#manemxs

@manemxs

“Was it really that tough of a discussion?” Anysus eyed the Roman with derision. Quite like his childhood but against the image he currently liked displayed, Marcus looked disheveled and as wary as a deer. Anysus could not care less about the Romans, but he was almost certain the clothing was off.

He’d stopped attending any minor meetings a long time ago. It was always Roman envoys making impossible demands and spewing insults, even as they were losing. Not only were they boring, they had been in Italy for too long. Anysus enjoyed riding with Mago instead and often avoided the Barcids as much as possible. He didn’t fight that much, after all.

           ‘    was  that  your  dreadful  brother  again  ?   ’      upon  settling  down  on  his  chair  in  the  triclinium  ,      lucullus  sees  the  last  glimpse  of  a  toga  vanishing     &    it  wouln’t  surprise  him  at  all  if  it  were  her  brother.     SHE  and  her  siblings  ,    they’re  all  of  the  same  intolerable  kind   ;       what  on  earth  drove  him  so  far  to  marry  a  claudia  out  of  all  women  ?          

Hephaestion can’t seem to meet Alexander’s eyes, and he’s wringing his hands together nervously. He’s already made the decision to do this; stopping now would be more curious than what he actually has to say.

apollo and his 5'5" ass: (ง'̀-‘́)ง (ง'̀-'́)ง meet me in the pIT HERMES

“I can’t fight you. You are miniature.”

               She opens her tent’s flap ever so slightly, peeking through and catching a glimpse of the backs of the Greek soldiers. As soon as they are fully out of her sight, she turns around to face other women ( girls - most of them have not yet grown into women ). NORMALLY she would tell them that they are gone, that he is gone, for the day - something that never ceased to help them RELAX, even if only slightly. Today, however, is different - she has thought of something new, something that would hopefully have a significant effect on them as well as him. I will not be gone for long, I promise, she mouths the words silently in Anatolian before she leaves the tent.

               Once outside, she heads towards their tent. She doesn’t need to look where she is going, for she would remember the way even in her dreams - that’s how many times she has walked up there to spend time with Patroclus and comfort him while his--- his--- she can’t remember the word she’s overheard some of the men use. She STOPS when there is a feet of distance between herself and the tent.     ❛  Patroclus?  ❜     She calls out, though it sounds more like a question. She isn’t, after all, sure that he is still inside the tent - he might have left at the same time as Achilles. He might have even gone with him - a thought she has to consider, even though she does not like the idea at all.

- rps the personification of rome

- how much more despicable could you possibly be