Marcus Fulvius Flaccus was not a very imposing man. A bit on the short side, and prone to having a bit more bulk than he should, the man was definitely not the vision of a hero. But, he was a Fulvius Flaccus, the family closely associated with the Gracchi brothers, and so was still regarded quite well by the crowds as he made his way down into the arena.
Thanks to his sister's connections, Marcus Fulvius sat in the same box as Mamercus Valerius, just to the left of teh Senior Consul's seats. Mamercus was on the right, with his wife Clodia, then came Publius Clodius, Clodia's brother, then Clodius' wife Fulvia, then Marcus Fulvius.
The games promised to be interesting. His gladiator Romulanus hadn't won, but he had three more in wait, so he didn't worry. That was when the tap on the shoulder came.
"Marcus Fulvius?" asked a voice. He turned to see a slave bowing down low.
"Yes?"
"Sir, my master Quintus Servilius Nerva wishes to know if you would care to place a small bet on the match of Tiberinus and Flabius. Flabius is his own gladiator."
"Hmm...well, why not? How much? And where is this Quintus Nerva?" Fulvius Flaccus asked. The slave pointed upwards into the middle rows. "What's he doing up there?! By all means, invite him down, and we can see whose gladiator does best!"