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fiercefluffy.livejournal.com2010-06-21 06:29 pm
Entry tags:
imperator resurgit
A handful of years had passed -- not many years, but eventful ones, to be sure. Antony vanquished, Atia at bay, the beginnings of a beautiful career in politics well-cemented, Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus could sleep more soundly at night -- not very soundly, but more soundly.
Fortune favored him.
The last thing he needed (much less expected) was to find himself standing, togate and resplendent, within the popcorn room of a once-familiar castle.
His toga was sodden with animal grease, the kind favored by the barbarians of Germania. It could not even be a good olive oil, no, it must be butter. Pfah.
The best word for this situation was one of Pullo's favored exclamations, one Octavian seldom cared to use.
"Gerrae."
Fortune favored him.
The last thing he needed (much less expected) was to find himself standing, togate and resplendent, within the popcorn room of a once-familiar castle.
His toga was sodden with animal grease, the kind favored by the barbarians of Germania. It could not even be a good olive oil, no, it must be butter. Pfah.
The best word for this situation was one of Pullo's favored exclamations, one Octavian seldom cared to use.
"Gerrae."