell glares out in the air and then stick out her tounge, “I am... but I don't know if you want to be beat by a girl.” She then say with a small laugh and tries to listen to where he was, she heard his laugh and a smirk form on her lips as she slammed her figthing stick forward trying to make it conect with where she heard his laugh.

She grins as she heard the hiss form him, so she had indeed hit her target then. She feels a pain by the side of her head and she fall over and gives out a small growl of pain, and then swing her figthing stick to the side to try and make him trip over, trying to connect it with his legs that she now know where is because of the blow to her head.

After this she gets up and held up her hands, her head hurt a little more then intended and she needed five minutes just to get it back. “Just a moment.. please” she then say as she close her eyes hard and consentrate on the sun to make her head clear again, she migth not be able to see the sun anymore but she is still able to feel it and use it to heal a little. She then takes a breath and stands up again and smiled big to him.

“Didn't know you had it in you to hurt me like that, am so proud of you brother.” She then add and makes her figthing stick swig trough the air and then grabs a hold of it again and waits for her brother to say something to her. “So, how have my favorite brother been?” she then asks as she gets back into defense position.

August Mitchell

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August laughed as dear sister stuck out her tongue and commented on being beaten by a girl. "I would die right here of shame." And then she landed a pretty good blow and he was much less pleased with the matter, so he aimed to take her down and actually connected. He did feels little bad at how hard the hit felt from his end. He could only imagine what it felt like for her. She was a quick responder though. He should have seen it coming, but not many were as quick as her, so his ankles got a solid smack and he went down hard. He muttered a few unkind things in Latin.

To say he was pleased when she called for a pause was putting it lightly. He got back up and rubbed his arm where she'd gotten him. It did hurt. He'd be fine though. He was a little worried about his sister though. "Sure, take your time."

August frowned a little at her words, glad she couldn't see. It made him feel bad that he'd hurt her like that. To the point she needed a minute. He wondered if, even without sight, she could see the spots of light. Since they weren't actually there, there was no way of telling. She confidently asked how he'd been lately as she prepped for round two. He didn't want to keep going. He didn't want to hurt her more. Or get hurt himself. "Well enough. Perhaps we can continue this conversation over something to eat? Call it a draw?"


Notes: sorry it's short. Low muse and no word count on my phone.

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Orwell laughed when her brother said that he would die of shame right there, she didn’t really believe that he would do just that but it was still very amusing to her hearing him say that. After all, he brother might seem mean and mysterious she just found him to be very amusing and kind, at least towards her.

Orwell tries not to laugh as she heard her brother swear as he fall over, she just found it so darn amusing when he swore like that, the Latin words made it almost sound melodic in some way.

She sends a smile in his way as he told her to take her time, her eyes were still closed though as she did this and her head was tilted up towards the sky and the sun. “Awh, you fear me brother? Good, wouldn’t have it any other way.” She then say as she dropped the fighting stick and takes a few steps towards him and throw her arm around his shoulder, she then leaned her head on his shoulder and smiles against it.

“Food sounds lovely, my stomach has been growling the last hour or so.” She then say and moves her head up again and hols her arm around his shoulder as they are walking towards wherever he wants to go eat, after all it was his turn she had chosen the last place.

August Mitchell

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August was not having fun. He had several parts of his body that hurt decently. He was grateful she needed a minute. He popped his neck as soon as he stood, encouraging her to take a much time as she needed. He chuckled derisively when she asked if he feared her. Only to follow it up with how this was good news that he did. “Welly, I don’t remember telling you I did,” he said, using the nickname he tended to use in a less teasing time. His tone was like a schoolteacher correcting a naughty elementary child, though, so he supposed it was a little teasing. He dropped that tone and chuckled again. “I think you’re just hiding how horrified of me you are. It’s okay, Sissy, big bwudder won’t hurt you. Too bad.”

He offered to get them something to eat and it sure didn’t take long for her to react to that. She abruptly dropped her fighting stick and headed toward him and nonchalantly used him as both support and pillow. He chuckled at her antics. “Let me guess, conveniently forgot breakfast?” She started walking, so he assumed she was okay with leaving her fighting stick behind. He still felt the need to bring it up. “You sure you want to leave you kill stick?” He teased, though his question was honest. As he waited for her answer, he thought on where they could go. He’d surprise her. A child of Mercury had just opened a food cart in the Forum this past weekend. From what he understood, they’d just retired in June and this was their venture into becoming the merchant their father was the patron of. He’d take her there. It was pretty big, with three grills and an cover and the guy specialized in, oddly enough, grilled cheese sandwiches. All he knew was that it smelled really good. And why not support a new business?

TAG: @orwell
WORDS: 321
NOTES:

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Orwell grin and pats his shoulder, “I believe you brother I truly do” she then answer carefully trying to figure out where they were going, a small frown come to her face however when he call her welly but she did not mind the nickname to much, but still she had never been good at hearing the nickname. A smile then came to her face and she punched him in the arm lightly as he said he would not hurt her to bad. “I’ll hold you to that big brother” she then say and move her hand from aorund his shoulder and around his arm.

“I always forget breakfast when am coming to visit you, mostly because you always know the best places to eat.” She answer as she have her head on his shoulder. “Its fine, I’ll collect it later am sure you will follow me back so I don’t have to go aorund trying to find it later?” she then ask and move her head sideways with a sweet smile on her face to try and convince him to come with her later to collect it.

No one would try to take it either way, so she wasn’t so scared about just that. As they were walking however she tried to understand where they were going so far she had no idea. She made a face and tried to figure out where exactly they were headed and she came up with nothing.

“are you trying to make me unsure about where we are going?” she then ask out loud and try once more and fail, she made a face and gave out a small sigh before she placed her head on his shoulder again and just walks by his side lie that for a moment. She really enjoyed the moments like this, they were to few of them and she loved her brother to much not to spend time with him.

August Mitchell

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August loved his sister dearly. She was one of the few around whom he could be himself. So he chuckled as they walked and she assumed position where he could guide her and she was also comfortable. He squirmed to get his arm out of his denim jacket and draped it around her so they were both blocked from the slight breeze, and let his hand stay comfortably on her shoulder. She said that she held him to not hurting him too badly and he laughed. “Wished you’d say the same! You’re pretty scary on the battlefield!” His tone was teasing, but he meant what he said. He did this often with Orwell, where he would pretend to tease her, when really he was being honest. After all this time, he figured she knew him well enough that if a smile could be heard in his tone, she would know he wasn’t just tugging her arm.

At the announcement that she always forgot breakfast intentionally, his hand left her shoulder to muss her hair jovially. “You little stink.” He already knew her tactics in this, as she did it quite frequently, but it was fun to play dumb just so he could give her a hard time. And then, again knowing him too well, she told him point blank that he was assuredly going to be accompanying her back to pick up her staff. He chuckled. “You know me, can’t refuse a damsel in distress.” This was entirely a lie, of course, and she knew it. She was no damsel in distress by any means, and he was usually heartless with everyone but her and Julia. There was that smile of hers. “Gods, no, Sis, not the smile! I’m convinced Helen of Troy time-travelled and took tips from you on how to be cute and innocent and bend males to her will.” He nudged her teasingly, which was a curious feat considering she was leaning on his shoulder.

Terminus let him pass even though he did have a weapon on his person. August Mitchell possessed the only weapon allowed into New Rome, and that was the ceremonial augury dagger. More or less since it had been passed from augur to augur since the founding of Rome and the blessing of the gods with this gift, and to use it as a weapon had been proven in the past by one foolish Dark Ages Roman demigod Augur… to bring a curse. In that instance, so story went, the demigod had used the dagger to kill his enemy on the battlefield and, even though it was only due to the fact that his gladius had been stripped of him, the gods were not pleased. The end result: The Black Plague. Since then, every augur was careful and respectful with the dagger. Thus Terminus knew it posed no threat in the city walls.

“Now, would I do that?” He took the long route, wanting to confuse the heck out of his sister. So first the passed the noisy aqueducts on the far west side, then upper North side where the most massive villas were – usually reserved for Senators, where the trickle of courtyard fountains could be heard. Then straight down the middle through the market section which likely assaulted Orwell with all kinds of smells and sounds. He was having fun with this. Eventually they would get to the destination, but he wanted to be sure she was thoroughly confused first.

TAG: @orwell
WORDS: 578
NOTES: mwahahaha!

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Orwell simply give out a small laugh when her brother said she was scary on the battlefield, “well, I take that as a big compliment coming from you brother.” she told him and sent a small smile his way, she had to fight in such a different way than anyone since her eyes wasn’t with her that was why she had to find new and different ways to fight, her hearing was one of those.

She laugh and simply have her head against his shoulder. “Not my fault you know all the good places to eat” she then said as she relaxes against his shoulder. She raised a eyebrow when he called her a damsel, really did he think of her as a damsel in distress? “so, I will have to win how many battles now? So you won’t see me as a damsel?” she then asked and raised her head to look in his direction.

She then raised her shoulders a little when he said that he bent to her will with her smile, that was a new one. But she had to say she knew how to look innocent and woundrable if she had to in the right settings. “Only, male I want to bend to my will don’t take the bait so….” she then add and look away from him and places her head back on his shoulder, she simply didn’t understand males without of her brother but that was indeed different.

“Yes, dear brother that is exactly what you would do” she then answer him, she knew her brother well enough and she still had no idea where they were walking. A small frown came to her face as she tried to understand where they were going. She then shake her head and try to understand, before she give u. “Okay I give, where are you taking me?” it wasn't that she didn’t trust him it was more that she had no idea at all where they were wandering off to. When they finally come to a stop she try to listen or smell jet nothing, she then shake her head making her long red culls fall into her eyes. “Brother… where are we?” she then asks.

August Mitchell

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August smiled, but his lips didn’t part, so there was no sound. His tone betrayed him though. “Of course it’s a compliment. And you best take it or I’ll be putting you through a lecture on precisely how to dismember a teddy bear.” Okay, so secretly he’d used his connections to get her a super corny gift for her birthday. Due to his position as augur, he had a sibling – who was now 62 years old – who sewed a lot and was his personal go-to for his stock to sacrifice to the gods for auguries. She was the best and given the fact that she’d supplied the augurs since before she retired from the service 40 years ago, she was highly respected and her work never led camp astray. But she also used only the finest materials. So he pulled a favor – and 3 months of his income – and got presents for Orwell and Julia. He didn’t know if they would use them as most would, but they would be keepsakes. And the fun part was that Sophronia, the woman who did all this, had agreed to one last thing: he could use them as gifts if he was the one who sewed them. So a whole week with a sewing machine and needles later, he had two somewhat imperfect, but reasonably cute stuffed bears. Both were made with a special polyester fiber treated and spun in such a way as to make it, some would say, softer than cashmere. Each had a little piece of clothing. For Orwell, a jacket made out of a material he honestly couldn’t remember the name of, but it had been the devil to sew with and he thought she would like the texture of. For Julia, a cotton – lest he go into the 4-month income bracket – chiton in soft yellow. Both were hidden in his drawer with his camp shirts, awaiting presentation day. Orwell only had until February though, so soon enough.

August was torn from his thoughts at her teasing and he laughed. Which was good, because he was getting dangerously close to running his sister into the side of a wall with his distracted thoughts. It took more concentration to steer two than it did your own two feet alone. “Glad I can be of service.” He blinked in confusion when she asked how many battles she would have to win before he stopped thinking lower of her. He stopped walking entirely and took both her hands in his to emphasize that this was urgent. “Orwell Olivia Peters. I would never dare think small of you. I apologize if my wording suggested otherwise, but you know I’ve never been could at expressing anything. But remember… who gives a crap what anyone says, okay? You’re amazing. Bar none. And I will forever have your back because I am your brother and I care about you. Now chin up, sis. You don’t have anything to prove to me.” That said, he clapped her on the shoulder and hooked her arm again, setting off.

She, of course, knew him too well and predicted he was trying to throw her off. He held back a snicker as he kept on leading her around. In answer to her question, he tried to be as infuriating as he could to see what she would do, “We’re in New Rome.” How about a dose of vague? The crowds – and their noise – increased as they turned a corner into a side street right off the Forum. There was a little shop with a bright orange awning and he led her inside. It smelled heavily of buttered toast and something else and there was a significant amount of ambient noise. August leaned in towards Orwell’s ear. “We’ll get the food and sit outside if you like, so you’re not bombarded with the sounds.” Then he walked with her to the small line, which was a blessing in that it gave them time to pick what they wanted. “So this place is called Tom And Chee’s and they specialize in grilled cheese and milkshakes. You can put any kind of cheese and any kind of add-on on the grilled cheese, and they have white or wheat bread. Like I usually get cheddar and pickle slices on white. Then of course we need milkshakes. Let’s see…” He looked up at the menu and read off the flavors, “The usual vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, then cookies and cream, coffee, salted caramel, and it looks like they still have the peppermint one too.” So take your pick.

TAG: @orwell
WORDS: 763
NOTES: Fun fact: Tom & Chee’s is a real restaurant that is just like this. But they are founded (and located only in) my hometown of Cincinnati! But we’ll say they came to New Rome too.