#armis exposcere pacem.

[canemnecredite]

armis exposcere pacem.

date: 08 february 2018, approx. 8:15 pm / midday after the battle for the eastern district location: the woods along the lake & the perimeter of the greek camp / adriana’s tent at the waterfront headquarters  

synopsis: after accepting the proposal extended to her by jax, adriana makes her way to the greek headquarters to initiate their mission / adriana reflects on the events of the war up to the present and her place in the battles to come (with a noticeable change in appearance)

triggers: death mention, gore (just one theoretical mention of injury)

characters this may concern: @avadakaravadra​ / @fireandseaweed​ / @peacefully-blossom

“Armis Exposcere Pacem” - They demanded peace by force of arms.

       The motto of the Clan Caninii works twofold. It defines their history as rebels against those who challenged the Roman Republic -- insurgents such as Julius Caesar and Octavian who sought to turn Rome from a people’s Republic to an Empire under the single authority of a dictator -- and upholds their belief that the independence of the Roman people and their voice in matters that concern their home and livelihood are meant to be respected and heard -- that these crucial foundations of the Republic must be defended for the good of the people. When Caesar began taking arms against those who would oppose him and threatened the continued governance of the Senate, the Caninii, along with others, took up arms against the tyrant, because there is no peace without war.

But if the New Roman Senate has become a Caesar in its own right... is there even a Republic left to salvage?

Roman names are unique. A Roman may have multiple given names and compartmental surnames. When most people hear the name Caninii, their minds immediately recognize the root word caninus, meaning “canine;” and while this root is not false, it is also not the whole picture. Caninii is the plural form for each individual family member’s surname, Caninius -- a name also related to the word canus, which means “white” or “grey.” White, for peace. Grey, for ambiguity. The name for a clan who hold themselves in neutrality, until the time is right.  

Clans, of course, have branches. For Romans, these branches are identified by cognomen, names ascribed to individuals or families for particular traits or achievements. Rebilus is theirs. It comes from rebellis, meaning “rebellious,” “rebel,” or “insurgent.” A curious name for such a high ranking noble family, but the Caninii are in no way ashamed of their legacy. They embrace their ancestor’s victory over Octavian. Defying a man like that, with immense power at his back, as ancient pirates attacking, raiding, and blocking his navy, no less, was remarkably bold. Sirius had been an integral part in a successful act of defiance against Rome’s future first emperor. For millennia, his descendants have strived to follow his example -- to fight for peace and end a war, even if that peace came to be short-lived. But the tenets set down in antiquity and preserved through countless generations have warped over time. They have been tainted by the the New Roman Senate and the shadowy organization that backs their ideals. But how can the Senate be a true senate when they hardly regard the words of their people? All of their people. They have become manipulative and absolute, dishing out orders as if they were a single power not to be questioned. As if their council is an emperor in its own right.

Adriana no longer believes they deserve the title of Senate. Though their mark has been burned into her arm as an obligatory identification of her conscription to the Legion, if this is how they intend to continue, she has come to reject any subscription to their orders. Her careful resistance to her grandfather’s authority and yet determination to inherit the empire that her kin have made is the result of her intention to reforge her house’s reputation and operation. She strives to be true to her ancestor’s legacy, even if it means threatening her standing in New Roman society.

As she trod through the forest shadows along the lakeside, Adriana found herself facing somewhat of an existential crisis. The events of the war up to this point had left her with mixed feelings. When Blossom’s pride celebration had been subjected to a raid, the sweet girl arrested, the Greeks branded as alien citizens, forced from the Legion, and then exiled-- each event had stoked her frustration, then anger, with the Senate. She had come to Lina the day before the horrific attacks that prompted the war, ready to defy the Senate’s orders to their cohort and shed the blood of any legionnaire who got in her way, if it came to that. Perhaps it was unbelievably rash, but her legionnaires being commanded to assist in the exile of those who had been their family in the Fourth had triggered a rage that had her seeing red. If Lina hadn’t “assaulted” her, it was likely she would have been branded a traitor and locked away... or worse. Lina had made a tremendous sacrifice to keep their kids safe, and now it was Adriana’s turn to protect those she loved.

However, the armory had been bombed, supposedly by the Greeks. She had no way of confirming that, but the loss of a place so dear to her heart, and multiple siblings and co-workers along with it, had stirred the poison in her blood. Fergus and Callum had fallen to the Romans, and still, those few weeks in camp had left her conscience torn. Lina had obligated Adriana to watch over their legionnaires. The centurion had felt as though she couldn’t budge, because she owed Lina that much. Then, she had attended Fergus’ wake and funeral. A funeral with no body to burn in his honor. It was Jax’s proposal that night that had finally pushed her over that edge. She had been clinging to orders to maintain stability, so a mission had been the perfect catalyst for initiating the action she had been dying to take. Especially knowing she had Jax backing her as a partner and ally.

Whatever they had become was a stranger to the tempestuous relationship they had shared growing up. Their rivalry remained, though void of the mutual dislike that had existed so passionately between them. Adriana didn’t know what to make of it. Despite their animosity, they had always made efficient partners. They trusted one another in their own twisted way, only now, something far deeper was underlying that trust. But she refused to acknowledge it. She was putting blind faith in that force as if it was liable to break should she address it. The mission was enough. Her personal emotions would only get in its way. Yet, leaving him behind in the dark to venture into dangerous territory alone widened that tear of doubt in her chest ever so slightly.

She had to shake her head to cast off the feeling, but it would never fade entirely. For just a moment, she paused and looked out over the water. The radiant silver glow of a waning half moon rippled atop the lake. The corner of her lips twitched upward at the sight. It was lovely. Too lovely for the period of violence that had engulfed her home. With that thought, the lighthearted tease of a smile faded.

“I hope he’s right,” the daughter of Mars sighed as her gold-tinted gaze lifted to the titaness in the sky, assuming she was there in some capacity. The titans were far more elusive than the gods, but Adriana regarded her ancestor with a childlike hope. Surely, Luna was not entirely ignorant to her bloodline’s prayers. “Keep an eye on him,” she implored. “Not for my sake, or his; for everyone’s. You can’t take sides, and neither can I, but I need him to do this. I know Fergus believed in peace, even if he refused to say it. He had the same blood of yours in his veins as in mine and he died trying to prevent this war.” Subconsciously, her thumb brushed over the small shell that had been tied around the hilt of her sword-- a reminder of her silent promise to avenge an undeserved death. Her lids slid over her eyes as she did so. “If you have any regard for your legacies, please, listen to me. Just this once.”

When the moonlight reflected in the woman’s vision again, her observation of the night’s canvas failed to identify any shift in the surroundings, to no surprise. Her attention fell to her hip, where her sword was harnessed and her fingers wrapped around its hilt. A long breath exhaled through her nose. War was meant to be her element, yet here she was, praying to a distantly related deity for assistance in terminating it. Her father must have been aghast. Nevertheless, the daughter of war set her sights forward and pressed on.

As the lights of the waterfront base grew nearer, the grip on her sword tightened. However she was received by the Greeks, it wouldn’t be readily. Adriana was, after all, a long-established centurion of ancient Roman blood. No matter what recent sentiments she had displayed, she would be questioned, and carefully guarded. What came after the declaration of her purpose was impossible to discern. If she had any hope of securing a place within their ranks, it was best she approached with as benign a demeanor as possible. So, as she emerged from the treeline, she slowed her pace and unbuckled her sheath. Her hands were held up, the blade in her right, and when the three boys on patrol spotted her nearing the perimeter, she acknowledged them with steady words. “I’m here to speak with whoever’s in charge. You can tell them that Centurion Adriana Caninii has come to join your cause -- and she has a very important matter to discuss with them, if they’re willing to hear it.”

The trio looked to one another, wordlessly seeking each other’s thoughts, before the eldest among them nodded and the youngest ran toward the heart of their operations. The third confiscated her sword, which resulted in a reflexive snap of, “Careful with that, or there will be trouble,” and a small spell secured her hands in front of her person. But, they escorted her no further than the interior edge of the border. Smart. It wouldn’t do to lead a suspicious figure through the camp without further inspection. Now, the lot of them had nothing more to do than await the leading Greeks’ judgement.

Adriana’s acceptance into the Greek camp had been a surprisingly more welcome ordeal than expected. Her previous support for their plight had been recognized and her help gladly accepted. The only potential hiccup arose when they had intended to bunk her with the rest of the Roman transfers in the underwater complex. Despite the fact that the dome was secure, she was plagued by an intense fear of diving below the water’s surface in any fashion. As a result, she had pitched a tent in the shade of the forest’s edge. It was in fair proximity to the main corpus of operations, yet far enough away that she could have her privacy. Once again, her new compatriots raised little opposition to her desire. 

Nearly four months had passed since her arrival, and in that time, Adriana had done whatever was required to assist the Greeks’ endeavor. She had been distributing supplies and managing refugees, joining in on supply runs, offering training to some of the younger and lesser experienced fighters, and providing as much information on the Roman strategies and movements as she had to give. She fought where force was needed. No large scale attacks had occurred for some time. It had given them the opportunity to rebuild their strength and stabilize their position. However, true battle was bound to break out eventually, and the Eastern District had proven to be the greatest receptor of demigod blood yet. 

The daughter of Mars had been in the thick of it. Nothing charged her like a real fight. Yet, facing fellow legionnaires in attempted lethal combat had left her with far less enthusiasm than usual. There had been an instance or two when she reflexively defended an old friend -- cursing an arrow from a distance or knocking out an old companion to give the impression that they had fallen in battle. They had almost seized the day. They had been so close to claiming victory... but the Romans countered them with a second wind that no one could have predicted. And despite their valiant efforts, the Greeks were the force to sound a retreat. 

Both sides had dead and wounded to tend to. For a brief time, an tense truce had hovered over the field. The soldiers were able to collect their dead without the threat of physical conflict. Neither the Greeks nor the Romans would want to appear total barbarians, after all. Adriana hadn’t come out unscathed. She wasn’t heavily injured, but bearing a series of small cuts with chips of debris from an explosion off to her side, a cut on her arm from the narrowly dodged thrust of a pilum, and a bruise from a slam to her shoulder that was sure to ripen, she too had stepped away to tend to her wounds. 

She sat on the edge of her makeshift bed -- one of the thin mattresses from the bunks and a blanket to go with it -- sanitizing the slash on her arm. The sting of antiseptic drew a hiss from her tongue. Thankfully, the cut was superficial enough to avoid being stitched. The medics had assured her that with the proper daily cleanings and fresh wraps of bandages, it would heal fairly quickly. The former centurion had gotten off lucky. 

Now, you might be thinking, “Well she’s been fighting since she was four! Of course she made it out;” but the truth is, surviving a battle has nothing to do with skill. You can be the best damn swordsman on the field, but that doesn’t make you any less likely to have an arrow hit you from behind or your leg blown off by a grenade that didn’t catch your eye until it was too late. When the chaos of battle is swirling around you, it’s up to luck and fate whether or not you’ll live to fight another day. And yet the history books still call war glorious.

While winding a bandage around the freshly cleaned skin, an auburn strand of hair slipped out from behind her ear and dangled directly in her line of sight. The woman huffed, and the strand blew forward before inevitably drifting back again. Adriana frowned. Despite the distraction, she completed her task. Once the bandages were firmly tied, she straightened her back and brushed the bit of hair back over her shoulder. The quiet moment was taken to examine the parts of her body that hadn’t yet been treated. Her injuries had all been cared for and cleaned, the exposed skin wiped down to check for any other marks hidden behind the dirt and blood. Her armor, clothes, and hair, on the other hand, were a mess. The armor could be done fairly quickly, but there were places where her clothes were torn, and sanguine stains dappled the fabric.

She hadn’t noticed it at first, but as her hands ran through her tousled hair, she found that the light auburn hue was no less stained than her attire. Adriana brought a portion of it into her grip, considering how to proceed. Washing it would be easy enough... but would it be worth it? The hip-length tresses were a trademark of her person. Skipping over the scene of those blazing locks moving in tandem with the dance of a swordswoman was almost impossible to miss. Adriana knew that, and she counted on it. Why?   

“You can’t fight with hair as long as that!”

The mocking words of a young boy rang through her head as it had in her ears so many moons ago -- a tease that spurred a lifelong competition based on little more than a silly insult taken too seriously. Pride had been of great importance to the future Caninii heiress as a child. The day when that competition began had been one amid the naive period of her life, before she realized that her future was limited by her birth and that her grandfather was manipulating her world to shape her toward a specific role. Her pride had shifted, then. Although honor for family would always remain prominent, it was pride in herself -- rather, confidence -- that became the source of her actions. On that day, she decided to leave her hair long. She would prove to him that her skills in combat could not be dulled by her appearance, her size, or her gender. The funny thing was, her skills didn’t need to be proven. The truth was obvious. But, her childish stubbornness had resulted in her carrying on his challenge for years to come. 

Adriana wasn’t a child anymore. She had nothing to prove in terms of ability. That boy was no longer a child either. They were both walking in shadow to see the war to see the war through. The competition had become trivial, especially now that they sought peace in arms. As she sat there in her tent, the clanging of weapons and shouts of medics in the distance, situated in the Greek encampment, the daughter of war had to wonder-- perhaps, it wasn’t worth it after all. Looking back on who she was then and who she was now, an incredulous puff of a laugh brought the hint of a grin to her lips. Novi diluculo, novus dies. Right?

Rising to her feet, Adriana grabbed her sword and marched down to the lakeshore. She took in the sight of herself for a minute, memorizing the picture that she made so that she could remember it, after. That image would serve as a reminder of who she had been to better appreciate the person she had resolved to become. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply as she unsheathed her blade and hovered it behind her neck. With one swift cut, her lifelong distinguishing feature had been sheared from her person. When Adriana opened her eyes, the juniper orbs found a welcome stranger gazing back at her, and her grin widened. Literally and figuratively, it felt as though a heavy weight had dropped away. She felt free to do and be as she pleased. Limitless. 

And that was a dangerous state for a demigod of ancient Roman blood with a sword in her hand.

She would find Blossom later, she thought as she turned to stroll back to her tent and sheathed the blade once more. She was a pretty girl. Surely, she knew something about styling a spontaneous haircut... 

[canemnecredite]

⊰  heraldry of the CANINII REBILI clan  ⊱

nomen · Caninius : derived from Latin caninus, meaning “hound-like” or “snarling” ; may be connected with canus or kanus, meaning “white” or “grey.” 

cognomen · Rebilus : derived from Latin rebellis, meaning “rebellious,” “rebel,” or “insurgent.”

    ⊰ motto: “Armis Exposcere Pacem” -- They demanded peace by force of arms. ⊱

This motto works twofold for the Clan Caninii. It defines their history as rebels against those who threatened the Roman Republic -- insurgents such as Julius Caesar and Octavian who sought to turn Rome from a people’s Republic to an Empire under the single authority of a dictator. The Caninii have long upheld the belief that the independence of the Roman people and their voice in matters that concern their home and lives are meant to be respected and heard, and that these crucial foundations of the Republic must be defended for the good of the people. So when Caesar began taking arms against those who would oppose him and threatened the continued governance of the Senate, the Caninii, along with many others, took up arms against the tyrant, because there is no peace without war. This philosophy lives on in the Caninii household unto this day, and is thus inscribed upon their coat of arms.

history of the family heraldry

The Caninii are an ancient Roman family, and ancient Roman families did not have crests or coats of arms as do the nobility of today. Rather, they preserved their family titles through their nomen and cognomina. The nomen is the signifier of one’s gens, or greater family name (ex. Caninius). The cognomen is a title either earned or granted that separates one branch or clan of the gens from the others (ex. Rebilus). Often the cognomen is representative of the deeds, traits, or beliefs of that specific clan. In the case of the Caninii Rebili, their cognomen is derived from the deeds associated with their past, and in essence, their spirit.

It was not until the Italian Renaissance came around that a coat of arms for the Caninii came into being. It was a time of great artistic expression, the perfect opportunity to design an image that would tie itself to the family for centuries to come. The crest focuses primarily on a dedication to their ancestors and the deities who have most often blessed them in blood, along with the traits that characterize their family tenets. Today you will find this crest displayed in a few spots throughout their villa, as well as on Gaius’ wax seal (he’s old fashioned like that).

the coat of arms & symbolism

field · argent

argent, classified as silver or white, symbolizes the moon, peace, and sincerity ; the argent background of the shield is a testament to the Caninii’s continued mission of preserving peace for the people, and is also an acknowledgement of Luna, the titan goddess of the moon from which many of their line descend.     

ordinary · fess  

the fess is an ordinary that signifies the honorable military status of the family ; it also represents a readiness to serve the public.

gold, is a color that expresses the traits of understanding, respect, virtue, majesty, generosity, and the elevation of the mind. the majority of these traits correspond with the family’s dedication to the people of the Republic, as they are not only defenders of the peace and voice, but generous patrons to public expressions of theatre, music, and dance. they do so because art and culture are intimately related. through creativity, individuals can incite thoughts beyond the mundane and breathe color and excitement into even a city as structured as New Rome.

supports · laurel wreath

the laurel wreath is a symbol of victory and honor. in Roman society, they were used to mark a martial victory by crowning a successful commander in his triumph. the most memorable triumph in the Caninii history is the associated success of Sirius Caninius Rebilus with General Sextus Pompeius of the Late Republic when in their opposition to the Second Triumvirate who rallied over Caesar’s death, they seized Sardinia from a governor of Octavian and erected a naval blockade around the Italian peninsula. they sparked and led the Sicilian revolt, reclaimed Sicily and Sardinia, and within a year forced the triumvirs to sign the Pact of Misenum, which granted them the retention of their control over the islands and future titles. in exchange, they withdrew the blockade and ended their piracy. in these places, the Republic lived on and there was peace-- if only for a brief time. to the modern Caninii, there is no clan story more prided and treasured.  

purple is the color of royal majesty, sovereignty, and justice. across time, the Caninii have possessed sovereignty over their ancient Sicilian home, and still do, in small part. they have had their brush with royalty and certainly have expressed figurative majesty on numerous occasions ; but of these three, justice reigns. justice is central to who they are and with Invidia, the goddess of envy, vengeance, and retribution at their side and in their blood, they are quite fierce in dealing it.   

charges · sable

each of the charges adorning the family crest are colored sable, commonly referred to as black, which represents constancy and resistance -- perfect for any rebel bloodline.

the sword is symbolic of justice and military service ; it is also included to remember the Renaissance matriarch of the family, Andreina Caninii, who died fighting valiantly side by side with the love of her life, the swordmaster Pietro Monte. at the Battle of Agnadello, while the Venetian soldiers were eager to flee, Pietro and Andreina made the choice to die rather than leave the place they were tasked to defend, and though the battle was lost, their dedication and sacrifice made them war heroes so honored that the enemy victor, French King Louis XII, after hearing their tale, set out to locate their bodies on the battlefield to bury them with royal honors. the pair had fallen for one another over their mutual love for wielding a blade. as Pietro wrote his treatises on sword combat, Andreina helped him to perfect them, and it is the blade he forged for her, Servatrix, that has survived centuries and now rests in the hands of her direct descendant, Adriana Caninii, as Greyclaw. Andreina has been Adriana’s idol since her early childhood. hers is a legacy the daughter of Mars can only hope to match.

the serpent is both a symbol of wisdom and a recognition of the goddess Invidia, whose godly blood was the first to enter the veins of the Caninii family.

set in in a sejant attitude, the greyhounds are the truest emblem of the Clan Caninii. it is from these beloved hounds that many say they got their name. you will find that these animals roam the halls of the family’s villa in the modern day, and it’s no secret that the Caninii are the Legion’s go-to dog trainers. greyhounds represent fidelity, courage, and loyalty -- all of which are strongly adhered-to tenets within the household. they are loyal to not only the Republic of New Rome, but fiercely so to one another as well.   

the star that appears near the top of the shield is in direct relation with the hounds and not so much a symbol as a visible record of the family’s true founder, the aforementioned Sirius Caninius Rebilus, whose spirit of vengeance and unyielding dedication to restoring the Roman Republic caught the eye of the goddess Invidia and thus began a line of demigods whose name has preserved itself for ages. the name Sirius is shared with the brightest star in the sky, the “Dog Star,” which is so aptly displayed on the shield with the two hounds and the star above.   

the crescent moon is a another symbol of the titan goddess Luna and a charge bestowed when one is honored by a sovereign, not unlike the case of Andreina and Pietro, but it also represents power over mundane actions -- the ability and will to spark interest, change, creativity, passion -- whatever it may be, the Caninii have been known to start rebellions and change the fate of the world around them through direct action and sheer inspiration alike. they are not the type to remain stagnant, but live fully and freely while preserving that life for others and fighting for it, when necessary.