<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f7/74/1a/f7741ad2e6062d2f56e4c4de17e0166b.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Dalia Serpentus<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Former Meretrix/Person of Infamia<br/><strong>Date | Time:</strong>August 10/Just after sunset<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Atrium<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>As shown<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Taking the temperature of the room<br/><br/>Dalia swept into the room with a silence that belied the brilliant and deep scarlet color of her dress.  As a meretrix a color of its like was required wear, a signal to all who came near that she was open and willing in matters of sex.  It was less a business in Rome, more of a governmentally organized occupation, but that did not mean that a woman with wits that equaled or matched the sumptuous fullness of her curves could not learn to leverage her position...sometimes atop a prominent and elderly Senator, at others beneath the wonderfully strong and vigorously thrusting body of an up and coming military man, or even an ambassador or monied gentry from an allied province or nation...into a life free of her former duties, and one filled with material wealth, but still stained with the loss of citizenship that taking on her former role had cost Dalia.<br/><br/>She still wore the inviting and scandalous colors of her trade, though now she was the one with plenty of currency and the ability to choose whom and how she shared her favors with.  The Bacchanalia was one place and time where her manner of dress was not scandalous and a mark of shame, but instead she moved among the throng with ease.  Her life was filled with lessons in becoming the ultimate social creature, and she greeted the host graciously, filled her cup with wine and wandered about observing all of Rome’s finest practicing the very kind and manner of debauchery that had tarred and feathered her for life.  Another woman might have railed against the unfairness of it all, the hypocrisy, but Dalia was a practical woman, a woman of deep needs and passions ready to be sated and spent.  A life spent swimming upstream against the constant and ever-present hypocrisy of life in Rome was both a sad and oft short life, neither being what Dalia desired for the remainder of her days.  Instead she waited, watched, enjoyed the show with an eye seasoned and inured to such wanton displays, and yet she delighted in them, the smile upon her lips and cheeks matched in splendor only by the hunger in her eyes.<br/><br/>