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Gladiator Ii - Blog Posts
I couldn't have said it better đ
i just love this scene. the way geta is taken aback by the poetry. he's guarded, wary, trying to unpack the underlying threat - a wild animal faced with a machine for the first time. he knows there's something dangerous here, but he can't determine the extent of it.
caracalla, as he is one to do, breaks the tension. he doesn't sense the threat, not like geta does. caracalla is happy with the turn of events, so geta backs down accordingly - but not without a little threat of his own, just so lucius knows that geta isn't oblivious to the harm.
it's the same way acacius threatens geta w/ the consequences of more war. geta's gaze shifts to the side. he knows acacius is right. but caracalla chimes in, giddy about bloodshed, and so geta doesn't pursue the potential threat. he allows it to slide.
geta is the sharper twin. he can smell blood in the water. but he doesn't follow up on his suspicions, especially not when caracalla delights in the source of the threat.
caracalla was always geta's greatest liability and weakness. love killed him in the end.
"Pedro looks so out of place, he doesn't look like he belongs there." Shut up.
OH MY GOOODDDDDDDSSSS
The gods have SPOKEN
*send an ask to submit a snub
Snub winner for each category will go head-to-head with official nominations winner
check out what my wife wrote đ
"noooo it's just a silly pic!!!" nah, there's obviously a deep meaning here.
C:
Because they're all freaks! Hope this helps
tell me why i'm starting to obsess over Lucius Verus after the evil twins?
(still obsessing over the twins tbh)
Tbh "these characters are a package deal" is always fun. Platonic, romantic, whatever: it's fun. Where one goes, the other shall surely follow.
Acclamation Day
Aka: Caracalla's stream of consciousness during the biggest moment of his life.
They're waiting for him. It's his big day after all, his acclamation.
Everything is going perfectly, but why shouldn't it? Beautiful purple and gold robes have replaced his old blue and gold ones and the fabric is soft and light on his skin. He looks down at himself. Yes, this is nice, his old ones had been stained anyway.
Geta never let him wear purple even though they're emperors and emperors wear purple, he knows that and he knows Geta knows that too but he had never been allowed- why though? It's silly, he should be able to wear purple because he is an emperor and thats what emperors wear, but he's in purple now so everything is okay. Except Geta still isn't here and he isn't sure why. Where is he? Perhaps already in his seat.
He spots Macrinus. Behind him, a bit further away is Lucilla. Lucilla didn't want to be his Mummy so now she had to pay. But... he isn't sure if he still wants her to pay, anymore. She could still be his Mummy, he could give her another chance. The General hasn't been around for a while, so maybe with him gone, Lucilla would change her mind.
"Must we kill Lucilla?" He whispers to Macrinus.
Macrinus is tall. He leans in, on his tip toes. Macrinus is nice, he told them about the plans the General and Lucilla had made. Geta said that they could trust Macrinus, so he does.
"Until she is dead, you will never know peace" Macrinus whispers back.
He nods. His head hurts a bit, and he moves on slowly, heading up the stairs. It's hot in the colosseum, and his nice new purple robes are beginning to stick to him.
Two big chairs. One for him and one for Geta. Geta isn't sitting here like he thought he would be. So where is Geta? Geta never leaves him, at least not for long. It's been a little while but they were just talking, they had been arguing actually-
Well, if Geta isn't here, he might as well take Geta's seat and let Dondus have his old one. That is nice of him, he thinks. He's a good emperor.
He smiles. The games begin and he can't stop himself, he loves this. He loves the colosseum, he loves the games, he loves watching the gladiators and wild animals. Sometimes it's hard for him to follow, it's hard for him to track which is the animal and which is the human but its all the same isn't it? It's all the same and its fun. He and Geta have been coming to the colosseum since they were boys- where is Geta, again? He should be here-
He looks throughout the box. There's Macrinus, behind him, like usual. Macrinus is watching the games closely so he turns back around and focuses too. A good emperor must always lead by example.
And there's Lucilla! She looks beautiful, even from a distance. He remembers what Macrinus had whispered to him. Peace. He likes the fighting and the bloodshed and watching the gladiators fly through the air but he knows peace is good, people like peace. His fingers fiddle with the gold thread on his robes.
A yell from below catches his attention. The Praetorians are doing a good job, he thinks, squinting at the action. A laugh slips out and his tongue finds his gold tooth. Where in the world is Geta? He's missing it, he's missing everything, he's missing the big day-
There's that gladiator poet Geta hates! Geta is going to be so angry when he finds out he missed this-
The men are scrambling below, yelling and shouting, crying out and it's so close to him- he scoots forward, trying to see everything. When they were children, he and Geta used to practice with wooden swords, yelling and rolling in the courtyards, just like this. They are emperors now and Geta says it's unbecoming to play fight again like they used to, but it would be fun, he thinks. It's hot and he's sweating a bit but that's okay- a little sweat never hurt a warrior-
"This is war! Real war!" He cries out, unable to contain it.
Does anyone hear him? It's loud, almost too loud, and his head throbs once more. The crowd is yelling, he watches them all, the plebeians, his plebeians, his people. He shifts back in his seat.
Where is Lucilla's General? He'd like this, he'd like the action, perhaps he could even ask the General to show him some things- Geta's cape! He has Geta's cape and he has laurels to match, he could-
Copper red rivers squirm through the sand below. But it's not the salty, fishy smell of water he's used to when he goes to the coast. It's metallic and cold, wafting up with the dust and nestling in his senses like it lives there.
He leans back in his seat. It's hot, he's too hot, his nice purple robes are sticking to him and he doesn't like them anyway, he decides that suddenly, he wants to be back in his old ones, even if they're stained, even if it's Geta's blood on them because that's what it was, that smell, that red splash across the sand that was the same blood spray that had covered him. He's sitting in Geta's chair and Geta isn't here and it's not good, nothing is good anymore, this is not how his day is supposed to go- Geta is supposed to be here but he's not and he's sitting in Geta's chair and its his own fault-
Warmth spreads from his shoulder down. Someone is touching him, Geta, he is praying. A cold brush against his ear lobe, is his earring falling? And then-
i want to be crushed by your sweet caress
caracalla and geta arenât enough? have wannabe romulus and remus!
he still loves him
brotherly love
pathetic little emperor