Senatus Starters

At first it had just appered to be a deer, a creature who was common among the forest as the light faded and dawn approached. Her serpentine scales on the back of her neck send a shiver down a spine, a warning that all was not as it seemed and the deer snapped it's head to see her and she could see the other head the sprouted from it's neck. A two headed deer and one of its mouths was dripping with blood, a dark red stained the leaves underneath it and there was an unknown evil in its eyes. A terrified scream had left the other head and it seemed a possession had taken place, running towards her at full charge, she aimed one of her poison laced arrows and it wasn't enough to stop it. It reared up to attack and she stabbed a dagger into it's chest, the beast collapsing on top of her and withering with steam and a scream from hell. Shaking the disgusting creature off of her. "What the hell was that?!"

She's drinking because she has to deal with the damned mortal coil, grief doesn't just leave the lungs after a month -- it weakens the heart and it makes nightmares come in frequent doses. She can feel it, this swoop in her gut -- a sense of divine intuition and it's as if the Inferno has disappeared. She catches Micheal's eyes from across the bar but utters in an audible tone. "There is no more heaven or hell." Confusion mars the lines of her face.

Juno had carved out a place of affection for the spirits in her obsidian heart, affection had never come easy for her -- to bind yourself to another meant a surrendering of self and for too long it had been a man's world. The modern world nauseated her at times, what good were men if they weren't screaming? Her father who wasn't good for much was good for enticing terror at least. The spirits that haunted Rome were fragments and manifestations of the soul, emotions and energy that held on long past expiration. "Are you excited for the upcoming mud wrestling tournament?" an inflection in her voice that meant she held the event with contempt and amusement.

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A low mist swirled around June's ankles as she gazed at the archway that separated the Fairy forest into beyond, one step through the Archway and if the invitation was there, they could enter Audulë where she knew her father was -- she had yet to meet him or see if his features that she had always been compared too did truly match her own. Her mother tried to explain June's parentage to her but she hadn't known the fey so the only she could thinly remember were the physical fey features.

One could reason that the mist that seemed to swirl lowly around her came from the pathway but it mirrored June's indecision and uncertainty, a state of mind she was not prone to but a manipulation of weather had followed her everywhere. "Have you ever stepped through the gateway?"

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"Mornin'," Oakley fixed himself a cup of what had to be the worst coffee in the world before he looked towards the window. "looks like thuh snow is finally startin' ta let up." His drawl crept out in a faint hope that the person he was talking to even spoke English. Oakley's attempt at Italian was worse than this hotel's coffee, and that was saying something. They didn't look too lost when he spoke, but this weather wasn't something that the terror was at all used to. He also didn't think the Romans were used to it, but the outlaw had never known much about geometry. Oakley gestured towards the empty seat; some company was always better than none, "Ya mind?"

As Ryder walked through the museum, he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for all the lost time he had spent in the forests of Rome. The memories of his past were still vivid in his mind, but the present reality was a stark reminder of how much he had missed out on over the years. Despite being the subject of many urban legends, Ryder was not sure if any of the labels that had been slapped on him truly fit his identity. He had been called a ranger, a lost soul, a tortured boy, and even a satanist by mortals and supernatural beings alike. However, he knew that these labels were merely attempts to make sense of his otherworldly presence, and he was not sure if they truly described who he was.

He knew that he still possessed the presence of a witch, even though he had no spells left to cast. But instead of dwelling on his past abilities, he focused on his earnest interest in history. The museum was perfect for him to delve deeper into the world he had missed out on for so many years. As he walked, he took in the exhibits with a sense of wonder, absorbing as much knowledge as he could about the events and people that had shaped the world he found himself in. He marveled at the intricate details of ancient artifacts, the stories behind the paintings and sculptures, and the significance of each era he had missed.

Despite the overwhelming sense of loss that he felt for the years he had missed, Ryder was grateful for the opportunity to learn and grow in this new world. He knew he had much to catch up on, but he was determined to make the most of every moment he had left.

But it didn't look like he could buy a smartphone here.

"Hey- do you know where the gift shop is? I'm kind of turned around here."

She wasn't really welcome anywhere, that much the Follower understood. A Liche, a daemonfey, a leech stuck with an archfiend's soul within. Without looking at the other guests, Priya absentmindedly drank from her cup of blood, hoping nobody would notice the apparent odor vampire blood could have for non-leeches. Noting she could really remember. The less she thought about the party, about actually managing the whole thing and making sure everything runs smoothly and without bumps, the better Priya managed to just get over herself for once and enjoy what was going on around her. "After everything we ought to at least enjoy ourselves a little bit right?" she emptied her cup in one go and looked at the person next to her, "come on, a dance won't hurt?" the Liche furrowed her brows together.

She had lived mostly as a trapped bird so one would think that she would spend every day out in the meadows basking in the summer sun but her skin never grew warm and she never felt the heat from the sun and so a comfort of reading would always find her, she was trying out life as a minimum wage employee after being a queen and was cozied up in an arm chair by the window while on shift, the store was always more quiet after the holiday season. Anyone that tried the five finger discount would feel the clamp of the stone dragon book ends nab their fingers, an extension of Galatea. Nearing footsteps made her lift her head and she arched a brow upon their approach. "Anything I can help you find?" Snow fell quietly outside the window, covering Rome in a white blanket.

The holidays were difficult, it was a lonely time and she wasn't alone -- she had been adopted, there was a family that found her and yet the seats that stood empty were still loud with their absence. Her brother and her parents ought to be here and it was never going to be fair that she had to go on without them, at least she had stopped death and buried herself along with them. This time she sat on the opposite side of the bar where she normally stood, getting out to watch the drag queens perform a holiday number of let the ball drop. "I'll buy you a shot if you do five finger fillet." A wicked grin on her face.

It's not quite hunger, what drives her out into the Otherworld. Not quite. It's the desire itching on her gums, the saliva pooling beneath her tongue as she salivates to bring others within herself in the most intimate way she knows. She has expelled most of her arsenal, aside from her grandmother and a few necessities, and she feels empty. She wants and wants and wants and WANTS AND WANTS AND WANT. But she cannot consume. Not in Rome. Not when she has yet to fully map the political intricacies of this empire she has stumbled upon. The Otherworld, however? Open and wide, and so very dangerous after the last year? It's free game, a hunting ground for her pleasure alone. Nimet doesn't quite stumble back into Rome— Not with her maela still with her, not with her millennia of careful training — But she still gracefully falls from the Otherworld portal, landing on her feet as she hums a musical's tune and sways on the balls of her feet. Her stomach is full of demon flesh, quite the delicacy that is no longer in shortage, but she has not brought any of them into herself just yet. She needs her wits about her— even as she misses the voices and the comfort they provide with the knowledge that they will never leave her weather they want it or not. Still, she has been fed, and she has managed to avoid a mess, all but a few droplets of blood dripping down her chin to match the bloodied palms that she admires as a little giggle escapes her lips.

Ariston had stumbled out of a Roman afterclub, glitter dusting his shoulders and he was still riding out the drugs in his system – the sunlight burned and he wasn’t ready to return to the Pyramid just yet so he found a park bench to ride his comedown out. Flower petals drifted on the wind and tangled with the leaves that ghosted through the air, he felt the sun on his face and an ache within his heart began because the World was telling him that things were not as they were meant to be – he still felt the call of Old Magic but giving in to his druidic ways always reminded him of how much he disappointed those he loved. He lit a cigarette and coughed because it felt like his lungs were being strangled, the roots of old trees revibrated through his chest. His gaze met the treeline of New Rome and he was saved by the skin of his wolf pelt but the rest of Rome had been shut off, it was a miracle that the city driven people still had this park to be in touch with the Earth that held them. “Gorgeous day, isn’t it? Do you hear that music too?”

Vampires and the meatsuits they inhabited were little more than an infectious disease, a plague that took hold of a soulless husk and called it home. As it happened, Pestilence was quite fond of plagues. If nothing else the vampires were entertaining, in his time he'd managed to entice a few into feeding from him - to both disastrous and humorous effect. This party thing was meant to be exclusive, a homecoming for Pluto - Dumah remembered when the originals arrived in this realm, journeyed from some far off realm. Now look at them: Gods among vermin and insects, good for them.

"Does everything here have blood in it?" Dumah asked as he grabbed one of the drinks off the counter and took a whiff of it. He half expected to find one of his siblings here, but at present it seemed they were either too prudish or too chicken shit to turn up. He took a swig, "Yeah, that has blood in it." Pestilence had enough of the vile, mortal ichor pumping through his veins he didn't much feel like adding more to his system. As it happened, these leeches had given him an idea, but this night was meant to be fun - raunchy even. With any luck he'd meet someone that could help him with the dilemma he was facing.

Air didn’t taste the way that she was used too, her lungs had become burnt from so many years spent inside the Inferno and her life before hell were nothing more than a far away dream. Enough to keep her inspired to keep clawing her way out of the pit, unlikely companions that invigorated her to dream for more. She had been poisoned long ago and as she walked through the streets of Rome, the neon advertisement that lit her path made her hungry, envious to devour it all. She had a never-ending desire to dance, swaying with her hips and conjuring all of the demons that kept others chained with a swivel of her hands in the air. She had danced by moonlight and in the darkest of nights lit only by candlelight, she had arrived in the outside alley and she was still adjusting to the current world. A smoke in her hands and she never felt right unless she was sinning. “Got a light?”

location: mercuralia festival grounds