#&(romulus)

[hvbris]

"I was born to make history" Romulus for Lucretia

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒 & 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐀 @senatus-romanus

"You have made history, Sir," Lucretia replied politely, her shoulders square and her head bowed. "The Roman Empire is the most powerful Empire to have ever existed." Her ancestors had all been a part of it, including the woman she had been named after -a Roman Officer from the Old Times, who had fought in the Legions at a time when such things were unheard of.

It was a name she was proud to wear. In fact, Lucretia had always felt deeply connected to this woman -she was the reason she had joined the Legion (a much easier feat now, in 2026). The feeling had only increased in the past weeks, in fact culminating when she saw General Romulus for the first time. She did not know why. But his presence made her feel old and melancholic for a time long gone. Sometimes, she almost felt as if she had known him forever, a strange (and inappropriate!) sense of deja-vu she could not explain.

"And you will continue to make history, Sir," she hurried to add.

[hvbris]

@senatus-romanus . if this isn't the consequences of Gallia's actions 🤡

Gallia was pacing around the tent, her long blonde hair billowing behind her shoulders as she walked. A purple bruise was already blossoming on her neck, right where the General had grabbed her. General. He was more than that, obviously.

The violence with which he had separated her from her people. (Where were they? What had they done with them?) The obvious desire for dominion over her. (Typical.) And, of course, the heavy aura that seemed to surround him. Like a foot pressing on her neck. That man was no man at all. No more than she was a woman. He was Rome. And Rome had won, today.

Rome could have been hers. Brennus had certainly tried. But the invasion had failed, and the victory had eluded her. Thus was the game of war -victory was sweet, but defeat was bitter. Knowing this did not improve her disposition. And when the reason for her rotten mood walked into the tent, she turned on her heels to face him.

"Venisne huc ad palpandum, brutum?" she greeted, her voice dry and biting.

[hvbris]

90 for Lucretia and Romulus

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒 & 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐀 @senatus-romanus 90. The Dying Miner - Pete Seeger

Pain had subsided. In its place, a great chill shook Lucretia's body. Cold, she was so cold. The only warmth she felt was on her stomach, where the big, open gash bled profusely. It was nice. She put her fingers against it, pressing against the warm blood.

Lucretia did not want to die quite so young. But she had always wanted to die on the battlefield, and the Gods had listened to her wishes. How could she complain? She closed her eyes, just for a second. When she opened them again, General Romulus was leaning over her.

"This looks like the end for me," she croaked. "Thank you, Sir, for letting me fight for the Empire."

Perhaps Lucretia should have been angrier. She wanted to keep fighting. This was too soon; she still had to climb the ranks of the legion, to become a legend on par with the great conquerors of Rome. But the blood loss was making her dizzy and delirious.

She reached for General Romulus' arm with her hand (stained red). She reached for it, and when she found it, she grabbed it with surprising force. As if clinging to life, after all.

[hvbris]

@senatus-romanus . songbird unknowingly gives powerful general a lot of bad ideas

Lucy Gray elegantly jumped off the makeshift stage, her cithara in hand. The crowd of Roman citizens quickly dispersed once it was clear that the show was over, and she turned to glance at her family while they loaded up their instruments back in the cart. When she looked back at the street, she noticed that a man had not walked away yet. He looked important -dressed like a general, from what she could tell.

"I hope you enjoyed the show," she hummed in place of hello.

She spoke Roman, though it was clear she was not from here. While she was wearing a colorful palla like the other women walking up and down the street, her outfit was mismatched and made of clothes from different lands -like an Indian skirt, pleated and adorned with gold thread.

Lucy Gray didn't seem shy as she smiled in his direction and put her cithara on the floor, resting against her thigh. "Generals don't usually stop to listen to us." She looked at him quizzically. He was imposing, the kind of man who easily led entire armies. "But you did." It was a question, though she had not really asked one.