Kah

"Out of my way, plebians! Make a hole!" The crowd parted like waves under the prow of a ship. Stares came Bestia's way - as they always did - and vigiles nearby reached for their implements. The woman's face was a mask of frustrated determination, her hair more tangled than usual. Old leaves trailed down to the ends of her curls, and on either side, twigs laid flat against her skull. It gave the impression of an animal with its ears laid flat, or a deer with its horns growing down. Her feet and legs were muddy to the knees and elbows, and her ragged, patchwork tunic was in ribbons at the bottom. Fresh scratches and bruises covered her face and arms, dry trails of blood streaking down. Fear and disgust painted the Roman faces around her at her state. It didn't matter. Bestia came painted in the hues of earth and body for a reason, and that reason was prophecy. In the forests outside of Rome, in shelter only known to her, a message had come amidst drinking and dance. Intoxicated and thoughtless, Bestia throwing herself into shadows brought alive, she'd heard whispers. They came between the crackles of a fire heavy with offerings and the woman's ragged panting. And then, in the corner, crowned with laurel leaves and holding the bottle of wine she'd poured, she'd seen his face. Bacchus. Her god, standing there in the skin of a leopard, half-realized and half-dream. The whispers came and drowned her then, and though his lips were unmoving, Bestia knew the words were his. Now it was time to act on those words. Bestia marched up to the steps of the Senate, a white cock under her arm squawking and kicking wildly. She'd bound its legs and body with twine, but that didn't stop it from wriggling, crowing and trying to peck at her. The praeco, crowing out the day's news as he always did, trailed off to turn and look at her from his podium. "Madam!" he called. "Madam, please, Senate is in session and no man or woman is to - " "Shut it, you fat bastard!" Bestia snarled back, looking over her shoulder at the praeco. "I have a message to deliver!" @Sharpie

Name: Kah Discord: PM me.

Bestia stared angrily. She bared her teeth a little, looking like she was going to bite Titus's finger off. The rooster squawked in pain as she tightened her grip on it, fists clenching hard. If Bestia squeezed them any tighter, one might wonder if she'd break the poor bird's feet off. All the tension and irate feeling in her escaped with a long sigh. She rubbed her nose and eyes with a free hand, then held out the cock toward Titus. Bestia looked up with a sullen expression. "I get it," she said. "You deal with too much shit for this. Here, take the bird. It's yours, and I don't want to waste any more of your time. I'm not conning anyone, all right?" She'd stand there and wait for him to take it, or for him to instruct her to do something else with it. Had Titus won the argument? It was seeming so, and Bestia's posture had slumped forward in a pose of surrender. On the other hand, Bestia changed moods as often as markets changed coin, so she still might bite his finger off. @Sara

Bestia, surprised, nonetheless held out her wrist for Thessala. She watched with a curious expression, sipping at her wine. The wildling never winced, but she did frown a couple of times, making no sound save her gulping. She was used to small aches and pains, and even worse - all hurt led to a greater ecstasy in her line of work. "Really now?" Bestia answered. "I bet that makes small talk with the noblewomen a pain. They're always so interested in the strange and far-away. I don't blame them - they're all cooped up in their homes, traded around like commodities, never allowed to be rowdy.... We don't even vote, for Jupiter's sake." She sighed a dramatic sigh, then tipped her head back and downed the wine like it was fresh water. Bestia smacked her lips together and let out a quiet, "Ahhhh." She put her drink down on the nearest hard surface, which one would hope wasn't the floor. "But I digress. Politics are boring. I wonder if letting the gladiators fight a lion in the senate might liven things up a bit." @Chevi

"I make do," Bestia said. She took the wine, nodded, and tilted her head back. Despite her wild presence thus far, she was delicate and restrained with her drink. Polite, even. Her sip was quiet, she wiped her lips with the tips of her fingers, and she thanked Thessala quietly. "I'm exotic," Bestia answered next. "Or so I've been told. I couldn't tell you where, exactly, I'm from. Just that there were a lot of trees." She shrugged. It wasn't so uncommon a situation for oneself to be found in. How many slaves entered the trade as children, never remembering who they came from? How many orphans were the result of war, famine, disease, or sudden abandonment? How many people turned up somewhere they didn't expect, their mind blurred by drink? "But I've known Thrace," she said, after taking another drink. @Chevi

"Thank you, sir," Bestia said. "If I may request: could you allow his performance for tonight to pay for his drinks? I highly doubt he'll be back if he humiliates himself enough. If not, I promise to come by in the morning and work out an arrangement with you on payment. I did, after all, agree to cover his tab." Bestia wrinkled her nose. "Not my best idea, but alas." She took the blanket and turned back to the man, trotting over with the look of someone scheming. Grinning, she thrust the moth-eaten blanket into Titus's arms. "Here," she said. "The poppina has asked you to perform a parody of a senator. You have been instructed to make as much fun as possible of whoever you decide is the biggest git in the Senate. Put on this and pretend it's a dignified asshole's toga." She stepped back and waited for the calamity to unfurl. Bestia was sure that this would end up entertaining, embarrassing, or just plain sad. Who knew what chaos her "friend" would unleash on this poor poppina? (Actually, she seemed to have considered what sort, as Bestia quickly added, "And don't break anything!") @David

Titus would be in no such luck. "Ignore him," Bestia said. "He sometimes comes to me for herbs when his manliness leaves him. We are business associates, nothing more. We were supposed to be discussing work, until this moron decided he'd get smashed first." Her grip on his nose didn't let go. "You'll be paid before we leave, trust me." She then waited for the owner to leave, which allowed Bestia the pleasure of throwing Titus's arm off. Or, at least, as best as she could. Even with her ropy muscles and a limber body capable of scaling cliffs, he was bigger than her. All of this came with a bemused face, and an arched eyebrow when Titus finished rambling. "I stock the menageries," was her dry reply, "and the women's larders. Go to Elysium if you want a fuck. No, we're going to do good, honest work tonight. How good are you at acting?" Bestia didn't frequent Rome's venues of entertainment. Her haunts were its markets, streets and alleyways. The most lively place she remembered being was the Forum Boarium, and the vigiles had kicked her out. What this all meant was that this Titus was unknown to her, and therefore, another drunk nobody. The woman released Titus's nose. Attempting to hop to her feet, Bestia cleared her throat, adjusting her poor clothes as best she could. If not stopped, she'd start striding over to where she saw the owner go. Clasping her hands together, Bestia asked, "Good sir, would you permit I and my acquaintance to entertain your poppina? I promise no damage will be done, though I encourage you to encourage others to throw things at his face. We would like to attempt a parody." She paused for a moment. "Oh, and an old sheet you wouldn't mind giving to us for a fake toga." @David

In response, the stranger shot out a small hand to grab at Titus's nose. If he didn't jerk back or swat away at her calloused fingers, she would grab and threaten to twist his snout off. Leaning in with hard eyes, messy hair all tangled with things of the wilderness, Bestia smiled. "Threaten me again," she hissed, "and I will break your fucking nose off. Now sit in your chair, half-wit, and let me handle this nonsense before you show people how much more of a pot-shagging fuckwit you are." Bestia looked over and snapped her fingers at the poppina's keeper. "Good owner! Good sir!" she called. "Tell me, how much has this man had to drink tonight?" She put on her most winning smile, which wasn't saying much. Her wolf-fur pallium was dust-covered and ragged, sodden at the bottom where it dragged in the mud. It was shoddily held together by a rusted pin that'd seen better days. The shabby, half-stitched tunic beneath it was threadbare around its hems. There was a fair covering of dust and smears up and down her body, interspersed with scars new and old. The freshest looked to be on the wrist of the hand that had shot out, resembling the bite of something dog-like. @David

"Because you didn't ask for other options!" Bestia snapped. "If you didn't want to provide the wine, I would find water from a fountain, or use my own blood! If you didn't want to give me bread, I would've begged for it or saw if a Patrician would spare some!" The woman stomped through the muck of the street, who-knew-what splattering her legs. She sped up and aimed to swing around in front of the vigile, aiming to jab a finger at (or into) his chest. Baring her teeth, Bestia spat, "And the offering of chicken is because I'm willing to share such a gift! Unlike what the people of this gods-damned twice-forsaken city believe, some people [i]still[/i] do that! And, unlike them, I do actually do all of this out of respect for you lot, even though we both know very well some of you are out fucking around in more ways than one!" People were stopping to stare. Hands went over the ears of children. Coin was swapped between two fisher-folk betting on how long it would take before Titus beat her. A water-bearer rolled her eyes, incredulous at the display. Bestia fumed and glared, fists clenched but held out at her sides. @Sara

"I need no bath!" Bestia said, giggling cheerfully. "I'll just scrape some dirt off and splash my face in the Tiber. Baths are too noisy. I only have them when I need to. Romans make cleaning oneself so [i]complicated[/i]!" Bestia trotted in and made herself at home, sitting on the nearest hard surface. It needn't be a chair, but it could be a stool, a chest, a tipped-over basket - if it fit, she would sit. She watched Thessala in silence, canting her head to one side. Messy tangles of brown-black hair swayed into her face, and drops of blood dribbled down her wrist. Her hands rested on her knees. "What is it that you do when you're not conquering hearts or trying to rip them out in the Coliseum?" Bestia asked. "Preparing for the next war with Troy? No, wait - that's the Greeks. Silly me." She giggled again. @Chevi

Sorry for the late reply to this - I've been away, unfortunately. :p I would be in favour of a thread between them. Where do you think they could meet?

"You have a connection with the Gods then?" Bestia nodded with vigour. "You're an honest, hard-working woman?" Bestia nodded again. "Mhm-hm!" "The fauna and flora and...chickens, I grant you, might be honest." "They are!" Bestia insisted. "I go the fields and pick the plants myself! The animals I catch alone, with my bare hands! I do only the best I can for my customers!" And then Titus called her readings "horseshit". Bestia scowled, looking ready to launch into another tirade. The mean face disappeared when Titus asked her to prove herself, and Bestia stood there for a moment. One had to wonder if there was whiplash from how fast her mood seemed to change with the situation. Then, she said, "Of course!" and collected herself. She cradled the chicken in her arms, among her furs. "Gladly, my good Vigile! For you, I charge nothing. All I ask is that you give me bread to divine with, and enough clear space that I can let the chicken work." She began to walk forward, as if to start searching for the latter. She stopped and then added, "And some wine or water, for a libation. If not, I can use other means." @Sara

"A bandage for what?" Bestia asked. She glanced down at herself to inspect for injury - oh. That. Bestia lifted up her wrist and inspected it, following after Thessala. "You can get a bandage if you want," Bestia said, "but I'm sure it'll heal up just fine." The woman held the cut to her nose, sniffed it, and then gave it a lick. The blood disappeared, and a slave tending to some amphorae nearby had to stop and stare. Bestia flashed him a grin and an eyebrow waggle, and the young man quickly hurried along. "This looks like a sturdy place," Bestia commented. "Little dusty, but it can't be helped. Especially at this time of year." She glanced at her cut again, slowing to marvel at the pillars and tiling. It was a plain place, not a particularly special part of the building they walked through, but Bestia took it in. Thoughtful humming accompanied a swipe of her finger across some graffiti. "This place has seen many," she noted. "Scrawls, all over the place. Almost as many as on the walls on Rome. When do the tributes to Vibia pop up?" She realized she was falling behind. From where she bowed to examine the writing, she hurried to join Thessala. "Some things I don't recognize, too," she said. "Greek letters, but then strange shapes. Unless they're supposed to be gladiators comparing their 'equipment'." Bestia held up her fingers to make quotes, pallium batting at Thessala's side. @Chevi

"Just keep off the bloody streets. I know of you." "Oh?" the woman asked, arching her eyebrows. "And how do you know of me? Have you seen me peddling? Are you interested in my wares?" Her pleasant expression vanished when Titus asked her about her "scamming". Scamming? Scamming?! "Who in Hades has said that I'm scamming?!" the woman said, voice pitching high. The request for her name was ignored. "I catch fauna for menageries and food! I bring herbs into Roma for the sick and the hungry! I read the birds for anyone who asks me! I do not scam people, my good vigile - I ply an honest trade!" Her voice dipped into something sounding hurt. Her eyes plead with Titus as a dog might with its master for a bone. "I beseech you, good Titus of the Vigiles! Please, listen to me! My reputation has been besmirched! This is all a mistake! Allow me to show you the honesty of my work, somehow!" She swung the chicken off her shoulder and held it up. "I would give you this cock for free as proof of my word, not a bribe! I would read your fortune and give possession of him unto you! Please, let me clear my name somehow - if not through augury, then something else!" @Sara

Bestia moved forward. First came the todd off of her neck, the vixen held by the legs and put to the side on the ground. The female kicked and flailed as she sensed freedom, Bestia ignoring her. The woman held the todd's legs tight as she undid the rope, deftly pulling loose a series of bowties and knots. It tried at once to stand and flee, only for the woman to grab its feet, swing it back and forth, and shake it with vigour. The animal stilled for a moment, long enough for her to pin it. "Next, the mouth," she said in a murmur. Her free hand reached up toward the todd's neck, the male squirming and fighting all the way. She grabbed the edge of its scruff, her fingers pulling back until she felt a vein. Bestia pinched it, and the animal went limp. Swift as she could, Bestia pulled the rope free, tongue sticking out of her mouth as she did. When that was done, she took her new free hand and clamped it on the todd's throat and held it up. "Now!" The todd was tossed in, flopping like cloth. Its eyes had rolled up a bit in its head, but the movement seemed to rouse it. As it weakly lifted up its snout to sniff, Bestia repeated the process with the vixen. It struggled and kicked more, necessitating Bestia to do the neck-pinch on it twice to still it. The small woman muttered a curse under her breath as its sharp nails caught the edge of her wrist. "Again!" Bestia called. Once more came a two-handed toss, and the vixen ended up in the same position as her counterpart. Bestia stood up, brushed the mud off the front of her pallium, and wiped her hands against one another. Blood had begun to bead on the scratch on her wrist, but she either didn't notice or care. It was a flesh wound, anyway - no different than a scrape against rock. @Chevi OOC: I sped the process along a bit to keep with the narrative, but you can have something happen if you want. I can go back and edit/cut off at some point to fit it in.