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Cass
Cass
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Tue Apr 02, 2019 2:02 pm
To say that Milana Ennis was flustered at the moment would be a bit of an understatement. The legacy of Quirinus and Liber was incredibly angry, though to whom this anger was directed towards was a bit less clear. Perhaps it was towards Finn Reddy, the fool who committed treason and blasphemed the gods for a laugh, or Dean Basilone, who refused to give him the sentencing he deserved, or the praetors themselves, who would have vetoed Basilone’s sentencing had he done his duty as a proper Roman officer.

Regardless, she was pissed.

So she stormed away from the barracks, the card Basilone had given her clenched tightly in her fist and mind working faster than a chariot during a race. She couldn't believe this—no, she could, but she would not. Milana went over it again and again within her head: a legionnaire defamed the senate, thus committing treason against both New Rome and the gods themselves; the centurion in charge of the situation gave him minimal labor both in fear of retribution from the praetors and in accordance to his own set of personal morals that are separate from the ideals of what a Roman citizen should uphold; Basilone's fear of retribution from the praetors arose from said praetors' moderate-to-liberal views on Roman law.

Could none of them see the blatant wrongness of the situation?

Ever since she was a small child, Milana had been taught on what it meant to be a Roman, the last descendants of the greatest empire the world had ever known and of the likes that the world would never see again. Her parents had gone to pain-staking lengths to make sure their daughter understood the importance of her citizenry and that it meant undying loyalty to Rome and unquestioning devotion to the gods. Anything less would be unbecoming of a Roman, they had said, and she had listened.

Thinking on the Reddy case, she couldn’t come up with a better example of "unbecoming" to save her life. And yet…

Milana stopped in her tracks. Was that this issue? Did none of them know how to perform their duty properly? No, that couldn't be—centurions and praetors were chosen for their ability to uphold Roman ideals regardless of what problem arose. There was no possible way that they were ignorant. Then why?

Perhaps—perhaps she was the one in error, though this seemed just as unlikely as the alternative. Regardless, it was a possibility she couldn’t just write off. What if she was wrong about all of this? No, she was going to be certain. The old texts were still around and available for public usage; she would go to them for answers.

Steeling herself, she turned and started towards the library.
redline2400
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Tue Apr 02, 2019 3:58 pm
One hour later...

Since the shills kicked him out of his smoking spot, Max Bachman decided to catch up on his enlightened readings. Despite competing against a city’s and army’s worth of readers for the limited copies of those most sacred texts, the son of Mars/legacy of Ceres knew he could find his books in the one dusty corner nobody looked.

Sitting down at a table close to the shelf, he flips to his bookmark halfway through “Anthem,” one of Ayn Rand’s most illuminating works. He believed Rand’s books were the greatest texts ever bound, even if those shills said they were just obtuse objectivist drivel.

In the spirit of Rand’s message, Maxwell pulled out his third Camel of the day and lit it, disregarding the unjust laws preventing him from indoor smoking. It was the only way to honor such a profound auteur.
Cass
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Thu Apr 04, 2019 6:54 pm
Milana had been here for a while, she knew, but she had no idea how much time had actually passed. She did, however, know that her research thus far had done nothing but condemn the actions of her superiors as well as those of Reddy. In the old days, Roman had institued cults that served specific gods and ensured good fortune that year. Traitors like Reddy faced the brazen bull. The gods themselves directly intervened in daily life.

In short, New Rome was a pisspot compared to its former glory.

Grabbing a few more dusty, dilapidating books, Milana's darted to a nearby table, where one lone person was sitting. Ah. Good to see at least one other Roman citizen respecting the history of their great civilization. Gathering her books more securely in her arms, she marched over to the table and plopped in an empty seat across from the figure. She carefully fingered the cover of a rather worn volume and slowly pulled it open, flipping to the index. There. The cult of Quirinus, her divine ancestor.
redline2400
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Thu Apr 04, 2019 8:09 pm
Despite being face deep into Rand’s enlightening words, Max could not help but look up when this... girl slammed her and her dusty books right across from him. The corner was open to all, of course, but there was something to be said about not kicking up all the dust in the corner.

“Hey,” Max said with a puff of cigarette smoke. “You mind here? I’m trying to read the greats and your dust is caking my lungs.”
Cass
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Sat Apr 06, 2019 3:21 pm
"Hmm?" Milana looked up. The Roman was speaking to her about something—dust! Yes, she could see the cloud of...strange-smelling dust surrounding his head. Scowling, she glanced down at her books. They were definitely caked in the stuff. Oops.

"Sorry," she said before looking back down at her own book. "These wonderful classics are hardly used anymore, apparently—one as enlightened as yourself would understand," she said, lookig at the boy's own novel. The title read Anthem, which Milana had never heard of. It must be good, however, for this individual to reading it next to this shelf filled with the great literature of Rome.
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Sat Apr 06, 2019 6:37 pm
Max smirked, impressed by the girl’s appreciation for his literature.

“Why thank you for the appreciation,” the legacy of Ceres junkily croons.

He sticks the Camel back in his mouth and tokes a bit, reading the vibrant objectivism of Rand’s “Anthem” for a few minutes more. But the dust is still there, and the old pages keep sending more and more into the air like a fungus expelling the most distracting spores the gods could conjure.

“SAY, you,” he says with the Turkish Royal bouncing as he speaks, “you’re not some kind of shill, are you?”
Cass
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Sat Apr 06, 2019 9:31 pm
Milana was engrossed in the words of this Roman author's masterpiece. It detailed the different ceremonies of one of the older Bacchus cults, which mostly included consumption of alcohol. She was just starting on a passage about preparation of raw goat meat when the boy's voice snatched her back into reality's hold.

"A 'shill,' " she echoed, frowning. She had no idea what that word meant. "I am definitely not what that word means," she told him flatly.
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Sat Apr 06, 2019 9:45 pm
A girl who was not a shill? SCORE!

“Right on,” Max said. He held his cigarette in one hand and held out his other.

“The name’s Bachman. Maxwell Bachman, of house Bachman. I’m no fake, no phony, and 100 percent no shill.”
Cass
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Sat Apr 06, 2019 9:56 pm
Milana smiled a bit. "Milana Ennis, legacy of Quirinus and Liber," she said as she shook his hand. Good to see that chivalry, the closest thing these barbarians had ever made resembling the Roman Empire, was not yet dead. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." It had been a while since she had met anyone as intelligent and diligent as this Maxwell.
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Sat Apr 06, 2019 10:08 pm
“Me-lana,” Max repeated. “What a name that is.”

He leaned back in the seat and took a long drag on his cig.

Damn I’m cool.

“So, Me-lana, what brings a girl like you to this dusty corner with tomes like those?”
Cass
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Sat Apr 06, 2019 10:20 pm
Milana shrugged. "My mother said it was her great-great-aunt's name," she said matter-of-factly. Very few demigods ever inquired about the origins of her name—ergo, her initial analysis of Max was correct: he was definitely a scholarly type. "These tomes detail some of the ancient cults of Rome," she explained, gesturing to them. "That was back when Romans actually gave a damn about the state of our people and the leadership wasn't such a sham," she said, only regretting her choice of choice words slightly.
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Sat Apr 06, 2019 11:47 pm
A chuckling Max puts his cigarette back in the side of his mouth, ashes falling as he speaks.

“Damn Me-lana, aren’t you just speaking my language?”

He paused for a drag, pulling the Camel out to cough a bit.

“New Rome is such a messed up place. You just want to be your best self and they knock you right down. Now personally,” he said while gesturing his Camel at himself, “I’ve been thinking — conspiring, as those shills say — about changing the system a bit, but that’s just me.”
Cass
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Sun Apr 07, 2019 2:48 pm
Milana froze. Was this...this...what—it was a sign. A sign from the gods. Her parents had told her of this, how the gods used to intervene daily. What else could this be? It was no mere coincidence that she met such a like-minded person right when she was losing all faith in the Legion, she knew that for sure.

She leaned forward, dusty tomes and ancient rituals long-forgotten in light of this. "The system," she began, "is completely and utterly broken. The duty of a Roman is to be the best Roman he or she can be and bring honor to the state as a whole—but this is no longer possible with the current leadership!" She was speaking animatedly at this point, gesturing wildly with her hands. "How are we supposed to serve Rome is we have forgotten what it means to serve? How can be preserve Rome's memory if we have lost it in the wave of barbarian politics poisoning and polluting our minds?"
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Sun Apr 07, 2019 3:59 pm
Max watched Milana as she ranted, leaning back to avoid her flailing.

“Okay… go on…”
Cass
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Sun Apr 07, 2019 9:26 pm
"It's ridiculous—no, traitorous," Milana continued, not even realizing Max had spoken. "Their flippant treatment of traditions and law should lead to their immediate impeachment and subesequent execution, but no one has the bearings to say anything. Rome can't prosper this way. The old empire fell because of incompetence in the area of leadership, and it will do so again if we're not careful. We let those Graeci into our city like they're our kin, but they're paradites—who's to say that they won't pick up a thing or two and take advantage of our weak senate?"
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Wed Apr 10, 2019 1:07 am
”Their flippant treatment of traditions and law should lead to their immediate impeachment and subsequent execution, but no one has the bearings to say anything.”

The girl may be a psycho and a racist and an odd kind of zealot, but man could she speak Bachman’s language.

“DAMN STRAIGHT GIRL!” he called out standing up, slamming the table and drawing a volley of shushes from the patrons.

“The crooks and shills that run this town don’t know how things work! They don’t know who their people are and who really makes this whole system work! And since they’re just fat cats all weak and dumb… and… and...”

A wicked smile slashed across Maxwell’s face, embers stoking in his eyes. He leaned into the table, closing in on the fanatic staring back at him.

“We need to break it… We need to smash the whole system before the Graeci do. How’s that sound, Me-lana?
Cass
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Mon Apr 22, 2019 8:23 pm
Milana jumped when Max slammed his hand on the table. Immediately, she dragged the books off the table and into her lap. Enthusiasm she could understand, but she wasn't about to let the ancient texts get damaged.

She nimbled her lip as she listened to Max's suggestion. "Breaking" the system? Rebellion is treason—plain and simple. But...didn't Caligula's death better the government as a whole? Besides, "breaking" didn't mean mutiny by default; after all, this particular loyalist seemed to have odd jargon.

"You're right," she said at last, nodding as her eyes met Max's. "If we don't do something to fix Rome, it'll fall victim to the barbarians once more." With that said, she gently placed a particular book back on the table. "This one details some of the old Roman orders that helped keep things straight," she explained as she flipped vigorously  through the volume.
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Mon Apr 22, 2019 9:14 pm
The girl, freak she may be, was playing into his game. A fanatic like that was someone Max knew he could use. Such wit was worth enjoying another unfiltered drag.

“The texts, Me-lana, what do the texts say?”

Whatever those dusty flytraps had to say was key to getting into the girl’s crazy little mind.
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Tue Apr 23, 2019 11:43 pm
Nobody knew why a mariachi band suddenly appeared in the middle of the library, but everyone was more preoccupied with the fact that it was there, rather than the reason. Four mariachi men, sombreros in all, sauntered past bookshelves and frantic librarians, straight towards Milena and Max. They played most of a song, ignoring the librarian hissing for them to leave, before handing Max a card and walking away. The card reads To: Max From: Your secret admirer.
Cass
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Tue Apr 23, 2019 11:54 pm
Milana glared at the retreating band before turning her gaze back to Max. She hated that such barbarian culture had infiltrated the library, especially near the sacred texts. So...distasteful.

"Who is that from?" she asked, pointing at the card.
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Tue Apr 23, 2019 11:58 pm
Max looked over the card, trying to get the intruding band out of his head.

“My.... secret admirer.” He looked up at Milana. “Looks like we have allies out there. But do we have a plan to organize them?”
Cass
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Mon Apr 29, 2019 8:34 pm
"Uh..." Milana shook her head, trying to get back on track. How such an obtuse and bothersome ensemble had ever been allowed to enter a library of all places was still beyond her, but well...it was hardly of any concern anymore. She looked back down at the page she'd opened to. "This, here," she began, turning it to give Max a better view, "explains the different procedures and positions the ancient cults had. There were multiple cults, of course, each one headed by a flamen—but that's not how we'll have to do it, of course. First things first: we need to get the word out, to people such as your..."

Sighing, she glanced at the card.

"...secret admirer," she finished, cringing as though the term left a bitter taste in her mouth. "Do you have ideas regarding this matter? I would assume that you have some insight in the matter."
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Tue Apr 30, 2019 8:17 am
Max looked over the texts, debating whether a cult would be the right way to go about this. While he preferred the classic cloak and dagger approach to rebellion, a cult fosters a certain kind of piety — loyalty — in its members, turning them into tools for the person in charge. Rebellions encourage open thought, but cults? You only do what the leader tells you to do. And the type of rubes who join cults will certainly be useful in obtaining a glorious future...

“Naht particularly,” he countered to the girl. “The thing about a... secret admirer is that they’re too much a chicken-bird to actually talk to ya, but will stalk you down and send a band into a library to serenade you with their racket. So no, I have no idea who this could be.”
Cass
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Tue Aug 13, 2019 9:26 pm
She furrowed her brows in irritation, but the emotion was merely in passing. Well, if Max's admirer wasn't bold enough to identify themselves, then they simply weren't worthy of any potential mutual attraction from a true Roman like him. Regardless, no name meant it was of no consequence to the cause.

"Then we'll have to look for allies elsewhere," Milana said. She chewed at her bottom lip in thought. How does one start a cult? It wasn't like any of the ancients left behind an instructional manual for her convenience. "I guess we'll just start doing it physically: conversations with those with similar mindsets or complaints, some sort of symbol only those in the know would understand, praying for guidance, et cetera." That sounded about right, plus she was pretty sure she'd seen that behavior in the educational films she saw in school. Nodding to herself, she glanced up at Max. "Do you agree?"
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