Jump to content

Who Are You Calling Drunk?!


Recommended Posts

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.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

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

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

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

Link to comment
Share on other sites

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

Edited by Kah
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Posted (edited)

"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

Edited by David
Link to comment
Share on other sites

"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

Edited by Kah
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Please sign in to comment

You will be able to leave a comment after signing in



Sign In Now
 Share

×
×
  • Create New...