roman sword

“Ask the Dragon Witch, she knows the drill…” 

I couldn’t help myself…It was just asking to be drawn. Plus, I’m living for all these headcanons of fighting Prince Roman and his battles with dragons. Enjoy the doodle~ 

by @cayannamon-arts / @cayannamon


Reblogs and Likes always appreciated!

Other Sander Sides Art


Reyna  Avila Ramirez Arellano

“Oh, but I don’t abide by your time frame, giant,“ Reyna said. "A Roman does not wait for death. She seeks it out, and meets it on her own terms.” 

― Rick Riordan, The Blood of Olympus

The Ancient, Fierce Celtic Women & the Romans who fought them.

“Here the women met them holding swords and axes in their hands. With hideous shrieks of rage they tried to drive back the hunted and the hunters. The fugitives as deserters, the pursuers as foes. With bare hands the women tore away the shields of the Romans or grasped their swords, enduring mutilating wounds.”

“A Celtic woman is often the equal of any Roman man in hand-to-hand combat. She is as beautiful as she is strong. Her body is comely but fierce. The physiques of our Roman women pale in comparison.”  
-Unidentified Roman Soldier

“The women of the Gauls are not only like men in their great stature, but they are a match for them in courage as well." 
-Diodorus Siculus

"The women of the Celtic tribes are bigger and stronger than our Roman women. This is most likely due to their natures as well as their peculiar fondness for all things martial and robust. The flaxen haired maidens of the north are trained in sports and war while our gentle ladies are content to do their womanly duties and thus are less powerful than most young girls from Gaul and the hinterlands.”
-Marcus Borealis

whole band of foreigners will be unable to cope with one [Gaul] in a fight, if he calls in his wife, stronger than he by far and with flashing eyes; least of all when she swells her neck and gnashes her teeth, and poising her huge white arms, begins to rain blows mingled with kicks, like shots discharged by the twisted cords of a catapult.”
-Ammianus Marcellinus

The Sides as Conversations I’ve Heard in Theatre

Roman: Am I not clever, well-mannered, considerate, passionate, charming, as kind as I’m handsome-
Virgil: No. You’re not.

Patton: I’m already so emotional, why on earth are you doing this to me?
Logan: All I’m doing is playing music from Les Mis.
Patton: *sobs* I know!

Virgil: How many bones do you think I would break if I fell off stage?
Logan: Well, it’s hard to say. Depends on whether you’re falling forwards or backwards, what part of your body you land on, there’s a lot factors with those kinds of things.
Virgil: Well, only one way to find out. *Hurls self off stage* Ow.

Logan: *Sliding across the stage in fuzzy socks* FOR SCIENCE!
Patton and Virgil: STOP! You’re going to hurt yourself!
Logan: *Stops sliding, falls on butt* Worth it for SCIENCE!

Roman: *Swinging prop sword all around* HI-YA! I will vanquish ALL THE FOES! *Accidentally hits Virgil hard enough to leave a mark* Oops.
Virgil: Dude, that’s kinky.
Patton: *From across the room* You guys are so CUTE! And GAY!

the woman general

83-40 BCE.  Born into one of the oldest noble plebian familiars, Fulvia married and exercised influence upon three Popularist supporters of Julius Caesar; Publius Clodius Pulcher, Gaius Scribonius Curio, and Marcus Antonius.  After years of influence from the shadows of her husbands, in 41 BCE Fulvia took up arms herself and challenged Octavian in the Perusine war, until her death in 40 BCE

Fulvia was the first living Roman woman to appear on minted coinage.

anonymous asked:

117 and 120, for the drabbles please?? They could go together, I think? But if not, either/or. I feel like that's kind of a Patton thing! Or Virgil. Maybe Moxiety, then? Thanks!

117. “Can I do your hair?” and 120. “He’s pampering me, let him be.”

warnings: none that i can think of, but if you need absolutely anything tagged please let me know!

It starts when Thomas purchases a new comb. Patton is, as he is with all new things, utterly infatuated with it. While Virgil doesn’t exactly understand why—it’s really just a plastic comb, there’s nothing special there—this has happened before, and he knows it’ll wear off within the week. On one hand, he’s glad, because when Patton becomes obsessed with something, no matter how minor, Virgil will inevitably begin to worry about it.

On the other hand, however, he thinks that he might miss it, because Patton is determined to use the comb at any and all opportunities—even if it’s just to smooth down a stray hair or an excuse to relax—and, more often than not, he decides to use it on the other sides. Virgil can’t find it within himself to complain about that.

Actually, it’s kinda nice.

So, when Morality pops into the living room with comb in hand and asks, “Can I do your hair?” there’s no way Anxiety can fathom saying no.

“Sure,” he says, slipping his headphones off. “Whatever.”

Patton claps his hands and sits next to Virgil on the couch, motioning for him to turn around. Virgil obliges—at least when he’s face away from Patton, there’s no way the other side will be able to see his eyes fluttering shut because people touching his hair feels good, okay?

As Patton runs the comb through his hair, he keeps up a constant stream of chatter—what he did today, what he’s doing tomorrow, what kind of dog they should get if they ever get a dog—and Virgil does his best to focus, but god. There are little, pleasant prickles running across his scalp and the muscles in his neck and shoulders are already relaxing.

“Here,” Patton says, and the comb stops moving through his hair for one unhappy second. “Lean back, sleepy head.”

Virgil could grumble and gripe, but—well, this is Patton. So instead of protesting, he allows himself to be coaxed into leaning against Patton’s chest. The comb resumes its blissful, relaxing strokes and Virgil sighs happily. He feels a gentle kiss pressed to the top of his ear and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. God, sometimes life is good.

And then Roman bursts into the living room and ruins it—of course he does.

“Patton, I require your assistance immediately,” he says, and Virgil cracks an eye open to see Roman brandishing his sword. He doesn’t seem to be injured or scared, however, so Virgil lets his eyes close again. It’s not his problem unless it takes Patton—and thus soothing sensations running through his body—away.

“Can it wait, kiddo? I’m—”

“Absolutely not. I’m hungry and—”

“He’s pampering me,” Virgil grumbles, dropping more of his weight onto Patton’s chest in an attempt to keep him from moving, “let him be.”

“That’s right,” Morality says, and he sounds unreasonably delighted. “I am pampering you. Roman, there’s pizza in the fridge—”

Cold pizza,” Roman whines. “And what about me? I wanna be pampered too.”

Virgil glowers at him. “No. It’s my turn.”

“Buddy, you know how to use a microwave, and it is Verge’s turn.”

After a copious amount of complaining, Roman finally concedes to microwave some pizza and wait for his own goddamn turn. As he turns to leave, Patton—ever affectionate—says, “I love you too, Ro, I promise.”

As Roman turns to respond, Virgil sticks his tongue out at him.

Pat, he’s making fun of me!”

Warlord and queen of the British Iceni, an ancient Celtic tribe, Boudica led an uprising against the occupying forces of the Roman Empire. Boudica’s husband Prasutagus was ruler of the Iceni tribe, and enjoyed autonomy under a treaty with the Romans. However, when he died, the kingdom was annexed as if conquered. Boudica was flogged, her daughters were raped, and Roman financiers called in their loans. In AD 60 or 61, Boudica waited until the Roman governor Gaius Suetonius Paulinus was leading a campaign on the island of Anglesey off the northwest coast of Wales. She then launched a massive assault leading the Iceni, Trinovantes and other Britons in revolt against Roman population centers. She destroyed Camulodunum (modern Colchester), and while the out-manned Roman garrisons attempted to flee, Boudica’s army of 100,000 engaged the Legio IX Hispana, decimating them, then burned and destroyed Londinium, and Verulamium (modern-day St. Albans). An estimated 70,000–80,000 Romans and British were killed in the three cities by Boudica’s armies. Despite these early gains, Suetonius regrouped his forces in the West Midlands, and though heavily outnumbered, defeated Boudica’s advancing Britons in the Battle of Watling Street. The crisis caused the Emperor Nero to consider withdrawing all Roman forces from Britain, but Suetonius’s eventual victory over Boudica confirmed Roman control of the province. Boudica then killed herself so she would not be captured. She has since remained an important cultural symbol in the United Kingdom, and is renown for her tactical use of the chariot on the battlefield by employing shock-combat to break enemy formations.