Io Ludi Floriales!
Decked in her brightest loose garb she could find in the expanse of her closet, letting the curls of her hair free to settle wherever they willed it, the Roman was more than dedicated to celebrate the first of May in her typical grand style despite a battle against allergies that her flower crown making was clearly not helping with. No, she was firmly planted in the park, dedicating herself to making as many flower crowns as needed to ensure that everyone she came across that was worthy would celebrate the day in style. They did not need to know she was sneezing on them as she worked-really, what harm was that?
With a bit of a running start and a jump, the Roman woman was hanging by her hands on the play structure in the park but not until she pulled herself up, chin above the bar was she satisfied. It was a far too long of a time difference between the present and the last she had visited the nearby park and to be honest, Cassia had missed the simple pleasure of getting to play in her way. Swinging a little between pull ups, there was a bit of a laugh that had been all too absent of late for her.
Here was where she could put on the happy face of the bumbling fool and mean it. The last time she was here, things were different. Her family was larger and she was less lonely but she could still play. Pulling herself up a few more times, even with one arm to her pride, the brunette used a little more muscle to manage to lift herself to sit on the uneven bars (thankfully in petal pushers due to the slight chill of night) and leaned back as far as she dared to just watch the sky, only slightly varied from the days she was on top of the world.
When you wish yourself an education worthy of this day and age as you are used to being one of the more well schooled nations and the realization of the immensity of the mass of information you will need to absorb hits you like a war elephant.
“To leave bed or not to leave bed, that is the question. T’is better to cuddle in sheets than to be a productive member of society that you for all intensive purposes dropped out of fifteen centuries ago. . “
/has no idea how to dance to swing but hell, that isn’t going to stop the Roman from trying!
Yesterday in 19 BCE, Virgil had passed away at age 50 and tomorrow will be the anniversary of Augustus (Octavian)’s birth in 63 BCE. So today, like an unfortunate number of days, is an inbetweener of no special circumstance, no tragedy or celebration, nothing horrific or triumphant, it simply is.
And that, discipuli, will not do.
Salvete to One and All!
Now would anyone like to find Nonna some new employment?
Despite being dealt with the news that apparently my Empire fell into bad management and all my neighbors decided to kill me and fight each other for the good bits I shan’t let that stand in the way of my seeing and conquering nature!
And yet, I have still not found my lost properties…
Babies come back
LOST: MY PROPERTY, REWARD: ALL THE ROASTED DORMICE YOU CAN EAT
This is my Empire. I spent a very long time building it and I like it rather much. However, I woke up today and the strangest thing happened: it was missing. No Hispania, no Italias, no Mesopotamia, no Belgica, no Britannia, no Dacia and even Macedonia and Dalmatia seem to have up and vanished!
Of course everyone I happened to lay eye upon was in strange grab but that is besides the point-has anyone seen my lost property? And if so, I need it back promptly. It’s m i n e .
Now where my bitches at?
Taking a lage gulp of the glass in front of her at the small bar, Cassia was really starting to reconsider her line of work. Sure, roughing people up a bit as a bouncer did make her feel better when other physical pleasures were not available but it was starting to take a toll on her. It was a position that didn’t question her age but still, that was a small plus compared to the nocturnal schedule it had given her and the sheer exhaustion she felt along with the sprinkling of light bruises that were getting hard to hide from family that forgot she was an empire and say she as a little woman, accidentally demeaning her.
Sighing, she demanded another glass and mooched off the pate of munchies the person next to her had ordered and had yet to discover was being eaten by the Roman woman. The deep red of her blouse watching the color of the wine and the color her cheeks were starting to adopt, Cassia smoothed her black skirt so it was no longer giving a view that earned her a few free glasses from the generous men at the table near the bar where she was sitting (of course buttoning up her blouse was a different story) and just rested her head on her hands. “I need a new job,” the Roman groused to herself, near whining.