Quintus Fulvius the Elder stood slowly, his toga hugged his bony shoulders tightly, but completely hid any figure of the frail man underneath, making him appear more a talking bust than anything else; his ashen skin and snow white hair only added to the illusion. In his thin voice he said,

"It has not been done this way before, to vote out of session for such things. However, the young Tribunus Pleibeus makes valid points. It is my opinion that a General make a formal request to the Senate for a Triumphus in writing, and not through messenger - that we know it is he himself who boldly seeks to claim what is his. However, in this case, I would be willing to make an exception, as I am also willing to take a vote on such matters outside of general session. The Res Publica has changed much through the years since I was a young man first entering these hallowed halls. It is by changing that we keep ourselves and our defenses relevant and avoid the stagnation that would render us victims to all who would plunder our culture and our coffers. I vote 'yay' that we hold a special voting session to debate the Quaestor's Triumphus. When the normal session convenes, we should ammend our charter to allow for such within the confines of the law."

The elder statesman sits down, nearly floating like a leaf in the autumn breeze, where his toga once again enveloped all but his uppermost portions.