Imperator of Mercia The Pargosi Pretender
Goals & MotivationAtticus's goals are simple, though complicated in their execution. He would see himself as the sole victor of the Mercian civil war - the only Imperator left standing of the three. Whether by death or surrender, he would see the Veturii and the Ameridii fall. He wants to win back northern Meis from the Lornesians so the people of Pargos and Meis can claim the true freedom they thirst for and deserve. The current Veturii rule is too restrictive and draconian - and he longs to rule more holistically. If he has to spread the entrails of the Veturii across the Bloodwood he will do it to see his people freed and living under a Pargosi ruler.
ReligiosityAtticus is a quiet devotee of the four. He maintains his faith in the Southern style of intimate family practice. He attempts to lead his family and his holdings as a benevolent Haras figure as best he can. A thoughtful man, Atticus outwardly performs the role of family leader and exemplary Templar, but in his heart there is some doubt. Whether this was a seed planted by demons or a genuine curiosity, even he is not entirely sure. He is awed by the destructive power of magic, and believes in its military utility. However this nascent curiosity is something he holds very closely and does not speak aloud.
appearancePhysically huge, dark-skinned, muscular...Atticus is a Mercian man in his prime. He stands at an impressive six foot three inches, with broad shoulders and thick arms. Maintaining his own fitness is of the utmost importance, and his heavily muscled physique reflects a lifestyle of brutal physical training. He keeps his head shaven, preferring to oil his scalp with perfumed jungle plants; and his chin is rarely seen with more than a shadow of a beard. His chest and body are similarly hairless, giving Atticus the appearance of a great slab of polished mahogany.
His eyes are black and deeply set; his nose and lips prominent. His most defining feature are his teeth, which are straight and well-kept. The flash of Atticus Marinia's smile has struck fear into the heart of many enemies - or unlaced the bodices of many women. Either way, the feline grin of the Pargosi general is a sight to be seen. His carriage is similarly cat-like; and he moves with the measured loping stride of a jaguar. Lean and agile, each movement is confident and carefully done. He is a man well aware of his own physicality and at home in a variety of situations. As such, he carries himself with pride and ease.
personalityFor a brute, Atticus is surprisingly sensitive. He has a brightness, a willing energy, and a pliable temperament. Warm, charismatic, and good humored - many of the men who pledge their loyalty to the Pargosi Imperator do so out of loyalty to their land but also to Atticus himself. He grew within a dichotomy - a glittering and treasured boy among a nest of magpies. He is spoiled and used to adulation, but as a result has an easy temper and an empathy that extends towards many. He genuinely loves the people of Pargos and Meis, and their freedom and well-being is always on his mind. However this altruism does not exist with the kind of self awareness that makes for an ideal leader. Atticus is fickle, emotional, prone to poor decision making. He relies heavily on the counsel of others, and takes their opinions into account at the expense of his own. Often he will side with whoever he spoke to last - an inconsistency that is easy to exploit. An easily influenced, mutable man; he feels genuinely that others possess wisdom that he lacks. At his core he is a people pleaser, and seeks love and approval wherever he might find it. Where else is adulation given but at the head of an army? What more could feed his starving ego than a legion chanting in his name?
Genuine, unpretentious and loving, Atticus is not quick to anger. He possesses an uncommon patience, and the ability to resolve quarrels fairly. However when he is angered he is unrelenting and explosive. To open these floodgates is to welcome in a monster. This is the same creature that possesses the general on the battlefield, giving him the bloodlust necessary to fight and kill and win. It is almost as if another spirit overtakes him, one very unlike his own. He is able to slip this warrior's spirit on as easily as a breastplate - and he wears it to protect himself. A ruler cannot be soft, nor weak, nor overly warm...or at least that is Atticus's reckoning of it. So instead he dons the clothes of a stronger man, so much so that it has become enmeshed with his persona.
strengths & weaknesses
Atticus has little interest in scholarly pursuits, nor does he have the mental ability to comprehend them. Of mathematics, theology, philosophy, and other topics, he has no idea. The only intelligence the man might possess is the clarity to understand his own shortcomings. His reliance on advisors, tutors, and translators is obvious to anyone who knows him. This has fostered a mental laziness and lack of curiosity - he has no interest in studying a topic when he could simply ask someone else to provide their expert opinion.
Hardly a storied political strategist or persuader of men, Atticus is not without social skill. His leadership does not lie with his acumen, but rather with his personal charisma. He is able to navigate gatherings at court with decency, and can makes friends easily. He knows when not to speak out of turn, or how to bind men to his loyalty with a turn of phrase. While not adept in deceit, or in seeing through flattery or tricks - he can negotiate a diplomatic situation without much difficulty. This mostly unremarkable ability puts him head and shoulders above many Mercian men, and he has a reputation for being relatively genteel by those low standards.
Physically impressive, with a lifetime spent in dedication to war-making, Atticus is a renowned general. Skilled with a sword, machete, and double blade - there are few who can best him in hand to hand combat. His physical edge comes from his full comfort in a variety of settings. He is at home in the remote jungles of the basin, able to climb tries as well as fell them. His knowledge of the Pargosi jungles is without compare, and for that reason he excels in guerrilla warfare. He prefers an unconventional battle style typified by swift forced marches and surprise attacks - and this style has gained him fame and infamy throughout Mercia. Over time he rose through the ranks of the Mercian legions, eventually reaching the rank of general.
Consequences of Being AwakeNo Information
Relationship with HouseTense, fraught, overly intimate, meddling, loyal, spiteful...all these words could be used to describe the interconnected relationships between the many powerful women of the Marinii and their solar center Atticus. In many ways Atticus is the family: the only male and the center of their schemes. He relies on his many sisters and his mother for counsel and advice, and they in turn rely on him as the manifestation of their goal. Only he can act for them, and he cannot act without them. They all share a common bond of utter loyalty - but each maintains their petty jealousies separate from the family's larger purpose. There are no secrets among the Marinii, and while dissent is vocal and frequent, they stand as a united front to outsiders.
Public Knowledge- Declared Imperator of Mercia, but only recognized in Eastern Mercia as such.
- Attacked the Ameridii legions and drew first blood in the Mercian civil war
- A storied warrior whose legend paints him as a jungle-bred savage
- Frequent champion of the brawl, he prefers to fight hand to hand and rarely loses
- An incorrigible flirt
Rumors- The Marinii worship a cult of Cer and want to transform Mercia into a hellscape of perversion, magic, and misandry.
- Fornicates with his sister(s)
- Has a harem of 40 women
- On a vision quest in the jungle he survived for a month on nothing but dew off the underside of leaves. He then grappled with and ultimately sexually dominated a wild jaguar whose pelt he wears to sleep.
Atticus grew as a boy among the close growing trees of the jungle; and among women. Ferrani was made for women and their many secrets. Water lapped along its fringes, and the jungle leaned so near to the palace as if to whisper something hidden between them. And so too the Marinii were made for secret things. There was a closeness between the sisters that belied their shared heritage: mysterious, close-kept, dark. The last child, the longed for son, Atticus was thrust into this pit of vipers like an unwitting fetal pig. They swallowed him whole.
It was almost a relief to join the legion and live among men who would sooner clout him in the ear than trade insults. A tribune's life was simpler, and Atticus dedicated himself to physical and mental training. As a noble he rose quickly through the ranks, a privilege not afforded to the average centurion. While some of the patricians were despised by the common men for their rank; Atticus won loyalty among his cohorts for his easy charm and uncompromising fairness. A proud son of Pargos - Atticus believed in the staunch individuality that typified the untamable Eastern spirit. The basin could never be subdued, and there were some who still whispered that life had not improved for them under the Veturii. Why should corrupt oligarchs in Raevenna rule the proud Pargosi? Why not a son of Marinii? At home among the wild jungle vines that fanned their broad leaves out to seek the sun, Atticus was grasping too. As he reached he choked the rest, ever onward towards the sun, a clinging killing vine. Among the jungle and its murderous rooted things the plan took root - Atticus as Imperator...Semper Marinii super omnia.
Ferrani was made for whispers; and soon those whispers grew to a battle cry.
Before Atticus was a choice. It nagged at him, calling into the night air: freedom for his people from the strangling yoke of the Veturii. A simple, inescapable truth...the basin could never be ruled by beasts from Raevenna.
He looked up. No huntsman; only the moon staring down at him round and bronze like a shield. Inside his sisters bickered. The moon could not shield him from that, he would need something stronger. He could hear their shrillness cutting through the air like a knife through flesh.
“Tell Atticus to come back inside.”
“Why? So he’ll agree with you?”
“He always agrees with--”
“He does not!”
“Stay out of this Octavia.”
“Like you stay out of married men’s beds?”
One broken lance to Livia.
They would go on like this for hours if he left them. His sisters were brawlers all, eager to enter the melee on their own account. Each of them snatched little victories from one another, squabbling over scraps like crows. There was comfort in the constancy of their disagreements. The sound of their fighting fell like rain against Atticus’ brow - a familiar nuisance. There was always sound in Pargos; whether it was shouting or the scream of steel against shields. Beyond their borders the jungle sang with its own mysterious music. He wondered if his sisters could hear it...or if they only heard the chatter of their own thoughts.
Before going back to join them he thought of what it might be like to inherit nothing but plenty of quiet and dark.
When Magnus Veturia called Pargos to arms, the Marinii respectfully declined. (In fact, it was not respectful at all - Livia felt the need to spit on the letter from Raevenna before throwing it into the fire) Instead, Atticus named himself as rightful Imperator of Mercia. That he was the third man to claim the crown mattered little to the Pargosi; they thirsted for Western blood. The basin could never be ruled by an outsider; it was too wild, too proud. Only a Pargosi could rule Pargos and have the tenacity to hold Mercia of his own account. And so it was Atticus who struck first.
Leading the legions of Pargos and Meis, Atticus attacked near the border of Thedaea. The Ameridii were fighting on too many fronts at once to defend themselves adequately. This was also the case when the pale demons of Lornesse laid siege to Verdua - a city and territory Atticus fully intends to retake. Marcus Ameridia was merely a sideshow to Atticus, a fat old cripple long past his usefulness. The true target, the stag of the hunt, was Magnus Veturia. Atticus would see him bleed and the cesspit of Raevenna drained of all its bile. Mercia was stretched thin, thin enough to break completely, and Atticus would not miss his chance to ensure the Veturii shattered along with it.
01.Last seen Mar 21 2018, 01:56 PM 02.Created on September 1st, 2017 03.has made 11 posts 04.played by Nori
01.Last seen Mar 21 2018, 01:56 PM 02.Joined on September 1st, 2017 03.has made 11 posts 04.plays