Cella
Spectator
Only 10 hours? Why is she being treated so well?
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Some Sketches
- Thread starter Andyman
- Start date
Andyman
Senator
I wonder if the ancient Romans were wise enough to foresee precisely how long someone should be dying.
And as for treating the victim, there was no possibility to prolong the agony if the body was too weak, even giving water and so on.
You could only be sure how to shorten the lifespan of the crucified.
Andyman
Senator
Passion Play in the City: the trio.
The parish of St. Francisc prepared the realistic Mystery, more than a theatrical performance. So, it took three to recreate the crucifixion of the Messiah. Mixed sex was simply a matter of statistics. Thorns were real and nails were real, as well as whips. And no loincloth was allowed.
The parish of St. Francisc prepared the realistic Mystery, more than a theatrical performance. So, it took three to recreate the crucifixion of the Messiah. Mixed sex was simply a matter of statistics. Thorns were real and nails were real, as well as whips. And no loincloth was allowed.
Andyman
Senator
...Or, if you think it to be more plausible for the thief: "There is no second loincloth for you, so if you want to have one, you must stole it from your husband!"
Yupar
Regina Iudaeorum
Andyman
Senator
Circus Maximus
Agnes looked around at the audience, too terrified to cry. A quarter of all the residents of the city had come to watch her and her husband die.
She looked at the sand of the arena and her teeth began to chatter with fear. They had not been warned of the death they were to die, and the sight of the crosses lying in the arena terrified her to death. How was it even possible that the procurator had passed such a cruel sentence? After all, they were citizens and had not committed high treason! Why should they die such a vile death, intended only for slaves!?
She still watched with disbelief in her eyes as the executioners stripped her husband naked. No loincloth was granted to him. And then she felt the soldier standing right behind her put his hands under her tunic - one in front, the other behind, brazenly and deliberately touching her buttocks and genitals. She looked at him in despair, with a face red with shame, wanting to protest, but terror choked her throat and only tears flowed from her eyes. The soldier grinned and unceremoniously lifted her robe up, exposing her vulva and breasts to the gathered spectators. For a brief moment she saw nothing, her face covered by the tunic pulled up. She heard only the chorus of laughter and applause from the audience and, completely losing control of herself, she began to cry loudly and fell to her knees, urinating.
But in no time she no longer remembered either her terrible shame or the unjust sentence, nor did she even remember her own name, writhing in pain and screaming at the top of her voice as thick, rough, rusty nails were driven into her arms and legs without the slightest mercy. Nails on which she would hang for the next twelve hours before the executioners mercifully lit a bonfire under her and her husband's feet after sunset, the heat of which would slowly burn their legs and crotches to coal, providing them with the most horrible and inhuman suffering in the last hour of their lives.
Agnes looked around at the audience, too terrified to cry. A quarter of all the residents of the city had come to watch her and her husband die.
She looked at the sand of the arena and her teeth began to chatter with fear. They had not been warned of the death they were to die, and the sight of the crosses lying in the arena terrified her to death. How was it even possible that the procurator had passed such a cruel sentence? After all, they were citizens and had not committed high treason! Why should they die such a vile death, intended only for slaves!?
She still watched with disbelief in her eyes as the executioners stripped her husband naked. No loincloth was granted to him. And then she felt the soldier standing right behind her put his hands under her tunic - one in front, the other behind, brazenly and deliberately touching her buttocks and genitals. She looked at him in despair, with a face red with shame, wanting to protest, but terror choked her throat and only tears flowed from her eyes. The soldier grinned and unceremoniously lifted her robe up, exposing her vulva and breasts to the gathered spectators. For a brief moment she saw nothing, her face covered by the tunic pulled up. She heard only the chorus of laughter and applause from the audience and, completely losing control of herself, she began to cry loudly and fell to her knees, urinating.
But in no time she no longer remembered either her terrible shame or the unjust sentence, nor did she even remember her own name, writhing in pain and screaming at the top of her voice as thick, rough, rusty nails were driven into her arms and legs without the slightest mercy. Nails on which she would hang for the next twelve hours before the executioners mercifully lit a bonfire under her and her husband's feet after sunset, the heat of which would slowly burn their legs and crotches to coal, providing them with the most horrible and inhuman suffering in the last hour of their lives.
One wonders if the death penalty would be a deterrent if it was carried out this way...
At this point neither hers or husband's imperfections a bother to her. They were about to suffer the indignity of the cross for the crowd's entertainment.
It was a light sentence as they were mercifully burned to death after only twelve hours crucified...
Andyman
Senator
The executions in the circus, however being easier to be watched by the more numerous audience, often took no more than few hours, because the people wanted to see the agony of the convicts from the beginning to the very end but they didn't want to sit all the day long, having only the cold dry provisions, and they for sure preferred not to sleep in the circus...