josha stradowski, cis male, he/him, 29 — dear all nations, QUINTUS TITUS has crossed the city borders to edinburgh to the sound of IT'S GONNA BE ME by NSYNC. the SON TO THE EMPEROR AND EMPRESS of ROMAN EMPIRE is known to be AGAINST making peace. HE reminds me of HONEY JARS FILLED TO THE BRIM and THE LAST POMEGRANATE SEEDS, however did you know that HE HAS A FEW CHILDREN HE FAILED TO CLAIM AS HIS OWN? ( kris, 28, she/her, gmt+2 )
BASICS.
full name. quintus valentius titus.
age. twenty nine.
nation. roman empire.
status. single.
sexuality. panromantic, pansexual.
siblings. two (three) older siblings, one younger brother.
languages spoken. latin, french, english, greek.
allegiance. himself.
APPEARANCE.
hair color. ginger / light brown.
eye color. green.
height. one meter eighty-nine centimetres.
scars. a scar on his collarbone.
MISCELLANEOUS.
alignment. chaotic neutral.
strengths. gregarious, courageous, assertive.
weaknesses. thoughtles, abrasive, selfish.
laughter and high spirits follow wherever you go. you always enter a room with a wide cheeky grin, and soon the lips of everyone around start to imitate you. ' oh, what a shame it was not him born as the future emperor, ' you often hear whispered of yourself, by some of the nobility of the court, ' he has it all figured out. kind, confident, gregarious, strong - just what a ruler should be. '
you think the same of yourself and use the words to feed your ego, though it doesn't phase you - you never thrived for power, and only mock the notion. what would you do with that kind of responsibility anyway? no, you're quite happy you were born as the spare (and with the recent passing of one of your older brothers, only grew more resentful of the fact you're now one step closer to the throne).
and, we must say, the roman empire can certainly be grateful for your lack of ambition or the simple fact you were not destined for the crown. while friendly chatter and joking quips flow from your lips, the insides of your heart are much more hollow - you don't have a kind heart, not in the sense of being willing to fight for what's good, and you never had a serious thought in your life. you're not cruel; the gregarious attitude of yours is not a facade. it's thoughtlessness; a sense of entitlement you don't use to humiliate others, but that you always carry within yourself and that's behind all of your behavior. you enjoy anything that amuses you and gives you something to react to, and it never even occurs to you to think about how it affects others.
you have friends you genuinely like in every place, but you wouldn't notice if they went missing. you'd just find some new ones.
clad in regal clothing, marcius felt the heaviness of his attire pressing against him, confining the warmth to his body. he yearned for a break from the sunbeams; his once pristine appearance now tarnished by clear signs of discomfort. as he navigated through the festival site, it was impossible not to notice intrigued looks cast towards him.
halting at a beverage kiosk, marcius gratefully received a cup filled with icy fruit-infused water offered by an obliging attendant. drawing in a deep gulp, he relished its refreshing coolness as it soothed down his dry throat. with an accepting grin on his face and self-mockery evident in his tone.
"i concede," he announced candidly to the person next to him, laced with amusement. "that turning up at summer festivities dressed head-to-toe ceremonially may have been less than wise." his words carried assurance adding further: "but worry not! my unease will neither dampen nor detract from our festive spirit! let's immerse ourselves fully into this merry ambiance and craft enduring memories that'll outlive today's intense sunshine."
" brother, you sound like a poet. " quintus exclaimed dramatically with a wide grin gracing his face, palm on his chest as the other hand leaned against his horehead in a mock notion of swooning. the signs of discomfort in the other went unnoticed; the elder's emotions solely focused on the fact it seemed he found his brother in, what he'd call, a good mood.
" does that mean i can instruct the servants to throw away your whole wardrobe ? you know i've been begging to since you turned five. nothing more hideous ever graced the empire. " the voice played at high notes, as always, frequently changing the tone unexpectedly.
" what do you mean by enduring memories that outlast today's bright sunshine, marc ? " had marcius said it like that ? " are you planning on killing a guard ? seducing one of the queens ? riding a horse through the great hall ? showing off your impecable dancing skills ? "
the danish prince really hadn't wanted to be there, it felt wrong to have a festival in the midst of what could be considered ruin. he was aware denmark agreed to help protect scotland but he couldn't think of how a festival - a place where everyone is so close - was not going to lead to disaster.
vidar looked around, the idea of being so close to so many didn't settle well. he hummed slightly, hearing someone walk up. vidar looked over, scanning them out of habit. "greetings," vidar's voice was quiet, as if he didn't speak very often. "are you doing well?" he was not very good at small talk. what dane was?
the roman could feel the entire place breathing; slowly, shallowly, like one does when they're suffering from a chest pain - with unbearable caution, ever so careful not to let their lungs fill enough to move the ribs and deepen the agony. not quintus - quintus felt oxygen running through his veins in abnormal amounts.
playful smirk still dancing on his lips from a brief interaction with a bashful maid, the man's legs carried him over to a sulking stranger. " me ? ah, what do you think? " he laughed, slapping the table in front of them and sloppily sitting down next to the other. " we have dancing, music, beautiful people, wine. you can only be happy tonight, is that not the truth ? " catching the other's gaze, he repeated. " is that not the truth ? you're going to enjoy tonight. are you not ? "