#spurius

ALL THE CHARR? whew okay here goes; putting behind a cut bc maybe suggestive/NSFW-ish

ask post here - 👥 What is my muse’s sexual & romantic orientation?

ALL THE CHARR AGAIN \o/ putting behind a cut bc definitely NSFW

ask post here - character list here

🍷 How far would they go on a first date?

Oh yeah, I wrote this a little while ago for a new friend of mine who liked Gnaeus and Spurius, and I might as well put it here for the sake of having everything RSP in the same place.

Under the cut even though it’s relatively short.

I wrote more shit about Marcus. Take it as you will.

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When Marcus walked in on Gnaeus and Spurius kissing in their shared squad room, his first reaction was to snap “How dare you!”

The kiss was frozen, and then the two bodies separated with a kind of agonizing slowness, replacing intimacy with tightly crossed arms from Spurius and the most awkward of ceiling inspections by Gnaeus. Marcus stood in the doorway, an immense scowl distorting his square face, levelling an accusing finger at the pair.

“What do you think you’re doin’?”

“What does it look like?” mumbled Gnaeus, rubbing at his elbow. “Seems pretty godsdamn obvious t’me...”

“I don’t even see what business it is of yours in any case,” Spurius grated, hugging himself tighter, eyes snapping and cheeks burning. “What we do in our own time is our own decision-”

“It fuckin’ well is my business,” growled Marcus. “I gotta live with you assholes!”

“It doesn’t change a damn thing!” Gnaeus said, finally transferring his gaze away from the ceiling. “’Snot like anythin’ changed before when you didn’t know-”

“Shut up,” said Marcus, his tone clipped and tight. “And fuck off, th’ both of you!”

“You can’t tell us to leave our own room-”

“Shut up, Spurius, an’ fuck off!”

Snapping his mouth shut, Spurius directed a glare at Marcus that could and should have melted the flesh from his bones in an instant and strode from the room,  a picture of offended dignity. Gnaeus followed it up with a look that reminded anyone on the receiving end why he was tipped to end up a Centurion and followed him out, slamming the door behind them.

Marcus breathed out, sat down, and fixed his gaze on the opposite wall.

Well.

On the negative side, he had just very much offended two of the only seven human beings he could meaningfully count as friends (he included Decimus in this count as a charity, on the basis that at least the man could be occasionally amusing).

On the positive side, he knew he was not alone. And that knowledge was infuriating.

He’d spent weeks worrying about his growing feelings, weeks avoiding Lucius’ eyes and the hopefulness therein that had been gradually eclipsed by puzzled hurt. Weeks of wrestling with himself and the conviction that to give in and be found out was to face ridicule and be ostracized at once- and all of it could have been avoided if he’d just known about the other two. How dare they keep it secret, how dare they!

He scowled at the wall, and firmly pushed aside the thought that they’d very likely been afraid of the same thing he was afraid of, and that his reaction had probably convinced them that they would be facing disgrace in very short order.

He scowled at the wall some more.

He did not, now, know what to do.

His anger at Gnaeus and Spurius was familiar, and therefore comforting. He spent some time retreading the ground, prodding himself back to displeasure if uncomfortably reasonable thoughts began to intrude. It would be very easy, he thought, to do nothing, and stay angry, and leave things as they were. Lucius might be hopeful and hurt, but he would survive, and if he said nothing then Gnaeus and Spurius, too, would relax. They might be more unwilling than before to socialise with him, but then he had never really been a core member of the group; he was the one on the edge who grumped about things and was the butt of jokes, not the one making the jokes or organising the gambling or at the centre of conversation. He could easily survive being given the cold shoulder, especially if only by two of them. And it would only be two of them, because surely they would not tell any of the others...

It would be so easy.

He cleared his throat, and nodded to himself. It would be easy, and it would be right. It would not complicate things any further, and everything would settle back down. He was not cut out for softer emotions; it would do no good to indulge them.

He nodded again, stood up, and strode out.

1. What do they like to talk about?

Plays, perhaps oddly. Gnaeus never really got to see any, being a rural lad, but Spurius grew up in Rome and going to see plays was a bit of a guilty pleasure for him whenever he could, so he often recounts the stories for Gnaeus. He can't resist passing comment, usually disparagingly, on the characters' actions or the ability of the actors in whatever show memory he's working off, but Gnaeus enjoys the asides almost as much as the actual stories. Spurius initially got rather cross that his comments made Gnaeus laugh, but he fairly soon realised that it wasn't malicious and no fun was being poked, so he's got quite relaxed about it and occasionally even aims to make Gnaeus laugh.

Other times they talk a bit about their pasts, or Spurius helps Gnaeus with his writing- legionaries are required to be able to read and write to a basic level, but Gnaeus has always been somewhat in awe of Spurius' pretty penmanship and ability to, you know, spell and stuff, and Spurius is willing enough to tutor him a little. Though he's probably not the best teacher in the world, to be honest.

2. What don’t they talk about?

What exactly the fuck their relationship actually is, because neither of them know and both of them assume the other doesn't want to talk about it, so they end up pussyfooting around and not knowing what to expect of each other.

 What'll happen after their term of service is up is another forbidden topic, because Gnaeus will probably take the land that's often given to retired legionaries and set up his own farm again, but Spurius has always planned to go back to his job in the imperial palace and maybe take up politics if he can.

They also don't talk about what might happen if one of them gets killed. They are soldiers in a more-or-less at-least-a-bit active war zone, after all.

23. Each of the pair from the other’s point of view

Well, I asked them both to draw the other, and this is what I got back...

First off, Spurius as seen by Gnaeus:

And now, Gnaeus as seen by Spurius (who is, while not wonderful, apparently the better artist...):

36. Who handles spiders?

Rather unsurprisingly, given that he grew up on a farm, Gnaeus is entirely unbothered by spiders and oftentimes won't even bother to move them unless he thinks they're going to get squashed or drowned or otherwise damaged. Perhaps slightly more surprisingly, Spurius isn't bothered by them either, though he will move them regardless of what's going on, especially if they're on him.

Greed:a headcanon about something your character hordes or collects

Aulus, my Roman Intelligence/Cake Core, collects recipes for baked goods. From anywhere and everywhere. He doesn't write them down, he keeps them in his head- his memory for them is absolutely astonishing. He is also entirely unafraid to ask people for them, and has recipes from just about everywhere he's been- including from conquered people.

The only exception to his willingness to ask for recipes is when one of his squadmates is nearby, in which case he will clam up faster than a...a... really annoyed clam. They don't know he could bake, and he suspects they would be highly annoyed that they've been struggling with making shoddy bread for some time while he's had his own, perfectly made stash all that time.

Envy:a headcanon about your character's secret desires and jealousies

Spurius is actually hopelessly jealous of Gnaeus' apparent ability to not care- to let jokes and things wash over him, or join in, and generally not to be bothered about things like misused grammar and untidiness in their room and Decimus' incessant jabbering. He would very much like to be able to cultivate not being bothered about things, because at the moment all those things annoy him, and he can't not mention it, and it makes the others laugh at him or look at him funny.

I cannot believe I just did this, but that's friendship for you. My first ever piece of smutty smut to accompany TwoBrokenMirror's latest Roma Sub Porta piece.

Can you guess what she wrote about? Can you? :D

Anyhow, I decided to do this using pencil tools. I wanted to create a sort of rushed, rough piece of work. I felt that would compliment the subject matter of her fic a little more.

Woah Indigo, that was quick! =P Can I even remember the prime numbers shoot... (newsflash I had to google them)

I'm going to come completely out of the left field and do this for Spurius- Roman Fact Core, if you remember.

What is their weapon of choice, and what weapon do they dislike using the most?

Like most standard-grade legionaries he uses the gladius (a short sword, best used for stabbing) and the pilum (a javelin/spear dealy), along with his scutum (rectangular shield) which can be a fair weapon in itself. Of those, he prefers his gladius to his pilum, because he's not actually very good with the javelin and he knows it. But he still has to use it, because that's what the Roman Army does. He once had to pick up a German longsword and use that, and that he really didn't like, but that's hardly a weapon he uses on a regular basis.

What is their preferred method of transportation?

He rode in a litter once. He liked riding in a litter. But that was before he joined the army, and now his favourite method of transportation is anything that isn't endless marching with a pack on his back.

What kind of weather makes them happy, and what kind makes them sad?

He really doesn't like the rain; he never has, even when he was living back in Italy. He likes sunshine, but not really burning, baking sunshine; gentle, warm sunshine. He's a very picky dude when it comes to weather. Doesn't like rain, doesn't like snow, doesn't like uncomfortable levels of heat, doesn't like fog or mist or sleet or basically anything that makes him damp in any way, shape or form.

Basically he hates ALL of Germany's weather, ohohohoho.

What clothing do they like to wear, and what do they wear most often?

What he wears most often now is the standard army tunic and his armour. What he wore most often before was a tunic still, but of rather better quality and with some tasteful embroidery. That's what he likes to wear. He did bring some of his nice tunics with him when he joined the army, but they didn't last very long. He still has one, but it's stained and torn in several places and nobody knows he still has it.

What do they do when they need comfort? Do they seek out a person, a food, an activity, etc?

He's usually extremely loath to admit he ever needs comfort, preferring that everyone else see him as a more or less emotionless sarcastic soul he usually presents as. So he isn't going to go running to anyone. He does, however, suddenly turn up everywhere Gnaeus is, and to a lesser extent Aulus; those two make him feel oddly better, Gnaeus simply because he bulls on through life without regard for the worries Spurius tends to get tied up in on occasion, and Aulus because he's just quiet and thoughtful and can give decent advice, if Spurius was ever to ask for it which he wouldn't. He also suddenly starts avoiding Decimus because fuck that guy. You may also find him trying to block out his thoughts by drilling with his sword.

What decision in their past did they most analyze and fret over after the fact?

The decision to join the army, definitely. His father gave him a way out of it; it was his maternal grandfather who was determined to have him sign up, because he thought young Spurius was going soft and would never get anywhere in life if he didn't have a little army discipline beaten into him. His father offered to get his son a job alongside him in the Imperial household instead, but Spurius' pride had been pricked and he wanted to show that he COULD manage army life and become the man his grandfather wanted him to be. So he signed up. And almost immediately regretted it, although he's basically used to it by now.

Do they have any pet peeves or petty dislikes, and how do they react to encountering them?

One of his biggest pet peeves is people who don't know when to keep their mouth shut, and he's in regular close contact with Decimus, so... yeah. He's learnt after five or so years to more or less put up with it and save the most devastating of his retorts for when he really can't stand it any more and wants Decimus to go away, seeing as that'll usually do the trick. He also dislikes ignorance, and can't resist correcting it; superstition (in the modern sense of the word, not the Roman sense, which was slightly different- though he probably dislikes that sense as well) which means he often butts heads with the astrology devotee Lucius; and general silliness, although he still somehow manages to get dragged along on some of the stupider escapades his squadmates partake in.

What is their favorite texture?

Soft, good-quality linen and Gnaeus' hair

What is their favorite drink?

Like most of the legionaries it's wine- unlike most of the legionaries he really hates the shitty quality stuff they always get served, and longs for the days when he used to drink wine that couldn't varnish a wood surface to a high sheen.

How do they arrange or decorate their living space?