Constantius
- Lasombra -SPQR- Rome -- medieval
Sobriquet: To those who wish his good will, he may be addressed as Augustus or Caesar. For the very few who have a close relationship with him, Flavius.
Appearance: Constantius wasn't a young man at the time of his Embrace, for his long dark hair is shot through at regular intervals with hairs of both gray and white. His careworn, troubled mien bear the marks of a classical Roman heritage and his dark eyes hold both poignant pain and an unflinching pride that is the hallmark of those who refuse to submit to death. Constantius' skin, long untouched by the light of day, is as gray and pale as that of a slug, although the capillaries of his face hold the prominence found in those who once partook too deeply of wine or spirits.
In public or in private, he dresses only in the finest silk robes overlaid by an equally fine brocade surcoat. The only jewelry that he wears is a iron ring of simple if masculine design on his left ring finger, a memento of his long-lost mortal love. But it isn't Constantius' physical form that grips those who encounter him, it is the air of age and shabbiness that cling to him like the shroud of the newly dead. For while his is unaging, he holds himself like a man in his mortal seventies or eighties, stooped and always leaning on an ebony stick, use as often as not to rise from his cold throne. That is, until he is roused to fury, then the seeming gray cobwebs of time shatter as his shadow explodes into action, which is usually the last thing that someone so stupid ever sees.
Behavior: Constantius holds court from his ancient domicile, the Quadrilaterae Palace, which lies lost among the ever twisting labyrinthine lanes of the lower Esquiline hill. From there, he meets newcomers and longtime residents equally in the covered Roman courtyard, beneath an ornate dome with a mechanical iris at its center, which lies directly above said guest. Constantius prefers to meet his guests simply and without overt ceremony. He is often found seated upon a slightly elevated throne of bronze turned as green as jade. Once his childer, who hover like birds of prey, lead one into his presence, he will sit silent and watchful until something his guest says piques his withered interest. Then with the careful deliberation of a diplomat he will ofter some tidbit of conversation: an ancient memory, a seemingly simple bit of fatherly advice or an eloquent speech come to mind whole and perfect. Then, tiredly, unless further spurred by strong emotion or necessity, he will lapse back into a kind of distant nostalgia or abstract thought - seemingly oblivious to those who linger in his presence - his eyes turned inward to some unknowable contemplation.
History: Flavius Constantius Augustus was born in the middle decades of the fourth century, in Naissus, known in the medieval age as Niš, Serbia. Born to a family of plebeian origin, Flavius would devote himself to the life of a career soldier of the legions. He rose from a simple legionnaire to hold the most honored rank of magister militum under the emperor Honorius.
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