Kah

A drink? "A drink!" She smiled even wider now. "How lovely an offer! Yes, of course, good lady. All business is best discussed over a good drink. It is the way of senators and others who run things." She wrapped the foxes in the excess of her pallium, holding them close to her heart. The direction the Amazon was nodding in was familiar. The peddler had tried to sell beasts in front of the Great Coliseum before, only to be laughed at or told to leave. Sometimes, the request wasn't made politely, and sometimes, someone lost a finger over it. (Because of her small and frantically-struggling animals, of course.) "I'm Thessala. What is your name?" the Amazon asked. Bestia looked thoughtful, humming as her eyes went heavenward. "A name...hm...well, to most, it's 'damn crazy woman' or 'dirt-bridled maniac'. I'm fine with either. But if we're going to do business - and business must be formal, as always - you may call me Bestia. Yours is the far prettier name, by any measure." Bestia. Of course a wildling-looking thing like her would have a name that meant "beast", or in worse terms, "a brute". But who under the gods' merciful watch would name their child Bestia? @Chevi

"Me, good woman?" The strange seller put one hand over her heart, eyes wide with surprise and lips pressed together. "I am hardly interesting. But I am open to persuasion." She held out the vixen, who dangled limp as her eyes darted around. "These are not beasts for the arena, but they do look lovely in a garden, truly. They are clever creatures that have a sense of humour. They will snatch things from travelers and run cackling all the way home. As they are wild-caught, they will be shy but fiery, and need time and bribing with food. It is best they are kept in an outdoor space, for unfortunately, foxes do stink." She made a face. "I found that out the hard way when I first kept one by my fire. But I digress! If you are not interested in them as pets, they are good for furs. An exotic sacrifice at a temple, to be sure. You could simply let them go, and see where they wander off to. They sometimes come into town and forage scraps thrown to the streets, so they might stay here. All roads lead to Roma, even for animals." She waited for a response to her pitch. Or any response, really. Even if it was a simple, "You're mad," and the Amazon turning to walk away. The pedller had experienced a lot of that, in her time. @Chevi

"Foxes, foxes, foxes for the dominus! The domina! The paterfamili - " She stopped abruptly and looked up. Where there was nothing before in her way, there was now a tall woman. She was an Amazoian beauty, with her hair wrapped in trinkets and her eyes lined with kohl. The peddler's mouth hung open for a moment, but snapped shut as a finger was pointed at her wares. The woman shrugged and gave a happy grin. "Is that not the way of most beasts?" she said, slowly spreading her arms wide with a dramatic flair. Her pallium swayed, giving the impression of an actor striking a pose. "Just look at the creatures they bring out for damnatio bestiae! The lion was not made to heel as the hound was, yet Rome still leashes them. The elephant was not meant to be ridden like a horse, yet Carthaginians saddle them. Even when we raise them ourselves in captivity, they still may turn wild and bear their fangs against us. Yet people still have them, and people endure!" She made a wide sweep toward the passing crowd as she said this. A mother with a small child, startled, ushered her toddler away. The woman's grin only grew wider, and she brought the vixen to hold at her breast. It made a contentious sound as she bundled it up with the other fox in a furry fold. "Now, are you interested in the vixen? The todd? Perhaps both, in case you want them to rear cubs?" She stood up a little straighter, and looked most assured. @Chevi

February 21st, 77 CE The stitched-together, wolf-fur pallium wrapped her in clumsy warmth. The garment was barely held together by a rusting pin she'd found on a road on the way to Roma. It was far too big for the petite woman, falling on her in great, heavy-looking folds. Her boots and hem shuffled through the wet slush of the balmy late winter, leaving a dragging trail. People stopped and stared as she paced in front of the Porticus Divorum, circling its grand fountain. Her hair was wild and tangled, with dead twigs and old, crumbling leaves wound about its strands. A scabbing scratch slashed one cheek, half-hidden by a smear of drying mud. Her voice was high and carrying as she called out, free hand raised with something red-furred and struggling. It was a fox. A small, wiry red vixen, to be exact. Its eyes glared with indignance, and a small rope was bound around its spittle-lined jaws. Another length had been wrapped around its ankles to restrain it like a lamb, from which the woman held it aloft. Around her neck was another fox, lighter orange and frightened-looking. Tied in the same place as the animal waved about, it hung like a living necklace, wiggling on occasion. Some of those passing outside the Porticus couldn't help but stop and stare. Others hurried by, glancing back with concerned looks. "Foxes, foxes, foxes for your menagerie!" the woman howled into the street. "Foxes for the garden, to chase away pests! Foxes for the house, to frighten away rats! Curiosities for the wealthy, to leash and lead in opulence! Pelts soft as silk, to keep warm in the high mountains! Flesh for fancy dinners, to keep your meal entertaining! Foxes, foxes, foxes for the menagerie!" She'd been at this since the early morning. Other than taking a break to dip her hands into the fountain and drink, she hadn't stopped. One might wonder if the prefects were going to come out and tell her to take her hawking elsewhere. @Chevi

BESTIA 25 | 17th December 52 CE | female | Freedwoman (allegedly) | Witch, Plant-Gatherer, Eccentric | Who knows? | Original | Sibel Kekilli (Image Source) Personality. What can one say about Bestia? She is strange, outgoing, and puts on an air of playful mysticism. She fancies herself a nymph in all but name, and climbs rocks and trees without a care if her garments tear. She can be frenetic and aggressive, toying and silly, and wraps it all up in a beaming, carefree smile. Eager to surprise or delight, horrify or disgust, she's a sucker for poking fun and getting strong reactions out of people. It's hard to say how much of this is her original personality or her trying to emulate Bacchus, her patron god. When matters of ritual or business are concerned, Bestia can become far more down to earth...to an extent. Bestia is passionate in her rituals, snarling oaths of vengeance or bellowing out hymns. The fear and awe she tries to invoke in others is something she takes seriously, seen as a sacred duty. To be an avatar of the divine is her goal, her calling, and she believes the world could use some more zealousness. Bestia can be dismissive of more stoic or low-key personalities, as a result, and it gets her in trouble. She also has problems with personal space, especially if she wants to be intimidating. When it comes to her past, Bestia is tight-lipped. She'd rather it remain a mystery and object of speculation. Appearance Bestia is a dainty little thing at five feet even. Her hair is long, dark and curly, falling to a few inches below her shoulder blades. She has sharp, dark eyes, and a face full of smile- and laugh-lines. Her skin has an olive touch to it, and is worn and somewhat leathery from the sun. Her hands and feet bear the callouses of work and hard travel, and are often covered in dirt. There are faint scars all over her, with some noticeable slashes and old bites on her lower limbs. She dresses in a plain, worn chiton, which is ragged and torn at its edges; in winter, this may be supplemented by a huge cloak of wolf fur and some boots. She's always covered in grass stains, and twigs and flowers are frequently tangled in her hair. A smoky odor lingers around her, suggesting someone who's often in an enclosed space with a fire. Latin and Galatian are both her mother tongues, though she has an obvious Galatian accent. She also can understand a little Gaulish due to Galatian's relation to it. Family Father: Unknown Mother: Cispia, a household slave Siblings: Unknown Spouse: None Children: None Extended family: None that she knows of, but she's heard of an aunt (or possibly grand-aunt) on her mother's side, who was someone named "Locusta". Her father might also have relations, but she knows nothing about him. Other: None History From where did Bestia come from? Did she spring from earth and loam, or sand and sea, as the nymphs of legend before her had? Did she come into existence from the tears of a god, or the breath of the divine settling onto a statue? Neither is true, but she'll never admit it. She's instead the daughter of a household slave and some nameless man - likely one of the slave's masters. She hails from somewhere in what would come to be known as Turkey, from either Asia, Lycia or Galatia. Freed in 73 CE, she's made the long way to Rome, traveling up through Eurasia and down into Italia. According to Bestia, she was a simple hair and perfume slave before her freedom. Into slavery she was born on Saturnalia, and was raised by a stern but clever woman: Cispia. She wanted for little, though her larger-than-life personality suggests otherwise. Her mistress was good to her (though she sneers a bit as she says this), and her work was (relatively) free of drama. Bestia earned her way into liberty, she says, by being humble and doing what she was told until her master died. Old age claimed the kindly mistress, Bestia says, and Bestia had plans to remain in her house. She was even thinking of serving the mistress's three children: a trio of lovely and upstanding daughters. But then, of course, the villa burned down one night. How a shame it was, Bestia says, that the stable boy was so careless with his lanterns and the hay. Near everyone in that villa either burned alive or severely injured. The prefects were too slow in bringing water, and the flames were fed by tapestries from every wall. It was a skeleton by the time morning came, and what use is there to serve a skeleton? (All of this explained as Bestia shrugs and smiles, of course. There's a twinkle in her eye, something predatory and dark, but it might be for show. She can't be that crazy, helping to burn down a villa to engineer her own freedom.) Now Bestia lives on the outskirts of Rome, having arrived back in the summer of 76 CE. She’s started coming into the poorer areas to hawk herbs she's gathered. She sells flowers, too, and caught wild game, and the odd animal she's managed to get on a leash. Her home is impermanent, with Bestia sleeping in ditches, forest clearings, and in caves in rocky hillsides. She sometimes pops up when a Bacchanalia goes off, partying along with other wild maidens. She claims to have been indoctrinated into their ways by priestesses on the road. Any further details about such she's tight-lipped on, but she likes to give a scandalous hint or two. Something about an equite being too uptight, and his very libertine wife.... Kah | GMT + 0 | PM @Gothic