David

NAME: Open FACECLAIM: Open GENDER: Female AGE: Around Mania Victoria's (currently 20 years old) RANK/OCCUPATION: Body slave of Mania Victoria HISTORY: Purchased by Mania Victoria on a recent trip to Noricum. Grew up in Noricum, born into slavery. Nowadays, helps Mania sniff out gossip and juicy details all over Rome, mostly from the slaves of other high society women. All else is open to be determined by you. PERSONALITY: Rather shy and naíve. Fearful and respectful of Mania, yet silently resents her somewhat - however, not enough to deny her commands. OTHER: Fluent in both Latin and Noric due to her heritage & upbringing. Communicates exclusively in Noric with Mania, for secrecy's sake. Not allowed entry into the family's jewellery shop, for fear of theft. CONTACT: Discord (BurningBridges#7040)

Mania waited for Lucius to finish with his explanation. For a few seconds, she simply stared at him in disbelief, waiting for any kind of sign that what he'd just said had been a joke, that he actually had some sort of good reason for damaging his own social standing. After he, however, hadn't given her any kind of sign, which suggested he was serious, Mania laughed, and she laughed loudly. It was absolutely absurd; giving up a life filled with riches and rewards simply for existing, to join the vigiles?! Her laughter echoed from the walls surrounding the atrium, and it took her a good minute to calm back down again and catch her breath. "To join the vigiles?! To rescue plebeians and drunkards from burning buildings?! You gave it all up for that?!" Truth be told, Mania couldn't care less if the plebeians all died today. She wanted nothing to do with them, and she honestly didn't understand why they were allowed to enjoy any rights at all. After all, most of them had nothing to warrant any rights, no social nor economic merit. She chuckled once more before finally piping down completely. "By Jupiter, you're even dumber than I had thought." There was one thing Lucius was right about, though; this was excellent fuel for scandal. Fuel Mania herself would generously spread among Rome's social cirlces at upcoming gatherings and events, in the hopes of making Lucius the laughing stock of Rome. He truly was an idiot in her eyes, especially after what he had just told her. She'd always thought the Senatorial families were at least somewhat smart, but that was, apparently, not true at all. "What about your own father, then? The one you had before you were adopted, I mean." Mania figured that might be another emotional topic for him. "I, for one, know my father would be deeply ashamed if Primus or Cassius even considered doing something this asinine." @Chevi

She enjoyed seeing the surprise splattered across his face, knowing she was probably much less docile than what he had expected. Other people might've hated being underestimated, but not Mania; actually, she wanted people to underestimate her, and they usually did, either due to her gender, due to her beauty, due to her social status or a combination of the three. Such a beautiful young lady from such a noble family couldn't possibly be unpleasant in any way, they thought. Oh, how wrong they were. Mania, of course, knew few people who actually got to know her liked her - she was ambitious, not stupid. Her goals were much grander than being well-liked, though, and Lucius had, through his adoption, hurled one more obstacle her way. She was next to be surprised, though; his comment about the options she had presented him with was like a welcome breeze of fresh air in the often stale and uninteresting relations that had become standard within the family. "Oh, don't worry, I've tried bribing them; no amount of wine could convince them to do it, not even they are as stupid as to stab a member of the Senatorial class," she retaliated. Of course, Mania was merely joking. She wouldn't actually try to get Lucius assassinated, despite the fact she felt nothing but contempt for him. She was smarter than that; if there was one thing to be learned from Rome's extensive history, it's that murder plots always unravelled. "Though I guess you're a former member of the Senatorial class now, right? Pray tell, what in the world could have convinved you into deliberately taking a step down the social ladder? People usually want to go up." His next question genuinely required some thinking on her part. "Both, I guess," she answered after a few seconds. "I never wanted another brother - not that anyone asked or would've genuinely cared about my answer if they had - and your Senatorial background is an advantage for you, at least when it comes to my father, which, in turn, makes it a disadvantage for me." For a moment, she considered letting him know her true feelings about her father as well; he had long since stopped being the respectable, powerful gold merchant she once looked up to so much. However, she decided to keep that part for herself. Anything else would've been delivering herself to Lucius on a silver platter. @Chevi

She rolled her eyes, then took a few steps towards him. "No, you're not. If you were, you would've rejected the adoption. You're a man, after all, are you not? You get to make your own decisions, as opposed to having decisions made for you." Mania had never spoken this openly about her opinion on the societal chasm between men and women before, but she didn't care. She could see Lucius didn't want to be on her bad side, so she knew he wouldn't go ratting her out ot her father. That was one decision she could make for him, though. She had already decided never to warm up to him long before this conversation had even started. If Lucius was smart, he was aware of it by now. If he hadn't figured it out yet, he was just as much of a hopeless optimist as her younger brother, Cassius, and wouldn't pose a threat to her in any meaningful way. "I can think of a couple ways you could make it up to me, though," she continued, strolling through the atrium, counting the ways with her fingers. "Jump into the Tiber and forget how to swim, for example, or maybe volunteer to fight in the ludi? Eat hemlock for breakfast, perhaps."

"Oh, yes, that's it," she remarked before snickering, immediately reminded of what had perhaps been the most boring sales pitch of her entire life. The conversations in this house would surely be brimming with exciting information now that Lucius had joined the family! Conversation about as exciting as a dog licking it's own arse, to be exact; vulgar and something Mania would prefer not to be subjected to. At least he'd be spending most of his time at the barracks of the vigiles, so she could avoid him to her heart's content. Hopefully, Vulcan would curse Rome with many fires this year, so she'd have to see as little of him as possible. "They really were gifts for them, then. Parting gifts, I suppose?" At this exact moment, a neverending game of cards between her and Lucius began in Mania's head - she had been playing the same game with Primus for years now. She'd abuse any piece of information which could possibly invoke an emotional response from his side, then abuse his weak spots to her own benefit. From what she could remember from his visit to the jewellery store, Lucius seemed at least somewhat fond of his family, so they would be her first weapon against him. Had she been a warrior, she liked to think, she would've been a master tactician. But Primus was easy to keep in check like this, as he was very much an insecure crybaby who would've been worth nothing without the promise of his father's shop, and was aware of it to boot. Lucius, however, was different... His worth in society was inherent. He had been born with it. His worth came from his lineage, not his coffers. Certainly a worthy opponent, but Mania had never been one to back down from a challenge. @Chevi

Mania had seldom been this enraged. In fact, she couldn't remember a moment in which the rage she was feeling came anywhere close to what she was feeling right now, and for somebody as short-tempered as Mania, that meant something. How dare they?! How dare her family just decide to adopt some idiot without even as much as telling her?! She was used to not being included in the decisionmaking regarding such matters by now, but to not even have been told such a decision was being made until only a few days before Lucius was officially adopted was a sign for Mania - a sign that she would apparently always be overshadowed and pushed to the side, even by people she had absolutely no blood relation to. Sure, Lucius was her adopted brother, but she would never truly recognize him as part of the family, at least not to herself. The paterfamilias had decided to adopt him, and there was nothing Mania could do to revert that decision now. If she were to publicly disagree with her father's decision. she would lose everything - even her very life, perhaps, and she was well aware of this. Her father was extremely strict when it came to abiding by his word, so Mania knew her punishment wouldn't consist of a mere disappointed look or stern talking-to. The fact Lucius hailed from a Senatorial family also instantly established him as one of her father's favourites, 2nd place only to her brother Primus. She looked and looked at him, but she couldn't remember where she had seen him before. At the ludi? At a party? At some sort of military parade? No, he didn't seem like the sort of man who had accomplished anything noteworthy on the battlefield, nor did he seem very popular. Did one of the girls in her network of gossipmongers have a fling with him or something? He didn't really seem like a ladies' man either... She couldn't remember where she had seen his face before, no matter how hard she tried. "Forgive me, dear brother," she begun after having found him wandering through the domus, completely foregoing any kind of greeting and making sure to put extra emphasis on his new role in the family, "but where have I seen you before? I've tried my hardest to remember but I just... can't." Perhaps she had seen him begging for crumbs and change on the street at some point; she wouldn't put it past her father to adopt a beggar, just to slight her. @Chevi

Appius Julius Clemens 39 | January 11th 38 | Plebeian | Bounty & Slave Hunter | Heterosexual | Original | Joaquin Phoenix Personality When not hunting after whoever currently has the highest bounty on their head, Appius is rather laid-back and always up for a good joke or a cup of wine. Making use of rather obscene expressions or telling equally obscene jokes is also not something he's above - one of the many habits he acquired as a gladiator and has since been unable to get rid of. When work calls, however, his demeanor quickly changes - he becomes much more careful, much more en garde and suspicious of his surroundings. He is a very skilled tactician and close combatant and is also rather good in horseback riding and archery, all skills essential to his job that he has picked up and steadily improved over the years. As one might suspect from someone involved in crime, Appius also does not have the most upstanding moral compass or a very strong need to "do the right thing;" Appius can actually be bought pretty easily, if your coffers are full enough. Appearance Appius sports a rather muscular physique and is quite tall. Hygiene is of a somewhat secondary importance to him, but to call him a slob would nonetheless be an insult. His face is weathered and wrinkly, his skin tan from countless hours spent chasing after fugitives in the sun. He usually moves rather quickly and silently, which is not intentional, but rather a professional deformity. He is seemingly always lost in thought or analyzing his surroundings. Despite this first impression, should one actually decide to speak to him (and come with good intentions), Appius will momentarily don a smile from ear to ear, which is accompanied by dimples in his cheeks. When in a relaxed setting, he looks more like the approachable neighbourhood goofball than the stern, calculating hunter one would typically expect someone of his profession to look like. Family Father: Opiter Julius Clemens (dead) Mother: Istacidia Rebila (dead) History Appius Julius Clemens has, as his weathered appearance might suggest, been through a lot. Despite what his name might suggest, he is not noble at all and merely a descendant of Julii freedmen, hailing from a dirt-poor Plebeian family. He volunteered to become a gladiator at the earliest opportunity, largely due to the increase to his quality of life that came with being a gladiator; steady meals and good medical care certainly beat starving to death or dying of sickness in some damp and dark hole, as would've probably happened if he hadn't chosen the path of the gladiator for himself, and he wasn't exactly bothered by the newfound attention he got as a gladiator either. The fact he essentially had to become a slave to be able to indulge in this lifestyle didn't really bother him much. Appius generally does not speak about his life before he had become a gladiator; whether that's because he's genuinelly forgotten over the years or would simply like to forget, not even he himself knows. Due to his socioeconomic status, his childhood was filled with shortcomings and hardships. He was trained as a retiarius-class gladiator, and as such was armed with a trident and a net, protected only by light armor. Appius quickly grew accustomed to the rigorous training regimen he had to endure as a gladiator and grew to be very proficient with his trident and net. He fought valiantly in the ludi, willing to do anything it took to perserve and improve his stauts as a gladiator - even kill, both animals and humans. However, Appius found it much more amusing to taunt his opponents and attempt to catch them with his net rather than try and slaughter them with his trident, earning him the nickname of Piscator. For years, Appius reveled in his successes in the arena. The money, the wine, the women, the fame... What more could a man want? Hell, his sweat was being used as an aphrodisiac! All this fame and attention began to seep into his brain, and little by little, he became more vain and less careful in his battles. In fact, he had become so careless and vain that it took only one loss for his entire Collosseum career to come to an end in the blink of an eye; the injury - a rather nasty cut to the leg - meant he could no longer continue fighting as a gladiator, and as he was rather well-liked by the audience, the organizers of the ludi refrained from making him an easy target for a newcomer or making him a tiger's next meal as well. Instead, Appius' Plebeian status was restored as a parting gift for years of success in the arena. For a while, Appius lived off his savings. He had managed to save up quite a pretty penny for himself; enough to buy a small domus in the city, even. For years, he was a rather active member of Rome's social scene, his status as a previous star of the ludi no doubt aiding him in climbing the social ladder bit by bit. The connections he had managed to form during those years would prove to be very useful later when, itching for combat once again, yearning for the good old days, Appius decided to put his training to good use once more and turned his attention to hunting down criminals and runaway slaves for payment. Due to his ties to Rome's high society, Appius could find out pretty quickly when someone was missing a slave. With his trusty net in hand, and having replaced the trident for a whip, Appius could (and still can) be seen riding out of Rome as soon as the news of an escape come to him. He thoroughly enjoys chasing after the slaves, trapping them, hearing them plead for mercy and then simply tangling them up in his net, loading them up onto his horse and dropping him off at their owner's again, which is always followed by advice to the tune of "Have you considered a collar?" or "Perhaps you should think about branding this one." Appius isn't really in the bounty business for the money; moreso for the thrill, and for the fame he has garnered as a successful-gladiator-gone-bounty-hunter. He has hunted people all around the Empire, and has thus been able to expand his network to nearly every one of it's corners. If there's a city somewhere in the Empire, Appius likely has an informant in it, who helps him sniff out the trails of runaway slaves or the hideouts of the latest up-and-coming criminal. When it comes to criminals, however, Appius is much more lenient in terms of his pursuit than when it comes to slaves. Criminals - unlike slaves - have money. Enough money, in fact, to bribe him to look the other way, or let them get away with just a slight injury (after all, he has appearances to uphold, and it needs to at least look as if he'd made an effort). What's more, Appius has become entangled in many a form of racketeering, mainly manipulating the ludi as part of the Lupii of Roma. As a former gladiator, he knows the inner workings of the ludi inside and out, and is thus a valuable asset to the association. Thus, Appius continues to live a rather comfortable life. These days, he makes most of his money manipulating the games, however his main source of pride remains in his former success as a gladiator and his ongoing success as a bounty hunter. David | GMT+1 | BurningBridges#7040 @Gothic

"Thank you," she said, still smiling at him. "I shall save it for later - it's sweetness shall remind me of your kindness once I return back home!" She really did not want to ingest anything that had been handled by a Peregrinus. It would, however, be an apt snack for her slaves to share between themselves. She did feel somewhat bad for making him waste what little money he had on the bun, but then again the fact he was an obvious airhead wasn't really her fault. When he complimented her pristine platinum hair, her most prized posession, which made her the envy of even many a Senator's daughter, Mania genuinely lit up somewhat. Anyone who knew Mania knew she was vain, and caressing her vanity with compliments was certainly the best way to get on her good side. However, her mood quickly soured when he asked if her hair was a wig. A wig?! Mania wearing a wig?! Not only was he stupid, he was apparently also chronically maladapted to any and all societal norms. You can't just ask someone if their hair is a wig! Who does he think he is?! Truth be told, Mania had made somewhat of a hobby of asking questions like this at social gatherings, however she only ever did it in a very calculated way, never as directly as this. Seeing the faces of Rome's high society lose all color when asked questions like this was incredibly amusing to her, and it was a good way to find out people's secrets without actually having to pry them out of them - a simple glance to the floor or furrowing of the brow was all the answer she needed. She would, however, stay as nice as she had been with him, despite the fact she would've loved to instruct her slaves to beat him senseless right about now - and they would've done it, too, to avoid the beating they themselves would be subjected to otherwise. She faked a laugh. "A wig? But of course not, my hair is all natural! My ancestors come from up north, in Noricum, and the Gods blessed me with their features!" She didn't really know if her ancestors had actually been blond, but it was a good way of rubbing in the fact her hair was actually naturally this color and length - while other, visually less fortunate women would spend hours trying to lighten their hair - and also mentioning her rather exotic heritage, which always made her seem at least a little bit more interesting. She hoped Artemon wouldn't try to touch her hair, with his already dirty laborer fingers now also soaked in blackcurrant juice. If he did, she would personally slap him across the face. @Liv

Name: David Discord: BurningBridges#7040

Titus was no stranger to how other people perceived him; the fact he had been noticed by Servius was more than clear to him, and Servius' stammer confirmed his assumptions. The tension between the two artists was palpable, but where that tension originated from was yet to be seen. Many of Rome's artists, for example, dreaded the sight of Titus at their performances, as that most likely meant Titus would attempt to usurp their performance, and probably succeed in doing so - it was relatively difficult to follow a poetry recital when an actor from the crowd decided to interrupt the performance and take upon the stage, where he said some very unsavoury things about the wife of whichever senator happened to be sitting in the audience, cursed several gods and goddesses, announced the impending end of the world and then passed out, with the audience attempting to wake him up to no avail. Often, Titus would only take his bow after first taking a drunken nap; judging by how many people were usually left when he did so, many of them did not realise the performance was still ongoing as he slept. As is the case with any true genius, Titus and his art seemed to be woefully misunderstood by the people of his time. An artist's suffering truly knows no end. Today, however, Titus was going to stay put and just be a member of the audience, for the first (and probably last) time in his entire life, or at least the time of his life he wasn't blacked out for. The fact Servius had taken notice of him also made him want to wait it out and see if any other reactions to his presence would surface on his part. Feeling the elegist's eyes on him along with the uncertainty that accompanied his gaze had an almost... erotic quality to it. No doubt, should Cupid will it, their meeting would not be confined simply to looks. @locutus-sum

"I've already been to Elysium tonight," Titus responded, "but they also threw me out - no, practically pulled me out of the whore I was inside when they realised I had no money left. Good service truly is a rare sight anywhere in Rome these days, huh?" he explained, snickering. Her next question made him laugh audibly. "I'll excuse your more than obvious lack of culture on account of the fact you're keeping my throat from going dry," he said, before putting on a much more grandiose demeanor. "I, Titus Epidius Bellicianus, am a thespian in the truest sense of the word! I am touched by Dionysus himself! My talent makes the audiences of the Empire quiver, the beauty of my performances causes them to swoon!" What Titus meant by the beauty of his performance was most likely actually the foul stench usually emitting from him, or rather his clothing and body, both usually caked in layers of stale sweat and other bodily fluids. His performances truly were infamous, but for all the wrong reasons. The herbalist would soon come to discover Titus' infamy, as the owner of the poppina had, unlike her, already heard much of his skill and performances before, none of it good. "Entertain? Here, with him?!" The laugh which followed and seemed to come from the deepest depths of the barman's belly was even louder than that of Titus just moments ago. The barman looked at Bestia in disbelief, then looked around the poppina, then at Bestia again. "Sure, why not? I'd like to close up for the night anyway, and anything he's got prepared will surely chase off anyone still here." The barman then made his way to a closet situated behind the bar and gave Bestia a long, old blanket riddled with holes - no doubt previously used for one of the beds the establishment offered. @Kah

While shocked at the stranger's boldness, Titus didn't try to escape the grip she had on his nose - he was not one to reject a woman's touch, and especially not if they were touching him for free, which didn't happen very often. Besides, she seemed open to going along with his instructions and Titus would truly be an idiot if he were to try and backtrack now. "Six cups of wine," the bartender, who had come to the table and remained entirely unnoticed by Titus, who was still eyeing the stranger with great interest, responded to her question. "Hey," the bartender continued, now turning to him. "If you're such good friends, why does she seem less than excited to see you?" "Oh, I know her very well, believe me," Titus responded, trying to keep up the ruse. "She always grabs my nose like this when she wants to show me she'd... like some privacy. Trust me, she'll be grabbing many other body parts tonight, all of them as big as my nose, if not bigger!" he said, laughing. Hopefully, he hadn't gone too far; the unknown woman had a rather tight grip on his nose, and he'd rather not see it split in two, as he'd need it to breathe later, when he'll most likely throw up in his sleep. "Leave us alone now, will you?! We have lots of catching up to do, we'll pay you on our way out!" With an eyeroll, the bartender turned around and made his way back behind the bar. Titus was more than intrigued by whomever he had sitting before him. He though she'd be a girl from the provinces who'd just moved to the big city and would be too scared by his words to oppose, but who she turned out to be was certainly much more interesting. "So," he said, looking at her, utterly surprised about having met a woman of such courage in the red light district, "what are you? A whore?" There was, in Titus' mind, simply no other way she could be this... manly. "While I more than appreciate a woman's touch, I'm, as you'll no doubt have figured out by now, completely and utterly broke. I'm afraid you'll have to find another client... Although I do suppose that you, given you're already paying for my drinks, could also forget about the usual fee?" he said, leaning onto the table with his elbows and looking at her with great interest. She was either drunk or completely insane, and, at least at the moment, both possibilities were rather intriguing to Titus. @Kah

It was a lukewarm spring night and Titus was up to his usual debauchery. He had been to the Elysium, where he spent whatever little money he had made during the day by begging and performing on the street for a few minutes of pleasure, and was now sat in a tavern not far from the brothel, telling the barman to put any and every drink he ordered on his tab. By now, his visits must've run his tab at this place up to at least a few hundred denarii, which was beginning to annoy the barman. "Listen, Titus; either you pay up, or you fuck off. I'm sick of letting you drink for free. This isn't a charity for penniless alcoholics, it's a tavern, and taverns need paying guests. If you're not paying, I don't want you as a guest." In his drunken stupor, Titus was only able to hear bits and pieces of what had just been said to him, but he understood enough to know what was happening. Raising his head up from the bar, where a visible wet spot had formed due to his drooling while resting his head on it, Titus slurred to the barman: "He- hey, watch your bastard mouth! I can pay, who said I couldn't pay?! I'm famous, for Apollo's sake, everyone in this fuckin' city knows me!" Being the wordsmith he was, Titus skillfully left out the fact everyone knew him because of how terrible his performances usually were, not because of his unsurpassable talent. "Titus, I'm really not kidding. Either pay your tab or leave and don't come back until you can." Titus was, despite what the redness of his face, his slurred speech or his inability to walk straight or even stand might have suggested, nowhere near done with the night, and he certainly wasn't going to let some high-and-mighty, self-important, asshole bartender ruin it for him. He looked around the bar, looking for anybody who looked either drunk or stupid enough to cover at least part of his debt. Spotted! "Hey, look at that!" Titus said while drunkenly stumbling his way towards someone sat at a table by themselves. This was either the best or the worst idea he had ever had. "I haven't seen you in forever! How've you been doing, old friend?!" he struck up a conversation with the stranger, hiccuping every few words as he spoke. He sat down next to them and hugged them, whispering into their ear as they hugged: "Pay for the drinks I've had tonight or I'll wait for you outside and break both your legs." After letting go, he leaned back in his chair and smiled at the stranger, awaiting their response.

"Ah, if they're deserving of gifts as fine as jewellery, they must be at least somewhat special, no?" Mania replied, despite the fact she already had to choke back several yawns during this exchange. Watching a mosaicist put together all the mosaics in whichever villa was being built closest to here would've probably been more thrilling and exciting to Mania than anything this man had said so far or anything he could possibly say. His mother - who, according to him, wasn't going for attention - seemed to be just as much of a bore as her son. The apple seldom falls far from the tree, they say. "If she's the more humble type," she continued her sales pitch, "a nice bronze and onyx bracelet may be a good choice." She showed him a bronze bracelets which had a pear-cut onyx embedded between two snake heads. "This bracelet is, as you can guess by the snake head details, made in the Egyptian style - it's the most popular style at the moment!" She nodded towards the bracelet she herself was wearing on her right arm, which resembled a snake slithering around it. "But if you'd like even more subtlety, a ring may be a better choice," and was probably also more likely to actually be affordable for him, she thought. Why did her father insist on keeping the shop in the Emporium Magnum?! If the shop were to relocate to one of the richer neighbourhoods, she wouldn't have to spend so much time buttering up every man who entered the store. Better still, of course, would be if the family's jewellery business went made-to-order only, but then, Mania likely wouldn't have any type of foothold in the business anymore. "Silver and carnelian, perhaps?" Hopefully, this combination was boring enough for his mother. @Chevi

It was a day much like any other for Titus. He had barely gotten any sleep, owing to the fact he had hosted a party at his insula that went on for most of the night. When he did finally get to bed, he wasn't by himself, and when his newest conquest's stamina had finally been depleted (and, by Hercules, he was enduring), the first rays of sunshine had already begun making their way into Titus' room through the cracks in the roof. Of course, the aftermath of alcohol consumption had also begun to unravel by then and a monstrous hangover had begun to develop, but, in Titus' world, fire was best fought with fire, so half a bottle of wine to get him back to at least a tipsy state quickly alleviated any ailments. By now, it was the afternoon, and the city was beginning to become more and more lively, as was customary. Titus made his way to the Forum. When there, he would usually burst out into an impromptu performance. These were always very fun to put on - not because of any money he would earn, but because of the surprise and disgust on the faces of the upper crust as they passed him and caught on to his words, which were mostly targeted at politicians and other greats of the Empire and never very nice. Today, however, he was on his way to catch someone else's performance. A poetry reading, to be exact. Not for his own enjoyment, however - it was more like field research. In the newest of his acting troupe's comedies, he was to play a desperately lovestruck poet, and who was more apt to act as inspiration for such a role than Servius Gabinius Salax? Even among fellow artists, Servius was known for his tendeny to make any girl who would give him the time of day his muse, showering her with elegies and professing his love for her for everyone to hear. Titus, in a way, admired him; it definitely took courage to so confidently walk straight into rejection time and time again. Titus had, through the grapevine, however also heard of the debauchery Servius had gotten up to in Athens and, to Titus himself, partaking in the hellenic Mysteries seemed like a dream come true. Perhaps Servus would soon attend one of Titus' parties and give him a taste of the Mysteries? He certainly wasn't bad-looking at all... As Titus arrived at the venue, it was obvious he was rather out of place. The stench of stale sweat which he radiated had gone to combat against the elegant and subtle perfumes and tinctures used by the Equites and Senators, and Titus enjoyed the souring expressions on their faces as they realised his Eau de I Haven't Even Seen Any Water in a Week very much overpowered anything that could hope to counteract it. He got comfortable in his seat and waited for the performance to begin. @locutus-sum