[table][row][cell][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/MPhQbPK.gif[/img][/center][right][color=gray][sub][color=B1E4FC][b]Location[/b][/color] [color=white]—[/color][i] City Streets, New Rome[/i][/sub][/color][/right][/cell][cell][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Hw1g1i6.gif[/img][/center][/cell][/row][/table][center][color=B1E4FC]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/color][/center][indent][indent][color=gray]A chorus of festivities echoed throughout the streets of New Rome. Laughter, music and lavish scents wafted through the atmosphere, drifting through the packed alleyways and paths of the city center. Countless merchant booths decorated the streetside, each vendor peddling their own goods to onlookers and spectators. The day's spirits proved high, and by all appearances, had no intention to wane as the hours passed on.

Many had questioned Shiori. A distinguished veteran, and a former centurion no less, surely would've joined the games. Cassian, Sabina, Kyros, Luka, even Rex—all names that carried significant weight. They all had chosen to join in the day's spectacle: a sparring match within the grand coliseum. It was practically expected that Shiori would follow in their footsteps.

And yet, she did not. Her days in the Legion had long since past. Shiori had found herself in the sidelines; a spectator from the shadows. She preferred it that way. The calm. The peace and quiet. It had enthralled Shiori like a siren's song, drawing her away from the spotlight. Fifteen long years. No longer did the heat of battle scar her skin. No longer did the fate of many rest in her hands. She could finally beat her sword into a ploughshare—to partake in the quaint aquarian life she had once cherished as a child many, many years ago.

Instead, she found herself wandering the paved stone streets of New Rome. Some whispered, as if it had been peer pressure for her refusal to spar. Others simply stared, wide-eyed and gawked. Shiori paid them no heed, ignoring the occasional onlooker as she browsed the festival. It was how she found herself in front of the Paradiso, the Italian-American brainchild of fellow centurion Avery Pierce. She could go for some food, Shiori figured, as she entered the bistro.

[color=B1E4FC]"One slice to go,"[/color] Shiori asked at the counter, [color=B1E4FC]"Please."[/color]

[color=white]"Coming right up."[/color] The server replied, grabbing a slice and wrapping it in paper. [color=white]"That'd be one denari."[/color]

Shiori reached into her pocket and pulled out the exact change needed to pay for the slice. Handing the server the money, she bid them farewell. Now with food in hand, she pondered her next course of action. The reenactment sounded worthwhile, and so she set out to watch it. Perhaps the youngsters could finally put out a decent show this year, she wondered.[/color][/indent][/indent][center][color=B1E4FC]▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅[/color][/center][right][sub][color=B1E4FC][b]Interacting With[/b][/color][color=white] — [/color]N/A[/sub][/right]