The Curia, 69 AD: Marcus Otho Caesar Augustus

Marcus Salvius Otho. One of Nero's creatures, even now. His eyes dilated as he stared off into some unknown place as a number of "supporters" - if you could call them that - debated and driveled on around him. The Etrurian scion had found and poured through the former Caesar's correspondences, and it now became clear to this gathering of minds, that the situation in the republic was much more serious than the late Caesar had let on.

One of Nero's things, even now. A few days earlier, Otho had stood before a mob in the forum, them screaming Nero's name at him as if he'd simply fled into the countryside and returned victorious overnight. As if he himself was Nero in flesh and blood. It was a bitter, disgusting thought. Otho left the scene in a hurry and vomited in private, his wig falling onto the floor after slipping from his sweaty balding head.

Oh well.

This Nero, returned from the grave, raised a hand to silence the many voices around him.

"Open the treasury and give the Praetorians twice what Claudius Augustus gave them."

The second consul of the year, the emperor's half-brother, sat in the sella curulis, few steps behind the new caesar. Lucius was twelve years Marcus' senior, fruit of his father's first and earlier marriage, and he looked little like his brother. Luckily his hair had not thinned out considerably, but just greyed. He was a stout and solid man, less florid and much rowdier than the emperor was, his face was marred with liver spots and he was hairy and his hair was neither dark nor light. Rounded head and prominent ears he looked remarkably similar to someone long dead, but that was not discussed openly, just hushed and rumored.

Titianus, son of a powerful Imperial favorite of Tiberius and Claudius, had been consul in the past, alongside the long dead Sulla Felix, a man who did not survive the purges of Nero and thus knew well what the purple demanded to be worn and borne. Titianus was no fool himself, he knew pretty well that Otho could have doomed them all to an early grave. Ashes to ashes. Prefering not to imagine his own head on a pyke paraded by a mob through the Aventine, the consul averted his eyes from the gathering a moment. After minutes of abstraction, and realizing Longinus had ended his short address, Titianus arose himself and stood by the curule chair.

"Noble Caesar"

Said the older man to the younger.

"Rebels gather in the fringes, willing to profit from the current situation, which is most momentous but also quite dire"

He was wearing the old-fashioned consular toga, but despite it was a good fit Titianus felt akwardly out of place, thrown into an impossible situation. Keeping Otho in the Imperial purple and his own head over his shoulders would be a daunting task.

"We need Romans to defend the capital, the established order and the Res Publica"

Some lip service to the old senatorial class whose support they needed.

"I suggest we send men and word to the Danubian limes, where we could gather a great number of legions to stand behind my Imperial brother, to defeat those who have raised banner against Caesar in Germania"

Longinus returned to his feet, wincing as he leant on a cane for support.

”I believe that the traitorous usurper can be sidestepped entirely, noble Caesar, for I doubt the Rhine legions raised him to the purple out of any love for his vile person.”

Vitellius had been chosen by Galba for his incompetence, a practice that Nero had often indulged in to keep the mutinous legions in line. But it seemed they had been so determined for rebellion that they had raised him up regardless. That Otho seemed so eager to come to terms made Cassius consider that perhaps the Caesar was aware of the weakness of his own position - and that he needed a political crutch more substantial than the onanistic pronouncements of his elder brother.

”I propose we send the good Consul to the Danube, for the presence of the Caesar’s kin might do much to remind the soldiers of their loyalties to the Republic.”

Echoed Longinus, before gesturing towards Otho.

”I also humbly suggest we send a delegation to the Rhine legions, who perhaps can be convinced to abandon this folly and return to the fold of peace.”

Or else it might purchase them time enough to prepare for the inevitable invasion.

"Agreed to all."

He glances at his elder brother, more than a decade older than him. They had different mothers, and it showed.

"I am proud to have a brother willing to risk his own flesh and blood for his Caesar."

His expression and tone was one less of pride and more of exhaustion.

"Longinus - you would be perfect to bring words to Vitellius, but I dare not send you from this house of conscript fathers. Does the senate have a suggestion?"

Suetonius, conqueror of the druids' isle. A man like that under Otho's command...

"Our elder brother is consul for the year, alongside ourself; would you argue for a better assignment for him?"

Now that he thought about it more, he felt more comfortable sending his decade-elder half-brother to speak with Vitellius' creatures. Less opportunity for an important praetor to go over to Vitellius.

"Perhaps the noble Paulinus should be sent to Pannonia and our noble Consul to negotiate with Vitellius, then, given he possesses the dignity and office of state required for such a task. I appreciate the Princeps' confidence in myself, but alas, I am too aged and wearied to accept such a distant assignment."

Cassius nodded his head in thanks and produced a little cough for good measure. Longinus had apparently been on death's door for twenty years - it was perhaps the only reason why the old man was still alive.

"With Caesar's consent, we could vote on the matter."

A formality, but tradition must be preserved. Longinus appreciated Otho's attempts to not become another Nero or Gaius, despite whatever face he was showing to the mob.

Otho promulgates another edict:
- the Praetorian Guard now chooses its own leader internally from amongst themselves.