#How To Exchange Gold Coins For Cash

[rafecameronssl4t]

What’s in My Bag Interview || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: Reader partaking in Refinery29’s What’s In My Bag interview!!!!!!

Warnings: none!!!

Word count: 1,127

MASTERLIST

The camera pans in as two smiling women stand before a white table. One speaks first, "Hi, I'm Brianna," she says, flashing a grin. "And I'm Sara," the second chimes in, her energy equally lively. "And we're about to spill it!" Brianna declares. "And guess whose celebrity bag this is!" Sara finishes.

Off-camera, you sit comfortably in front of a monitor, arms crossed and lips curved into an amused smile. as the two dive into your bag with giddy curiosity. The first item they fish out is your phone. "Okay, wait—no case?" Brianna gasps, holding it up for the camera to see. "Bold choice," Sara agrees, examining it closely. Then her eyes narrow.

"Wait, who’s this on the wallpaper?" They angle the screen toward the camera, revealing the photo. "Is this her boyfriend?" Sara guesses, her tone suddenly conspiratorial. "Or maybe just some random guy at Disneyland," Brianna jokes, though the way she squints at the image suggests she doesn’t fully believe it.

Behind the monitor, your shoulders shake with silent laughter, enjoying the speculation. Next, Brianna pulls out your sunglasses. "Ooh, vintage Chanel," she gushes, inspecting the delicate details on the frames before showing the camera, "she's got style." "Agreed," Sara nods.

Then she pulls out something heavier. "Okay, so there's a camera in here, like old school film camera" Sara announces, holding it up. Brianna digs deeper in your bag, before pulling out a roll of film. "So is this a clue? Should I open it?" Sara wonders aloud. "Maybe don’t," Brianna laughs nervously as they exchange giggles.

"Okay, next—Ted Gibson Texture Spray," Sara announces, holding up the bottle like a prize. "We love this!" "So good," Brianna agrees, nodding. "So she's got great hair," Brianna continues as you make eye contact with the camera that is focused on you and playfully flip your hair. "And what’s this?" Brianna pulls out your hand cream.

"How do you even say this? Goe… Go-ee oil?" Brianna stumbles, sniffing it cautiously. "Interesting smell," Sara comments, scrunching her nose. "It kinda smells like sunscreen," Brianna comments as you let out a soft snort, leaning closer to the camera and whispering "I thought it smelled good!"

Sara's hand then closes around something shiny and gold. "The only way out is through," she reads from the surface of a coin, inspecting it closely. Sara furrows her brow. "Is this… a medal?" "No, wait—it says ‘challenge coin,’" Brianna corrects, turning it over in her hands.

"Is this, like, a secret society thing?" Sara wonders. "Or maybe a movie prop?" Brianna counters. Behind the monitor, you laugh to yourself, your shoulders shaking slightly. "Drinking game!" You say lowly to the camera, amused by their speculation. "Maybe an actress?" Brianna says as Sara hums thoughtfully.

You turn your head to the camera again, winking. Sara then pulls out a small pin with the text “LOVE DC, GO” embossed on it. "Okay, are you from DC?" Brianna asks, holding it up for the camera. Laughing, you shake your head. "Initials!" you say quietly, clearly enjoying yourself.

"Ooh, cute," Sara pulls out your nail paint. "OPI in the colour 'Girl', super cute," Sara says. You flash your nails at the camera. "Did these in the car on the way here!" you confess with a cheeky grin. Brianna then pulls out your car keys. "Keys to a Mercedes," Brianna observes, dangling them in the air. "She’s driving in style," Sara teases.

They then pull out some gum. "So she's definitely someone who talks to people a lot," Sara guesses as Brianna pulls out some cash. "Canadian money?" Brianna says, unfolding the bill. "Is she Canadian maybe?" Sara questions. "Wait—there’s also Barbadian dollars. Are you Bajan?" Brianna asks, genuinely curious as she looks at the camera.

You silently laugh, throwing your head back, unable to hold yourself back. "A fan favourite!" Brianna gasps, holding up your Baccara Rouge 540 perfume. "She smells good!" Sara comments. They then pull out some bar wrappers. "She's on the go! I feel like she is someone who travels a lot. She's either an actress, or a travel influencer." Sara comments.

"She's an important person, obviously, she's in front of the camera. Whether that's her own, or other people's camera." Brianna guesses. "Can we get a hint?" Sara questions. "She's in the Outer banks cast," the producer says as the two girls look at each other with a knowing look. "Is it Y/n Y/l/n?" They say, "Yes! You're right!" The producer confirms, and you step into view, pulling off your headphones with a big grin as they squeal.

"Hi!" you greet, waving as you step onto the set. "You’re even more gorgeous in person!" Sara exclaims, pulling you into a hug. Laughing, you return the embrace before turning to Brianna. "Aw, thank you! It’s so nice to meet you both!" you say, settling between them.

"How did it feel watching us go through your stuff?" Brianna question, "Hilarious," you admit, still laughing. "I was cracking up the whole time," you say as they chuckle. "I thought this was a good clue because we shot OBX in Barbados the past couple seasons," you say picking up the Barbadian money as their mouths drop in synchronised surprise.

"And this," You pick up the coin, "Charlie, who plays Big John in the series, gave everybody this coin for a drinking game. It’s part of a drinking game and basically, if someone challenges you with their coin and you don’t have yours, you buy drinks." You explain.

"And I think it says," You start, opening the coin package, "yeah, Outer Banks season three," You chuckle. "Oh my goodness, we should have opened it but we didn't want to be nosey," Brianna says as you laugh. "Yeah, no you should!" You say. "Now we know next time," Sara adds on as the three of your chuckle.

"This is a pin I got when we wrapped Glass Onion," you explain, holding up the small, gold-embossed pin. "The ‘DC’ stands for Daniel Craig," you add with a smile. Their eyes widen, and Brianna lets out an excited gasp. "Love Daniel Craig!" she exclaims, her tone brimming with enthusiasm.

"Same," you chuckle, enjoying their reactions. "This is actually my second pin, though," you admit, tilting your head slightly. "I lost the first one but he was sweet enough to give me this replacement just last week in London," You explain.

Next, you pick up your phone. "This is my co star and boyfriend Drew Starkey," You reveal with a grin as the girls erupt into cheers "I thought this would be another fun clue," You chuckle. "That we failed," Brianna chuckles. You laugh. "One of my favourite people. Hi, babe!" you add with a wink at the camera.

[musedblues]

AMORE ~ FATI (part 1)

a/n: wait until the movie? nah. haven't stopped thinking about this freaky fucker since the trailer dropped! eat up, babes. also the horny police called and there is a warrant out for my arrest.

description: after winding up in a crime related to the royals, geta strikes up a deal with you.

warnings: down right hoe shit, sexual descriptions, gruesome descriptions, minimal historical research/ distant memories from high school test, cliff hanger. MINORS DNI

Part 1 of 2 (at least)

///

The afternoon was like any other, the day your life changed. You awoke to an empty home, gathered your cart of crafts, and headed to the stalls. You sold your paintings there and begged the clouds to cover the swelter of the sun.

For your landscape art, you accepted coin. You accepted food. You accepted a jeweled ring that afternoon, just as well. An exchange like it wasn't out of the ordinary. You pawned the adornment for cash that evening, and made the trek back home. With plans to paint pictures into the night, to sell off the next day.

Your home was quaint, once big enough for two, now only you haunted the halls. The man you'd once been forced to marry had been dead for many months now, and a certain freedom was found in his absence. But a certain monotony about your routine seemed to predetermine the days ahead as far as you could see them. So, you painted.

As you fiddled with brushes and stained your grey dress with speckles of deep amber, a bursting knock came across your door. The guest gave you no time to greet them before turning into an intruder. Two royal guards burst into your home, shouting and grabbing you and dragging you away. All so quickly.

You went fighting. You cursed as they held you in a carriage. You demanded their silence broken. But they remained stone faced as you begged to know why you'd been abducted from your home. 

Your captors rode into the city, past the colosseum, right through the gates that led to the home of the reigning family.  Your heart hammered in fear, knowing what you knew about the rulers. Caracalla and Geta had only just taken over the reign of their father, their mother looming near, picking sides; as you understood. Since the change in leadership, Rome hadn't suffered en mass. But a growing dread hung heavy over the population, knowing the brothers were struggling to join together in power. Knowing their clash divided not only their power, but all of Rome.

You were grabbed at once more, forced out of the carriage and into the great hall of the estate. Gold and red statues lined the entrance. A plum rug stretched before your feet, a welcoming cushion as the rest of your senses were drowned by harshness. Before you, pacing near his throne, Geta waited. 

You'd seen him and his brother before, trailing behind their father at rallies. Lingering near the stands at games. You'd always let your gaze settle on Geta, if ever you'd seen him. You'd always been drawn to gawk at the trimness of his figure. The enigmatic expressions he would pull. The presence he commanded. He was easy to admire, from afar. And the towns ladies often gossiped of how alluring he could be up close, if they were lucky enough to be invited to do so. No one spoke as much of Caracalla. In his name, fear and loathing often followed.

With a glare in your direction, Geta ceased pacing. He nodded toward his guards to relinquish their hold on you.

"What is all this?" You demanded, refusing to bow or humble yourself before this ruler in anyway. How could you dare offer up respect when little to none had been offered to you? Geta seemed taken aback, for a flash. His brows furrowed and his lips parted in shock, at your boldness. But then a grin flickered across his lips and his pacing started up once more.

"You're in possession of something of mine, no?" Geta alluded. Want as you might've to argue, to proclaim your innocence, you were too baffled. What could he possibly be on about?

"You were seen taking a ring as payment today, at your stall." Geta boomed, voice filling the room, echoing off the tall painted ceilings. He started into a story, then, that made things clearer. You learned that ring was a family heirloom, stolen by a servant only one night ago. That he'd sold it to a carriage driver for freedom. You learned that servant had been slain. But the ring was still gone. And you were the last person seen with the distinct bluish jewel in your palm. There were many a shopper along the street market this morning. Several were looking into your stall as you accepted the ring for payment. You couldn't deny the action. But you didn't have it any longer, anyhow.

"I exchanged it for money. With the sellers near the river." You decidedly conceded. "I've got nothing more to do with this now release me." Your voice shook, out of fear for your fate, and anger for your circumstance. 

"Names." Geta stalled his meander, a few steps away from you. His dark eyes had cast across your figure before boring right into yours. You couldn't look right at him without feeling a shiver up your spine. And you were not about to let on that Geta had this effect on you. So, you cast your gaze to the hands at his sides, and scoffed at what you saw.

"Why? Are the rings already on your fingers not good enough? You cannot be allowed to want for what you don't have, if you're in possession of more than enough already."

"What's mine is mine! No one else's." Geta yelled, keeping his eye's boring into yours. His voice shook through the halls, and fueled your rage further. Your rage for your circumstance, and for that of this nation.

"Your greed shall poison this empire." You spat at the man.

"An empire I was born to rule cannot be soured, destiny has been at work since my conception and my father's before me." Geta grinned, an all-knowing sort of smile that was meant to belittle you, you were certain. But you couldn't be made to feel so worthless.

"We are all born to die, your highness."

"Your opposition will result in bleakness if you do not answer my call for this information. Give me their names." Geta shouted, still inches from you. Geta was giving you a chance to answer. And that shocked you. You voiced your opposition only because you thought you were surely moments away from being killed, and refused to die without standing your ground. But here you still stood. Geta was letting you. 

As taken aback by his patience as you were, his arrogance and demanding shouts were only deepening your desire to withhold. To stand resolute. Who were you to ruin some poor people's lives over a bit of jewelry? Your silence was deafening, each passing moment tensing at Geta's shoulders. You watched his jaw clench, you watched his eye's dance between your own. You smiled. 

"Get her out of my sight." Geta hissed, waving his men to capture you once more. You rolled your eyes as they grabbed at you. "Keep her in the cellar until she starts talking. Do not, however... take drastic measures."

You shot a perplexed frown the rulers way as he shook his head in your direction. A scowl turned Geta's lips down. But as he watched you begin to growl in unwillingness to go, his smile curled to life.

"And what of you? What punishments are you allotted?" You yelled as the guards dragged you away. Geta kept his furrowed smirk pointed at you, a puzzled sparkle in his eye.

///

The cellar smelled damp as it felt, your feet squelching along the dirt paths. You'd been taken past a row of prisoners, all in various stages of wither. You closed your eyes too them, offering silent prayers for their fates in passing. 

"In you go," A guard shoved you toward the back of a small cell, chuckling as he locked the barred off door. "When you're ready to talk, we just might be around to listen. Let's hope we don't forget about you all the way over in this corner."

How had you ended up here? Hours ago, you'd been at peace in your quiet cottage, paint brush in hand. Now you sat on a wooden bench, senses filled with cold. How were the gods so cruel? Why did you have to accept that stupid ring? Why didn't you admire it longer? Maybe you would've found evidence of its owner, somehow, in the royal gleam of the thing. Maybe you could have returned it with honor, the promise of your home awaiting you. But none of that was happening. Now, you were unsure of everything. But you weren't going to go down without a fight. You weren't going to rat out the innocent fellow you pawned with, for simply surviving another day of this confounding life. You weren't eager to play into the rulers demands for more, as if he didn't have enough. As if he deserved to be granted assurance when himself and his brother offered Rome none.

Hours must've passed. Guards floated by time and again, jeering at you through the bars of your cell. As they passed you by, the voices grew louder yet, giving other prisoners hell. You heard shouts and screams. You heard begging for torture to cease. You heard the stabbing of flesh and the gurgle of blood. You heard the quiet from your own cell. Why were you being spared of such treatment? Why was your confinement different from the others?

As you began to question your own sanity, and the fate the gods had in store for you, a guard was passing by your cell once more. He stopped there, jamming a key into the lock. This was it. Your turn had come. You braced to be berated as the man reached in and yanked you to stand. The guard demanded you to follow as he dragged you through the cellar the same way you'd come in.

Suddenly you were in the great hall again. The purple carpet like clouds under your step. There were servants arranging decor as if an event were to be taking place soon. Your observation of the hall was short lived as the single guard dragged you up a marble staircase. The home was vast, and full of well painted statues and portraits and windows. The sun was long gone from the sky. It had to be later than midnight. As you soaked up your surroundings and let your imagination run wild, you tried not to worry how you'd be executed. You tried to remind yourself that death waited for no one. You tried to remember the last picture you'd been painting, a field of sheep under a setting sun.

Your captor stalled before a great carved door, twisting the handle. Your captor dragged you inside. 

Candles lit a room with a bed in the middle, the biggest you'd ever seen. The amber glow of the space was welcoming, despite the terror that resided about your situation. Beyond the bed was a table full of wine, bottles of all sort decorated the clothed stand. Before the table, was Geta. His slump on a stool shifted when he saw you. Moving to stand, the man dressed more scarcely than before was slow to approach you. His expression unreadable.

"Leave us." He demanded, pointing the guard to exit the room. The man's parting left chills in his wake. What was to become of you now? What was this all about?

Geta did not stay still at your front. He instead let his head roll from one side to the other as his pace turned back toward the cloth covered table. Among the bottles of wine were a scattered few chalices. He filled one with a drink. And then another. 

"We caught the carriage driver who initially accepted the ring." Geta announced, back toward you all the while. You admired the tone of his shoulders, as one was left uncovered by his robe. The cloth stayed tied among his waist. "We also captured the man you pawned the ring off to. We have the ring." Geta continued, bringing both cups of wine over to where you stood. Ah, so poison was to be your execution?

Accepting the chalice in a fist, you stayed silent all the while. Geta locked his tired gaze on yours and kept talking. 

"The ring was my fathers. Something he left just to me. Caracalla was given finery as well, just for himself. We do not do well with equity, my brother and I." Geta raised his wine for a sip and kept his dark gaze locked on your own. His eye's were red from lack of sleep, it seemed. His eyes were bright, all the while, as they peered into yours. This leader had a way of drawing you in. This leader had a way of making you forget you were probably on the verge of slaughter or worse.

"And while this mission to hunt down the ring has been my mission alone, Caracalla's wrath has still been promoted since he learned something of our fathers had gone missing." Geta explained. 

"What's become of the carriage driver and the man I sold your ring to?" You dared to wonder. 

"The servant was killed as you know, by Caracalla's own sword. The driver has been exiled at my command." Geta said. "But the man you sold it too was killed as well, by my brother's guards. Before I could get to him. You see my wrath is often equal to Caracalla's. But my bloodlust isn't as insatiable. And I can see his way of violence has stirred fear among our people. Would you agree?"  

You had to nod. 

"I do not wish death upon you. Blood should only be shed in battles and in honor. You were a simple moving part. You should not deserve to be killed in the crossfire. But you should pay for stumbling where you dared not have stepped. Otherwise, Caracalla will catch wind that I let you slip away without a punishment. And he will do worse."

"So, what is my fate?" You wondered, clutching the wine in your fist, unmoving. Mind whirring. Had you really been shown a backhanded kindness by the ruler you'd always believed to be more unyielding? His already alluring nature becoming more attractive as you understood this to be true.

"Exile seems drastic, yes. But it's an option." Geta raised his glass to gesture, moving to pace before a cushioned chaise. This room, his room, wanted for nothing. There was space and comfort and treasure promised throughout its expanses.

"Then there could be a fine. You'd be meant to pay every fortnight." Geta reasoned drinking once more. Still not entirely trusting of your own wine, you rested the chalice on a nearby chest, crossing your arms with a scowl. As if this Empire needed more money. 

"I'm too poor to keep that up." You spat, expressing displeasure in your tone. Geta raised a brow and frowned when he realized your implication, how much work needed to be done for the betterment of the population. With a sigh, Geta cast his gaze about the room. When his pace turned naturally closer to you, his eye's locked on your face as a realization dawned across his. Geta let a smirk hint at his lips as his dark eyes glanced into yours. 

"There is... another way..." Geta implied something you didn't see coming. As the man continued his languid back and forth, his gaze stayed ever fixed on your figure. And you hadn't really been ashamed of the glances you'd stolen of his, this day. He was drawing closer, as if to entice you. He didn't need to know that it wouldn't have taken much seduction. He didn't need to know that you'd already been wondering what it would be like to untie the robe at his waist.

Geta didn't need to know that you were becoming less wrought with terror by the second. You'd hoped he'd never known you were afraid, before. But now, in the flickering candlelight of his lavish room, you saw him. The persona Geta had put on all these years, all this time, was just that. You could see plain as day. Geta was full of anger, yes. But he seemed full of so much more, to you, now, too. The man seemed to hold a brewing mixture of depth about him that felt so obvious all of a sudden. Now, more endeared to the ruler, and just as attracted, you made up your mind.

"Seeing as I have no funds... let's just get this over with." You sighed, feigning impatience for the wrong reasons.

Geta circled you, eyeing you up. You wanted to melt under how hot his gaze was. But right now this was all happening far too slowly. Your interest had skyrocketed. But your time had also been heavily wasted here. You had plans, after all. He'd held you captive long enough. 

"Sit down. I'm tired of waiting." You barked at him, shoving his shoulder so he collapsed into the chaise. Geta fell seated at your order but looked up to you with an irate sneer. An anger passed over his expression but morphed into curiosity in a blink.

"Seeing as to how I'm getting what I want out of you, I don't mind giving into your demands." Geta announced, as if to remind you he was the one calling the shots. You couldn't help but grin, struggling not to roll your eyes at the man's obsession with power. Humming so he knew you heard him, you settled either knee at Geta's sides. 

As the ruler's fingers reached to grab at your hips, your day flashed before your imagination. Funny how life worked. How days could be spent so monotonously for so long only to become upturned and scattered about the next. You never imagined you'd find yourself straddling one of Rome's emperors over a payment for your latest painting. 

Geta's kiss surprised you. Not the fact that it was bruising, and harsh. But the fact that it was. You assumed this would go quickly, without much effort put into anything besides a quick and vulgar shagging. Granted, his lips didn't press into yours longer than a couple minutes, before his teeth were digging into your neck. But the way his hands wandered to grab at your limbs and claw at your skin was a welcomed affection you had not expected. 

When you finally got to untie the robe around his waist, you couldn't help but admire the build of his core, the shape of his figure. You'd heard girl's oggle over the emperor before, he was no stranger to trysts of most kind. You'd heard girl's trade deadly details of their nights spent with Geta, his lust unbridled. But the sight of his body bare before yours was better than any rumor you'd caught wind of. 

As you lowered yourself into Geta's lap, he was quick to rock his hips against yours with force you had been bracing for. His grip on your hips threatened to turn you over, but you'd be damned if you let him gain complete control. You rose a hand to the man's head, raking a set of fingers through his hair. Your fingers curled to grip with perhaps too much gusto, and your hips rolled to force Geta back, more fully seated. 

You heard the man let out a hoarse curse as his grip lightened, as he accepted your dominance. Did this really count as payment if you were getting more out of it? 

Geta pushed you away when it was all said and done, a steady hand stayed holding your side as he nudged you off of his lap. You maneuvered to stand, adjusting the skirt of your dress with a sigh.

"I suppose I should thank you for sparing my life. Surely thought you'd take it. Shame our exchange has come to an end. Didn't quite feel like a payment at all." A daring smirk painted your face as you turned to head for the door. You heard Geta lumber to stand, perhaps drunk off wine and pleasure. His feet padded as your hand reached for the handle of your escape.

"What was the painting?" Geta asked, stalling your leave and perplexing you to turn to face him. He was shrugging his robe back into place with a raised brow. "The painting bought with my ring, what was it?" 

"Oh," You realized, pursing a frown. "I- I don't exactly recall. I do a lot of landscapes. Seascapes. Could've been anything like it." You noted. Geta watched you speak, mouth opened, stalled to say more. His tongue glided over the ends of his teeth as the man nodded and sauntered back toward his table full of wine. 

"My guards will see to your return home." Geta called, back facing you. You took that as your leave, anxious for some rest after exhausting your mind with wonder all day, and your body with pleasure this night. As you shut the emperor's door with a soft click, a gratitude filled your chest. That could've gone a lot worse.

///

The next day seemed surreal. You recalled the night like a fevered dream, like a plot from a book. But there were scratches along your thighs that reminded you what had happened was very truly real. You recalled the feelings Geta stirred in you with warmth.

You milled from room to room, mind in constant awe of the way your life had been spared. Since the brothers had come into power, so many senseless killings had been threatened and followed through. So much violence had afflicted common criminals and the odd person out of place alike. Was it more to do with Caracalla? Was he truly the more cruel? Did Geta have a softness about him? Or had you just gotten damn lucky?

You went about your daily chores and sat down to paint. Your art displayed sheep dotting across greyish green land. Your setting sun was in progress. A breeze flowed through the window, and you imagined it in your painting as well. A knocking rattled your door. It's persistence grating your nerves. Only now, at least, no one was intruding. 

Maybe that's why you were shocked more so now than before, to see two royal guards at your front door. 

"Geta is demanding your audience." One of them chuckled lowly before reaching to grab at you. He was too strong to fight off, though kick and yell you did.

Oh God, he'd realized he'd let you off easy, hadn't he? You should've pretended to hate rocking against his lap in that chair. You should've begged for freedom. Or maybe it was Caracalla after all. Maybe he'd heard of your involvement with his father's stolen ring and wished you dead. And these guards were luring you in with a false promise that Geta was the one wishing for a meeting.

While your mind raced, and the carriage took off into the city and passed the colosseum, you cursed the guards for dragging you away again. For being such fowl scum of the earth to manhandle women like they did.

It wasn't long before you were being yanked from the ride and marched into the great hall with that luscious purple carpet underfoot. Geta was there, assessing a scroll with a couple of servants nearby. His shock surprised you, when his glance looked up from the papers. 

As you squirmed against the holds the guards kept on you, Geta shoved the scroll he held onto, into the grasp of a servant. He drew his sword from his side, the instrument of war and horror blinding you in its brightness. The emperors stomp in your direction was quick, his footfall shaking the building and you to your core. This was it. This was your fate.

"Release her now!" Geta yelled, directing his fury to one of the guards at your side. Before the words fully formed from the man's mouth, either of the guard's grips had unlatched from your arms. You did not see that coming. You almost couldn't comprehend that his blade had missed piercing straight through you.

"You were gone for all of a few seconds before you bring her back here?" Geta quizzed, face red with anger. He held the end of his sword to the man's chin, forcing his footsteps back. 

"You- you told us to go fetch the girl from last afternoon, is that not what we did your highness?" The guard was bold in asking, though his voice trembled. 

"I told you to ask her to come. I told you to remain at her door in patience. And you dare drag the woman back in the matter of mere moments? With force? That's a direct disregard of my orders!" With speed that rallied a gasp from your throat, Geta whipped his sword to slash at the knees of the guard that defied him. The man let out a cry as his legs gave way, sending the fellow to collapse. Geta ordered the other guard to take the injured one to a medic and stay there until he was ready to deal with them further. His blood pooled and stained the purple carpet. 

"Why am I here again?" You couldn't linger in uncertainty any longer, once again failing to greet the leader without any respect of his authority. Geta plunged his red stained sword into its sheath as he demanded his servants get out. The workers scattered at the sound of his command, scurrying toward exits. The room was filled with quiet as Geta turned to face you fully. 

"I'm sorry they dragged you here. You were only meant to show up if you so wished." Geta's voice was lower, his rage subdued. He confounded you, the way he held so much darkness and contempt about him. The way he eased into constraint. These were not the stories you had heard. This was not the man described to you by retired servants and wives of soldiers. He was more withheld, before you. And it caught you by surprise time and again. 

"But since you are here now, and you have not yet raised a hand to lash across my cheek, I shall tell you," Geta went on, letting his eyes do what they had done before. Letting his gaze sweep across your figure. "I asked you here to present to you a proposition. An invitation to spend more evenings like the one we shared just before."

"You cannot be serious." You let a breath of a laugh fan from your throat. 

"I'm hardly ever anything but." Geta reasoned with a curled lip and a shrug of his shoulder in a way you knew was meant to get you to chuckle for real. This man continued to confound you. This man contained multitudes. How had no one else, in all their gossip, mentioned this?

"Is this more to do with payment? Did our exchange not suffice?" You reasoned, still uncertain of the terms in which Geta was asking. 

"I think you know exactly how well our exchange sufficed. Well enough for me to not have stopped dreaming of doing exactly that time and time again. I'm merely asking because I wish too." Geta was so close, his breath ghosting across your cheek, his eyes searching yours. "And now you get to decide what you wish. Who am I to deny you a choice?"

"What happens should I turn to leave?" You wondered. 

"A guard would take you home. And with fair treatment, I'd make certain." 

"What happens should I stay?" 

"A servant would take you upstairs. And your imagination could fill in the rest." 

Well, this certainly wasn't how you expected your day to turn out. That painting of all the sheep and the sunset would have to wait another long day. You suddenly couldn't dream of plans outside of those featuring Rome's half reigning emperor. 

With a nod toward the door you'd seen Geta's servants go through, he grinned. 

With footsteps more certain of the direction of his room, you found yourself locked in there, waiting.

///

The next weeks were filled with plans you couldn't tell anyone without fear they'd think you'd gone mad. You spent days milling about the stalls to sell your landscape paintings, careful of the payments you accepted. You'd harvest the fruits from your garden for meals and wait until night fall, when your promised escort arrived.  

Nights were spent in Geta's room, on his floor, against his wall, in that blessed chaise. Nights were spent shoving the emperors head into the pillows as your hips rocked together. Nights were spent demanding he speed up and slow down at your desire. Nights were spent with Geta sharing wine in between drawn-out romps. You'd drink and laugh and carry on, a couple times until the sun peaked dimly into a new day. You'd stay drinking, sharing stories about where you had come from and your hardships. Things you'd hardly spoken of before. Things you couldn't believe Geta would listen so intently to.

It started off as only a few times throughout any given week. But at the end of those nights Geta would always ask about the next. You'd offer up a day or a time and he'd promise you that he'd see to it happening. He would pour you more wine and tell you the dirtiest jokes, and ask what pleased you most before those nights ended. 

But after a while, he stopped asking. And your escort showed up outside your door more nights than most. And it became a rather expected part of the schedule of either of your days.

This night as you padded across the purple carpet, following behind a servant you'd come to trust; a ruckus was sounding from the stairwell you headed toward.

There you found Geta and his brother spitting fowl words in one another's direction. The men were swarmed by guards, ready to take on any outcome of the boys spat. And while they argued about political things you weren't privy to the full details of, you understood they spoke their father's name. You heard Caracalla remind Geta that their father had decidedly upped Rome's soldiers pay to ensure their loyalties to the empire. You heard Geta shout something about how his father was dead, how the brothers needed to learn to ensure loyalties in their own manner. And then he noticed you had arrived. 

"Thank God." Geta seethed, waving his brother off, taking the stairs two at a time to lower himself to greet you. 

"For you, Geta, trust is easily earned, isn't it?" Caracalla shouted, still domineering about the stairs. "A bat of your lashed eyes toward any common whore and they come flooding through our halls." Caracalla cast a snarl in your direction that turned Geta's blood so hot you swore you could feel the smoke coming off him. With a decidedly quick hand, you rested your fingers to grip Geta's arm, stopping him from running up the staircase to rip his brother in two. You didn't care so much what Caracalla thought of you, so long as Geta's opinion remained unchanged.

"But my powers of persuasion are not so charming. And I must demand trust more harshly. And I must remain harsh to keep control. And I do control the half of this empire entrusted in my name!" Caracalla was seething, fists balled at his sides, eyes bulging with rage. You'd never known anyone to be fueled by such negativity. Geta had slowly started toward his brother, letting your grip remain on his arm. 

"We'll reach an agreement. But not till morning. Go back to your side of the estate, now." Geta demanded, taking the staircase slowly, keeping his eyes on his brother. The younger one stood shaking with fury as the elder led you to his room. Guards and servants followed, wordlessly seeing the pair of you behind closed doors. A couple of soldiers usually waited on either end of this hall, but tonight a few more lingered near in addition. These boys really hated each other.

Once locked in his room, safe from rage and question, Geta had you pinned against the wall. He'd usually greet you. He'd usually ask about what paintings you'd sold that day, or if you'd had any great stories of your family before they sold you to a husband. Or of your husband before he died. But tonight, Geta was ravenous. Tonight, he moved more accordingly to the rumors you'd once heard about him.

The emperor didn't fuss with your clothes. He didn't give you time to unravel his either. No sooner than his hand had crept up the skirt of your dress, was he rocking his hips into yours, pounding your back against the wall.

Your nails clawed at the back of his neck and your legs curled to flex around his waist. Geta was relentless as his body hammered into yours. He huffed harder with each new pulse and let out some cursed sighs when your teeth pierced into his shoulder, to keep from screeching all the same. You knew the guards could hear from the hall. But they didn't need to hear more than they had too.

His efforts had ended, his face stayed buried in your neck. But you weren't ready for it to cease.

"You think you're finished? You're only just getting started." You barked, pawing at Geta's head and forearm, shoving him downward. He didn't hesitate, his knees cracked to the floor with force you knew had to hurt. But he didn't seem phased. Geta seemed entirely entranced on bending your knee over his shoulder. Scratching his fingers along your skin. Burying his head between your legs. And he did so consciously, like a duty being fulfilled. He was relentless tonight, and you felt lucky to be relented against.

When your pleasure had ended, and you were left to slide from the wall to find footing, you found the wine too. 

"Well, I can't help solve Rome's problems," You began, pouring you each a drink. "But I hope I've just helped solve some of your own, your highness." You half mocked, but half spoke in well-meaning regard. Geta hummed somewhere behind you. His voice sounded nearby. But his hands fell to close the space between you, gripping at the hilt of your hips. 

"Dunno, might need to try a couple more times." You could hear the smile in his tone, and you felt his sultry chuckle against your neck, where he nearly dared to place a kiss, but didn't. Geta only reached ahead for his chalice, and asked about your day.

///

 You didn't need to sell paintings. You could've lived a basic enough life, fed from the food you grew in your garden, rested from the comfort of your own bed. Secure enough in your late spouses left over finances. 

You had known married life for all of five years. Wed before you'd even turned old enough to know better. All because your parents thought it best. They said you'd been sold to a husband to take care of you, in the long run. He did care for you, in his own twisted way. He kept you fed and housed until he died. And he left all his meager earnings to you in his passing. It wasn't much, but it was enough for you, for now, for a while.

You started painting when you moved in with him, to fill the days that dragged on so endlessly. You dreamed of freedom from the man for so long. And kept painting when he died, to fill those same days that were just as endless and a lot quieter to boot. He'd left you all alone in the expanses of the great wide world, yet freedom seemed even more unobtainable to you then, somehow. So, you painted. And decidedly started selling those paintings when the house filled up without room for any more of them. You kept selling them when you realized how eagerly peers bought from you.

You'd made friends down at the stalls. You found a quaint routine there, waiting in the sun to trade paintings for coins, and chattering with townspeople while the mornings stayed young. Bakers and seamstresses and writers alike shared your routine, all becoming familiar faces you were pleased to see each day.

"Goodmorning, you!" A trio of girls your age came giggling your way. Girls you'd invited over a few times. Girls you were happy to see now. 

"Listen, are you going to the games in three day's time? I'd like us all to twirl about the colosseum buzzed on vino, carefree!" The small brunette leaned across the table your art was displayed on. 

"She just wants to go to wait on Geta, afterward. He always invites girls in after the games." The blonde rolled her eyes, leaning against the post of your stall as you chuckled in understanding, and out of sudden apprehension. You and Geta agreed to your trysts because he trusted how discreet you could be. When you refused to bend your will to give the names of the people you pawned his ring to, he admired that. You couldn't give yourself away, now.

"But haven't you heard?" The redhead leaned in, waving you all to listen closer. "Geta hasn't invited any of the girls that wait at the empire gates in, in weeks." 

You'd often trailed in past that very line of girls in question, much to their growing displeasure. Luckily, none of them were from the side of the country you had resided. None of them could spread your name around in whispers, as they did not know it.

"I'm still eager to take my chances." The brunette joked, going on to beg you to come to the games at the colosseum.

"I don't know." Was the best answer you could give without disappointing your friends, or thinking up a messy lie on the spot.  

///

Another night in Geta's room was unusually spent in his bed. You'd been used to being forced against a chest of drawers, his voice growling in your ear. Or yours demanding the emperor sit on the stool before the table of wine, and wait in agony like a good, obedient, merciful ruler.

But tonight, Geta had you moving slower in his sheets. He'd closed his eyes as your hips rocked atop his, nice and easy. And when he reached to flip you over, his core pierced languidly into yours. His hand brushed across your cheek and his eyes stayed steadily locked on yours.

"Are you feeling quite alright?" You couldn't help but worry, too overcome with the silence that fell about the room. Geta had been resting at your side, his finger tracing the same pattern against your stomach forever.

"What if you stayed, tonight?" The ruler asked, after a while.

"You didn't answer my question. You realized, still confused as to what mood you'd found Geta in tonight. You'd been often surprised by his wit and his resolution. But this wasn't a way you'd known the emperor before. 

"You didn't answer mine either." He pointed, finger still dancing across the skin of your abdomen. You turned your head to find Geta's gaze. His head rested on a pillow at your side, his eyes rolling up to lock with yours. His dark brown stare was illuminating. His curls graced his head so delicately. His silence was so reticent this night. Maybe it was the fact neither of you had had any wine.

"I'll stay if you tell me what's going on in that head of yours." You shot a pointed look to the man at your side who let a lifeless smile flash across his lips as his eyes turned away from yours. Silence filled the room once more, but you got the sense that Geta was choosing his words a while. 

"Nothing... none of this is how I thought it would be." Geta spoke. You kept your eyes cast across his amber lit room, fixating on the pattern of the wallpaper. What did he mean? 

"What's this?" You quizzed. "Ruling an empire? Sleeping with me? Sobriety from wine for a night?" You tried to joke, desperate for some kind of clarity.

"None of it." Geta responded, his inflection implying everything you listed was weighing on his mind then. And that surprised you. He was always surprising you. Silence settled yet again, and stayed for a while. It was Geta who broke it, after so long. He sat up to meet your eye, searching your gaze before offering a nod. You nodded back, knowing that meant your promise to stay here had been sealed. He rose from the bed to dim the candles, and crashed back into it with a sigh. 

When Geta rested his head of golden curls on your chest, in the dark and quiet of his room, you finally understood what he meant. This was all very different now, than it started. None of it had turned out in an expected way. But you felt at ease with it all. You hadn't shared a bed with anyone since your late husband, and those times simply did not count in your mind. You did not care for that man as you had come to care for the one laying against you now. And that dawned on you in fear. But then, a realization that it didn't matter. Not now. Now, you got to rest under the weight of the emperor, for one peaceful night.

///

The next morning was bright and felt early in your bones. And it wasn't long before it hit you, the games were meant to happen today. Geta's stirring at your side was a relished wonder, as his smile widened to see you upon waking. But it all came crashing down as servants and soldiers demanded quick work of getting up and ready for the day of events. 

"It will be too hard to send you away now, with all the crowds starting to gather." Geta realized, peering from the window of his room to the public below. "I'll have some appropriate attire sent for you. You shall join us today." The emperor's smile was bitten back, but you saw it reached his eyes as his looked into yours. 

Things were shifting with Geta. Night's were turning into days with him. Festivities were offered to be shared. You knew better than to ask. You knew better than to wonder why. You simply thanked him for his offer and waited for clothes to change into as the leader headed out of his room, yelling for a guard to hurry along and follow. You milled about Geta's room, admiring the wallpaper in the daylight. Admiring the stained glass of his window. You traced your finger along carved chests and bed posts. You dared to open a drawer, finding a collection of jewelry there, a familiar blue stoned ring at the front of the collection. 

You snapped the drawer shut in a hurry when a knock came across the door. 

"Hello." A familiar face entered. Julia, the Emperors mother, twirled in the room with a stack of garments. "These are mine from seasons past. I brought a few, just in case." The woman was dear, with soft curls that matched her sons, gold earrings that brightened her blue eyes. She smiled and introduced herself as if she needed too. For her, you bowed.

"Such a pretty thing, you are." Julia cooed, resting her clothes at the foot of the emperor's bed before turning to consider you. "I've seen you come and go. Quite the feat to boast over. Geta never struggled to make friends, not like Caracalla. But he has failed to keep so many of them."

 Julia kept a studying gaze on you as you thanked her for her kindness and watched her saunter out the door. The woman told you to meet the family downstairs once you readied yourself. That's when a certain anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach. What was this? What had you gotten yourself into? Worry plagued your mind as you squeezed into a bright blue and plum skirt. The fabric hugged at your figure but fell so elegantly to the floor. You never dreamed of such finery adorning you. You'd never dreamed of a life so different from the one you'd been used to living.

Downstairs, everyone had gathered, gearing up to head out. Guards of every kind kept the ruling brothers on either side of the room while Julia flitted about, laughing with a man you didn't know. Senators and councilors seemed to mingle with the family just as well, their wives and children patiently lingering on the outskirts of the gathering. 

When Julia found you descending the stairs her first greeting after a smile was to tell you how perfectly the dress fit, how powerful you seemed entering the room. She said you held a certain presence about you, keeping a watchful eye on your expression as you gushed to thank her for such continued kindness.

And then you were off, trailing with the wives and the children of the party as the royal family presented themselves before the public. They were loved and hated so that the cheers and boo's from the crowd muddled together in an indistinguishable roar. Your heart pounded to realize how close you were to the action of the day, to realize how viscerally the opinion of the public mattered to the fate of the royals.

You watched Caracalla pull some face, pointing a finger at a citizen who cursed his name on the families walk toward the colosseum. You watched women line themselves along the path Geta walked, his politics be damned. You watched as he turned to look back, smile stretching wider as his eyes found yours. You watched then, as Julia stalled to join your side, and failed to calm the quickening of your heart as she held your arm to walk with you. None of this was how it used to be.

The woman leaned in, explaining exactly how today's games were meant to go. She yammered about the history of it all and pulled a few giggles from your throat as she threw in some personal deadly details about old games she'd bore witness too.

Once you'd all reached the colosseum, the brothers were ushered off to find their royal box, while Julia strategically placed you just outside of there. She frowned when she reminded you could not be allowed to join them further than here, but smiled when she hoped you'd enjoy the day's events. You watched her saunter off, stopping a guard and pointing in your direction before she disappeared in the box all the while. The guard locked his gaze with yours, offering a respectful nod as you considered your surroundings. 

All kinds of vendors and stalls were open around every entrance of the arena. All kinds of people wandered about, sampling food and drink, playing cards at tables until the event's kicked off. You decidedly began to wander about, accepting free samples and smiling to people you'd seen in passing. You shielded your eyes from the sun and noticed that guard trailing nearby, keeping a steady eye on your every move. 

When the crowds began to clamor toward the inside of the arena, you realized the games were about to begin. You downed a free sample of wine and found your way to watch from afar. Caracalla and Geta were announced in, and greeted with that same muddled roar of praise and disregard. You watched as Geta ate up the attention. You watched as Caracalla fought against it, spitting and arguing with some poor guard in the box. There was something so volatile in the air, as if one wrong move from either of the emperors would unleash havoc. The public was only one excitable realization away from realizing their joined forces could rip the royals from limb to limb. Geta was quick to shift focus to the games, demanding the publics energy be reserved for the battles that were begun, turning the spotlight away from himself. It was a tactical move, but you worried if he and his brother did not change the course of their political actions soon, no amount of pantomime could save them.

Another few swallows of wine helped ease your nerves, all the while. You'd forgotten how on edge the public had only just seemed. You'd been entranced by Geta's presence even from so many miles away. His distraction's had worked wonders on the crowd, his excitable reactions to the winners and losers kept the arena entertained for the better, for now. He kept you entertained all the while. When he would tear his gaze from the games every once and a while, you liked to imagine he was looking for wherever you might've been.

When you wandered off to find more wine, the guard that had been following you stayed back, glued to the battle that was happening. You returned with two cups, to share. The guard tried to deny your kindness but caved with a smile at your insistence to have at least one drink. It was a day of festivities after all. 

"We thought you weren't going to make it!" A voice familiar echoed over your ear. Turning from the view of the battle, you found your friends. You chuckled as you greeted the small brunette, buzzed enough off wine to shrug your nerves away. You couldn't exactly explain how you ended up here, to them. Or how you'd come to dress so finely. But they didn't pester you too much about it, drunk all the same. The girls swarmed you with giggles and hello's and how are you's. 

"Change your mind, have you?" The blonde teased, raising her brow at you. But your mind was too slow to understand why. 

"This is the gate the royals always leave from. Isn't it obvious?" The small brunette pointed, waving her hand to gesture around. When you glanced up, you noticed a particularly increasing population of young women that had begun to collect around the area. Geta always famously exited from this path, and always famously collected a girl or two to follow him back to the royal hall.

"Oh, no, I just sort of-" You stumbled over words, "ended up on this side." How were you to explain this all away? "I actually... should be going now that it's nearing an end. Get home before sun set." This reason sounded good enough in your head to speak aloud, as you began to walk backward, waving to your friends all the while. You spun on your heels, anxious to get away, making up your mind to head home should that be your only sound escape. But you'd barely walked a dozen paces before that guard was gliding close and halting your leave.

"You're not to go. I'm to see you united with her highness when she passes through that exit."

"Is- is that what she ordered?" You asked meekly, looking up to the roman soldier who loomed over you with his bulky build, yet kind eyes. The man did not speak, but lifted a hand to spin you around by the shoulder, placing a gentle palm there to guide you back where you came from. You saw your friends notice, perplexed gaze's settled on your march as you stepped closer to where they'd stayed waiting.

Caracalla was the first one to storm through the arched entrance, scowling at you on his storm toward his chariot. But then, a spectator, too drunk for his own good, began to slur insults to the emperor. The fellow had barely began cursing Caracalla's name, before the ruler stepped close to grab the man by his throat, strong enough to lift him to the tips of his dirty toes. The citizen struggled to breathe, squirming for relief. Caracalla shouted in the man's face, something about knowing better. The ruler let go, the citizen dropped to the floor in a rattled gasp. When Caracalla demanded the guards that followed him, to slaughter the citizen still choking for breath on the ground, you'd had enough.

"Do not do that. Have you such little mercy?" It wasn't to be helped, the way your body and mind worked together to force out a shout. You should have been more afraid of the way Caracalla turned to fix his fiery gaze on you. But rage at the senseless violence was all you could feel. Yet, the guards were already slashing their swords at the belly of the the citizen, so he might suffer still before passing. 

Caracalla stood considering you, longer than you expected. The crowds fell silent, the only noises were the hoarse cries from the dying man. And your heart hammering in place. 

Caracalla moved his look from you, to the guard steady at your side, and back to you. His head shook, and a scoff left his throat. He turned to leave, kicking the man he'd murdered on his exit. Your body shook with panic. Your stomach churned at the realization that you'd escaped yet another royal execution. 

The crowds parted to let Caracalla pass, steering clear of the angry little man. Your friends seemed to think of walking closer to where the guard had stalled you to wait. But their confounded and horrified expressions morphed into something more wonder filled, as their collective eye unfocused from your position. 

You were too busy assessing your friend's questioning gazes to see he'd appeared. But instead, you heard Geta's voice in your ear. 

"I'd say you're lucky he spared you. But I think there are more powerful forces than luck working on your side."  You heard him say. Your friend's gazes had no doubt been locked on the emperor, but soon fell more perplexed onto you, yet again. And then you realized everyone's eyes had shifted to you. The entire crowd that had watched you speak against the vindictive leader just ahead. The same crow that had pushed closer to wait for a scrap of attention from the man that spoke to only you, now, was casting a collective stupefied glare right at you. 

"I'd like to take you away now, but I'll have you wait on my mother. She hasn't stopped bringing up your name since this day has begun." Geta stayed speaking lowly, and you nodded to assure you understood, keeping your nervous gaze cast on the crowd that had fixated their attentions on you. "Do not worry though, tonight we can debrief in more ways than one." 

You had to turn and grin at him then, pleased to see he'd waited to share a smirk with you. He was off no sooner though, parting through the crowd with little acknowledgement their way. Your friends kept their slack jawed gazes set on you as you wondered for a beat about saying something to them. But then Julia was sweeping you away, resting her clutch at the bend of your arm like she'd done before.

They watched you leave, just as everyone had. You shot your friends a quick shrug and an expression you hoped they'd understand meant you'd catch them all up later, if ever you could dream up a good enough fib.

Unlike your journey here, Julia asked all about you on your trek back. You gave thoughtful answers, not daring to spare the truth of your meager life to the woman, but hoping the way you spoke of it would endear you to her somehow. It wasn't like you needed to be adored by Julia. But you did long to be respected in some basic human way, by the royal woman.

///

That evening went on strangely. Caracalla locked himself away in the furthest parts of the halls. No one dared speak about him in his absence. No one had dared to allude to his fury or righteousness at all. Instead, the tone of the evening was rather merry. You shared a meal with a mile long table of strangers, glad all the while to have been welcomed in the celebrations of the day. You gabbed with socialites and senators alike, until one by one they headed for home and bed. Try as you might to take your leave, Julia would not let you. She only kept dragging you from guest to guest to introduce. Until you were the last one standing. Until even Julia had made her exit from the room, Geta too. Leaving you to wait in the parlor until further command. 

A pair of guards stood unmoving near the doors, as you sat at the head of the dirty table. There were plates and glasses and saucers left awry, covered in crumbs for the kitchen maids to come and handle. There was a steady crackling fire on the opposite end of the room. There was wallpaper that didn't put your senses at ease the way the kind in Geta's room often had.

When the sound of the door opening stirred you from blank thoughts, you shifted to stand. Julia was easing into the room, smile and curls soft as ever. Eye's full of a certain kind of knowing. Behind her, Geta followed. His mother spoke your name, as if to grab your attention, as if she didn't already have it. 

"You're not to return home." The woman began, gliding to stall before you. Geta shouldered past her, moving to stand at your side and watching as his mother spoke. "I've noticed you come and go, as I mentioned." Julia went on. "And I've noticed how my son has been less fraught, during the time you've been around. I've heard you speak, and I've seen you command a presence in any room you enter."  

"What are you on about? What is this?" Geta demanded, that brooding gaze of his beginning to darken as understanding evaded him. 

"As good as she has been for you, son, I'm certain she'll benefit our empire just as well." Julia glanced to Geta before her gaze settled unmovably on yours. Your chest filled with the weight of a realization. Your mind buzzed with wonders of her implications. "You will marry in two days time. Enough to spread the news across the public, and plan something grand."

"Marry?" You breathed, feeling your heart hammer in your stomach. 

"You actually don't-" Geta began.

"I actually am watching this empire teeter on the edge of collapse." Julia interrupted Geta, causing his jaw to clench and his brow to darken further than before. "If we do not start moving more intentionally in the direction of change, you and your brother will ruin everything. If you marry this girl, you will marry someone from the very public you've been so often accused of dismissing. This girl is clearly capable of not only earning our family greater public favor. But she would be your bride, and you two together would have a better chance of making sense of this empire than your brother. Caracalla cannot be allowed to overpower your rule, Geta. Do you realize how close that idea is to becoming our reality?" Julia was insistent. "You do not have a choice. This has to happen. For all our fates." She was looking right at you again.

You were shaken, stunned, totally unprepared. Just days ago you were living such a carefree reality, all you knew were paints and pleasure by way of the emperor's hands. But now all of a sudden, all of Rome's fate depended on if you stayed standing here or made a break to sprint for the door.

"Get out." Geta pointed, coldly dismissing his mother. She began to argue back, pleading his name to listen. "Get out! I command it!" Geta was fuming, rage becoming his entire essence. You couldn't help but screw your eyes shut at the boom of his voice. You heard a guard approach to see the royal mother out of the door. She went without a fight, but insisted Geta had no choice, insisting she was already making plans to assure this fate for the both of you. As one guard saw her out of the room, the other followed, leaving you and Geta alone in the room with the ugly wallpaper.

The fire stayed crackling in the corner. The table stayed dirty. Geta began to pace, like he did, hands on his hips, head shaking in an effort to make sense of things. 

"You are quiet." He spoke up, softer than he had spoken all night.

"I am choiceless." You warbled. Hadn't this already happened to you? Hadn't you already been forced to wed a man for the betterment of some kind of future? You thought you'd already paid your dues. You thought freedom was supposed to be promised at some point. You thought you'd had it, just days ago. But even still you were captured by the powers that be. It wasn't like you were opposed to being Geta's bride. But you were rocked to realize it didn't matter what you wanted, in this life. It was just going to keep happening to you, against you, despite you.

You watched as Geta sped up his pace, thinking. His eyes danced as if to keep up with an invisible coming together idea. And then his moving stalled. He rolled his shoulders and let his eyes rake up your figure, like they so often did. Geta's brown stare bore into yours, as if to search for an answer to a question not yet asked.

"You claim to have been born to die." Geta gestured, sauntering closer. "I claim to have been born to rule. But we have failed to consider what there could be to live for. I have reason to believe my answer to living lies within you." His speech was imploring. He meant it. He only ever spoke with authority, by that you weren't surprised. But by his meaning, by the tenderness in it, you were. "As ruler, I shall make the final decision regarding my mother's demands. But... I shall also wait here in silence as you choose your fate. I will command no guard after you should you flee. This time, this wedding, you'll be allowed to choose."

"Should I flee, will there be fines? Will I forever be in your debt somehow?"

"I shall see to it that you owe nothing to this empire if you leave it. But you must leave it entirely, you must go far from here. It's the only way I could make these guarantees."

"Should I stay..."

Geta loomed closer, until his breath fanned across your face. So close you could see the golds speckled across the brown of his eyes. Close enough to kiss.

"I would see to your value." Geta breathed, stalling an inch before you. "Your profile on coins. Your voice heard above others. Your throne... My bed... I'd see to it."

Your heart hadn't stopped pounding since this conversation spun to life. But it beat harder yet, at Geta's tone and implication now.

"Take my hand." Geta held an open face palm before you. "Or turn away." You glanced to the door. 

You considered all that lie beyond it, the quiet, the vastness. The race to the finish line of life would be slow and steady outside these doors. Your freedom would be quiet and lonely. Then you turned to Geta and saw a different kind of future to consider. And then a thought dawned on you. What if the freedom you'd always been in search of, was not just yours alone? What if an entire empires fate had always been pressed into the back of your heart, clear in the front of your mind only now that you understood everything Julia had said. You thought of your latest painting. The one with the sheep and the sunset. You wondered if maybe it was a sunrise all along. 

Your hand flexed, knuckles deciding between clenching and raising up. Until suddenly your palm was in Getas. Until suddenly your fate, and all of Rome's, had been sealed.

///

Part 2 Coming Soon...

[dostoyevsky-official]

The Crypto Plot Against America’s Gold Reserves

The crypto “industry” was one of the biggest spenders in the 2024 election. It practically single-handedly bought a U.S. Senate seat in Ohio, turfing out labor’s most reliable senator, Sherrod Brown, with $40 million in advertising. And it convinced Donald Trump to make a 180 with a big sack of campaign contributions. Back in 2021, Trump said crypto was a “scam,” but now he has his own coin, his media site is in discussions to buy a crypto exchange, and he’s fully bought into the claims that the industry is overregulated.

So now that crypto has bought great political influence, it’s time to cash in. How might this happen? The basic idea is to turn the American government into the biggest crypto bag-holder of all time. If the plan goes through, hundreds of billions of dollars of public assets will be spent or leveraged to buy a million Bitcoins, allowing the tiny minority of Bitcoin moguls to finally cash out their holdings into real money. It would be one of the biggest upward transfers of wealth in world history.

[...] Crypto shill Sen. Cynthia Lummis (R-WY) proposes the Treasury issue new gold certificates based on the market price [of American gold reserves], and use the resulting cash—$677 billion at current prices—to buy up Bitcoins. In total, her bill would require the government to buy up 200,000 Bitcoins a year for five years, until a “strategic reserve” of a million would be accumulated.

This is revealing on several levels. The whole ideology of cryptocurrency is that it’s supposed to be outside the alleged corruption of governments or the extant financial system. Instead of transactions taking place on platforms run by Wall Street and regulated by the D.C. swamp, fiercely independent crypto entrepreneurs would build new businesses doing … something … out in a fresh economic Wild West.

So why on earth would buccaneering crypto people want the government scooping up a million Bitcoins—or about 5 percent of all that exist? The reason is obvious: so paper Bitcoin billionaires can cash out their holdings into real money without tanking the market. [...] The fundamental value of Bitcoin is zero. Even by crypto standards, the coin is terrible.

[...] Therefore, for early Bitcoin adopters sitting on vast piles of purely speculative assets, there is a huge structural need to get new suckers into the market. For anyone concerned about the corrosive role of money in politics, think about what this means: The crypto industry spent something on the order of $100 million in this election to install a government that will lure sacrificial lambs to a digital asset slaughterhouse, and make a handful of big Bitcoin hoarders generationally wealthy in the exchange.

[...] No one has deeper pockets than the federal government. No need to directly pick the pockets of suckers looking for a get-rich-quick scheme if you can pick everyone’s pockets indirectly by looting a vast store of treasure held in trust for the American people. It’s a logical end point for a technology whose sole meaningful use case is enabling criminal extortion and money laundering: finally carrying out the bank robber’s dream of draining the value in Fort Knox.

[whencyclopedia]

Jobs in Ancient Egypt

In ancient Egypt, the people sustained the government and the government reciprocated. Egypt had no cash economy until the coming of the Persians in 525 BCE. The people worked the land, the government collected the bounty and then distributed it back to the people according to their need and merit. Although there were many more glamorous jobs than farming, farmers were the backbone of the Egyptian economy and sustained everyone else. These farmers knew how to enjoy themselves, greeting the day as another opportunity to make the earth yield food, but looked forward to relaxation time at festivals because they worked so hard, so long, every day; but, in ancient Egypt, so did everyone else.

Egypt operated on a barter system up until the Persian invasion of 525 BCE and the economy was based on agriculture. The monetary unit of ancient Egypt was the deben which, according to historian James C. Thompson, "functioned much as the dollar does in North America today to let customers know the price of things, except that there was no deben coin" (Egyptian Economy, 1). A deben was "approximately 90 grams of copper; very expensive items could also be priced in debens of silver or gold with proportionate changes in value" (ibid). Thompson continues:

Since seventy-five litters of wheat cost one deben and a pair of sandals also cost one deben, it made perfect sense to the Egyptians that a pair of sandals could be purchased with a bag of wheat as easily as with a chunk of copper. Even if the sandal maker had more than enough wheat, she would happily accept it in payment because it could easily be exchanged for something else. The most common items used to make purchases were wheat, barley, and cooking or lamp oil, but in theory almost anything would do. (1)

Laborers were often paid in bread and beer, the staples of the Egyptian diet. If they wanted something else, they needed to be able to offer a skill or some product of value, as Thompson points out. Fortunately for the people, there were many needs which had to be met.

The Satire of the Trades

The commonplace items taken for granted today - a brush, a bowl, a cup - had to be made by hand. In order to have paper to write on, papyrus plants had to be harvested, processed, and distributed, laundry had to be washed by hand, clothing sewn, sandals made, and each of these jobs had their own rewards but also difficulties. Simply doing laundry could mean risking one's life. Laundry was washed by the banks of the Nile River which was home to crocodiles, snakes, and the occasional hippopotamus. The reed cutter, who harvested papyrus plants along the Nile, also had to face these same hazards daily.

These jobs were all held by those at the bottom of the Egyptian social hierarchy and are described in withering detail in a famous literary work from the Middle Kingdom of Egypt (2040-1782 BCE) known as The Satire of the Trades. This piece (also known as The Instructions of Dua-Khety) is a monologue in which a father, bringing his son to school, describes for the boy all of the difficult and nasty jobs which people have to do every day and compares these to the comfortable and rewarding life of the scribe. Although the piece is obviously satirical in its exaggerated depictions, the description of jobs and their difficulty is accurate.

The father characterizes the life of the carpenter as "miserable" and how the field hand on farms "cries out forever" while the weaver is "wretched" (Simpson, 434). The arrow maker wears himself out trying to gather raw materials and the merchant has to leave home with no guarantee of returning and finding his family intact. The washerman "launders at the riverbank in the vicinity of the crocodile" and his children want nothing to do with him because he is always covered in other people's filth. The fisherman is "more miserable than any other profession" because he must count on his good catch in a day to make a living and must also contend with the dangers in the water which often catch him unawares as "no one told him that a crocodile was standing there" and he is swiftly taken (Simpson, 435). All of these jobs are described in great detail in order to impress on the boy that he should embrace the life of the scribe, the greatest job one could have, as he tells his son:

It is to writings that you must set your mind. See for yourself, it saves one from work. Behold, there is nothing that surpasses writings!...I do not see an office to be compared with it, to which this maxim could relate: I shall make you love books more than your mother and I shall place their excellence before you. It is indeed greater than any office. There is nothing like it on earth. (Simpson, 432-433)

The writer of the Satire, obviously a scribe himself, may have exaggerated somewhat for effect but his argument is basically sound: the occupation of scribe was among the most comfortable in ancient Egypt and certainly compared favorably with most jobs.

Continue reading...

[galesbabygirl]

ode to berry tarts

☾ alfira x reader ☽

⟡ 2710 words

you and alfira are two bards, busking in baldur's gate to make a living. when you make some extra cash, you splurge on some nice desserts. it's so delicious you can't help but share a second helping.

⟡ tags: bard tav, friends to lovers, fluff and smut, musical references, kissing, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, scissoring, tribadism, multiple orgasms, unnamed tav, pov second person

⟡ read on ao3 ⟡

“Thank you!” You link arms with Alfira as you bow together, an audience of city dwellers and refugees captivated by your performance. You blow kisses to them as they toss gold coins your way, the case for Alfira’s lute collecting the cash. “We’ll be back for more tomorrow,” you call to the crowd, “so make sure to spread the word!”

You and Alfira smile fondly at each other as the hype dies down – you never would have expected that after managing to escape the Shadow Curse you would find success in your greatest passion of performing music for adoring fans. Yet, here you are, arm in arm, waving goodbye to dozens of people who stopped just to listen to you play.

As you strap your instrument to your back, Alfira bends down to count your earnings. “I think this is the most gold yet!” She stands, grinning ear to ear, palms full of coins.

“Let’s have something nice tonight,” you suggest. “A fancy dessert, ooh, or maybe one of those nice bottles of liqueur they have behind the bar!” You’ve been renting out a room at the Elfsong Tavern since you arrived in Baldur’s Gate, and spent many lunches eyeing the expensive alcohols kept behind the counter. You’ve earned enough thus far to stay afloat, enough for your room and board, but little extra spending money.

“That sounds fantastic.” Alfira collects all of the money from her lute case, the pouch she carries it in almost too full to tie shut. After placing her instrument back in its carrying case, she slings its strap over her shoulder. “Let’s do it now.”

“I like the way you think.” Hooking your elbow around hers once more, the two of you start to walk the short distance back to the tavern.

Before meeting Alfira, you had never known such a bond – bards were few and far between where you came from, and no one has ever appreciated your theatricality the way she does. You’re two sides of the same coin, in perfect harmony. Every chord and lyric resonate wherever you go together. You almost forget who you were before her – if you were ever more than a lone note begging for accompaniment.

You feel alive as you enter the Elfsong, the spirit of showmanship emanating through the air. You’re comforted by the chatter and warmth. It feels like home. Though, anywhere would with Alfira by your side.

“Alan Alyth,” Alfira calls out to the bartender in a sing-song voice, approaching him with the coin pouch in hand. “We’ve made a killing today and we’re looking for a nice dessert. What’ve you got?”

You take a seat on a barstool as he answers, “As it happens, Chef Roveer has just whipped up some berry tarts. Fresh as can be.”

“We’ll take two,” Alfira says, two fingers up in the air. “Oh, and some of that honeycomb, if you still have it.”

“That we do.”

“Perfect!”

While Alan packs up your desserts, you scan the shelves for something to drink. “How much for the Tyche Pink?”

Glancing behind him, he answers, “Twelve gold for the bottle.” He raises an eyebrow, turning to catch your eyes, “You interested?”

You and Alfira exchange a look of childlike joy – sure, it would be wiser to save your change, to have a nest egg for a rainy day, but this parade was rainproof. Just this once, the two of you deserved to splurge. “We’ll take that, and a bottle of the Highsun Liqueur.”

“Look at you, big spenders.” Alan sets your purchases on the counter, adding up the cost. “That would be thirty-three gold, but for you girls I’ll throw on a discount. Thirty, all in.”

“Thanks, Alan,” Alfira says, the corners of her eyes crinkling from her smile. She counts out the gold on the counter, an impressively small dent being made in your payout.

“I ought to hire you to play in here,” he says. “The Laff Riot doesn’t bring people in like it used to.”

“Any time you want, we’re in,” you say, Alfira nodding in kind. “Thanks again!” You pick up the two bottles while Alfira takes the package of treats from the counter, and you head off to your room.

After locking the door shut behind you, you and Alfira place your goods on the rug in the centre of the room – there’s a small table in the corner, but you’ve made a habit of sharing drinks on the floor as if having a picnic. Alfira fetches pillows from the beds, tossing one directly at your head. You would have expected her to have better hand-eye coordination for someone who makes a living plucking strings, but her aim could use some serious work. “Hey,” you call out playfully.

Alfira covers her mouth with both hands. “Sorry!”

“I can’t believe you can sing and play the lute at the same time, but you can’t throw a cushion without hitting me in the face.” You chortle as you sit down on the makeshift seat.

“I’m a bard, not a barbarian!”

“So am I,” you say as you uncork a bottle, “which is why I don’t throw things.”

“Bah.” Alfira, sitting down across from you, takes the Tyche Pink right from your hand, taking a sip straight from the bottle. Her eyes widen as the flavour coats her tongue. “This is delicious!” She hands it back to you.

Taking a taste, you say, “Wow. We’re never going to be able to drink cheap wine again.”

“Good thing we have a job lined up here, then.” She opens up your bundle of confections, licking her lips as she eyes the tarts. She picks one up and lifts it to her lips, bending down its foil lining to take a bite, its fruity aroma wafting through the air. She lets out a sigh and an “Mm,” as she chews. Too bad for Alan she’s not eating it in front of the tavern’s patrons; this would be an excellent advertisement.

Alfira’s palpable delight is enough for you to pick up your tart and take a bite. It’s as good as her reaction suggests. “Okay,” you say, “we need to get rich.”

“I concur.”

You sit together in comfortable silence as you indulge in the pleasures of decadence. You take turns drinking Tyche Pink from the bottle until you run out, then popping open your liqueur. You tap pieces of honeycomb together saying, “Cheers!” The alcohol begins to take effect, both of you giggling over nothing and everything.

Once you’ve finished your feast, you reposition yourself, laying on your belly with your head propped up in your hands. You look at Alfira, who still sits upright, pink beginning to peek through her blue cheeks – an effect of liquor you’ve seen on her before. It makes her look so sweet; sweeter even than your tarts, your liqueur, or your honeycomb. Despite what she’s been through, she radiates an aura of contagious jubilance. She begins humming an unfamiliar tune, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “New song?” you ask.

“Maybe,” she answers. “Ode to Berry Tarts.”

“Ode to Tyche Pink,” you suggest.

“Ode to Honeycomb and Liqueur.”

“Perfect.”

“You know,” she says, rolling down to lie on her back, head on her pillow, “I thought I would never write again when Lihala died.” You feel her ache. You reach out a hand to hers, which she holds, fingers fiddling with yours. “You made me love music again.”

“Well I would be nothing without your strings and your voice. Music needs you as much as we need it.”

Alfira lets go of your hand, turning over to face you. “You’re my muse. I need you.” There’s a beat of silence, her intensity like tiny bolts of lightning in the air. She breaks your eye contact. “You and the tarts,” she chuckles.

You sit up. “I need you, too, Alfira.” Her eyes meet yours once more. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Alfira’s lips curl into a smile. “I love you, too.” She sits up, sidling next to you and pulls you in for a tight embrace. You breathe in her scent; her hair smells like ripe nectarines, and her breath has a faint aroma of the berries from the tarts. As you pull away from the hug, your eyes catch her lips, pink and pretty like rose petals. You feel so close to her now – closer than ever before. Perhaps the dessert or the wine contained some kind of aphrodisiac, or maybe you’ve finally unearthed the feelings of enchantment and adoration for Alfira that you had buried when you became friends – just friends – but the chemistry is unmistakable. You feel an irrepressible force urging you to press your lips to hers, to run your hands through her hair and down her back, like you’re two marionettes controlled by a voyeuristic puppeteer.

“Alfira, I–”

Before you have a chance to process your thoughts, or wonder if your longing is too inappropriate to act upon, Alfira presses her lips to yours. Every moment before this suddenly becomes clear – the glances you’ve shared, her ever-present hand on your waist, the nights spent talking instead of sleeping. It was all for this moment. For you to realize that your bond was bigger, stronger, than you allowed yourself to imagine.

You sink into her kiss. It’s slow, deliberate. She holds your hands in hers, fingertips warm against your skin. That lingering taste of berries and wine meets between you like it was never meant to be apart. All is right.

When you separate, Alfira stutters out, “I-I don’t just need you. I want you.”

You should feel nervous, you think, but you don’t. Alfira is your everything – there is nothing she could do that isn’t exactly what you need from her. “You can have me.”

With that, your action is immediate. She stands, offering a hand for you to take. She lifts you up, pulling you by the hand to her bed on one side of the room. She lies on her back, you following in suit, climbing atop her. You kiss her deeply, your breasts pressing against hers. Allegro heartbeats flutter in your chests. You caress her jaw in your left hand, her hands wandering down to your hips. Warmth courses through you. You belong in her arms.

You move your kisses down her jawline, shaky breaths next to your ear. In a whisper so low you almost can’t hear, she utters, “Take off your clothes.” You obey immediately, straddling her waist as you strip off your top, breasts exposed. You’ve changed in front of each other before, but never have you so brazenly displayed yourself to her. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have to resist the urge to watch as she bared herself in your shared quarters. Now, though, you help her to remove her blouse. You’re in control. You choose the exact moment that her shirt lifts over her head, her pretty pink nipples contrasting against her blue skin like cherry blossoms under a sunny sky. After discarding your clothes, you lean down, taking her breast into your mouth, flicking against her erect nipple with your tongue. She moans softly, pianissimo. Every sound she makes is music to your ears, better than any other song you’ve heard her sing before, and knowing you’re its composer fuels you.

“I want to taste you,” Alfira says, so hungry.

“More dessert?”

“Mmhm.” She takes you by the waist and rolls you over so she’s above you now. Wordlessly, she undoes your trousers, and shimmies them down your hips along with your panties. She wastes no time positioning herself, draping your legs over her shoulders, her tail up in the air, practically wagging in anticipation. She takes a finger, stroking it across your slit, frictionless from your arousal. She plants kisses along your inner thigh, inching closer to your heat. Finally, she takes her index and middle fingers, parting your lips and quickly tracing her tongue from bottom to top, a shiver coursing through you. “I didn’t think it could get better than the tarts,” she says, leaving no room for a reply before diving in, her mouth encasing your cunt, licking you like her life depends on your pleasure.

“Gods, Alfira!” It comes from your mouth gutturally, forced out of you by her continuous motion in all the right places. Just when you think it can’t feel better she inserts a finger into you, curling it toward herself as if hooking you in. You hold onto her by one of her horns, your other hand grabbing a fistful of her hair, thrusting yourself against her as she eats you out. “I’m gonna–” You can’t finish your sentence; it’s too intense. You moan at an unrestrained volume, Alfira not slowing down. You feel your walls clench around her finger, pulsing against her skin, your clit throbbing on her tongue.

She seems pleased with her efforts, smiling at you with heavy eyelids. You pull her up to kiss her. You taste yourself on her lips. You’re insatiable, your appetite only growing stronger. “Naked,” you command. “Now.” You gesture at the pants she still wears, and she obliges, climbing down from the bed and removing them.

Finally, for the first time, you see all of her. Every glorious bit of her skin, yours for the taking. You wish you could spend the rest of your life studying her, committing it all to memory, framing portraits on the walls of your mind. Her pert breasts, soft belly, the curve of her hips, her plump ass partially concealed by her tail – every part of her is perfect.

“Come here and sit on my face,” you direct her.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who wants more dessert,” she says through a giggle. You roll your eyes playfully as she mounts you, her cunt so close you can see its pink creases among the azure. She’s damp like the dewy petals of a rose at dawn. You grab her ass, fingertips sinking into her soft flesh, pulling her to your mouth. You extend your tongue, grazing her pussy slowly, her juices dripping down your tongue. The berry tarts were a fine first course, but this, this is the most exquisite flavour you’ve ever had the luxury of tasting. Alfira’s breath hitches above you, her clit sensitive. This doesn’t stop you. No, if anything it makes you need her more. You kiss her cunt, your tongue sneaking its way between her labia. You savour every drop of her.

Alfira’s hands grip to the headboard as she begins to grind on your face. Her moans reverberate through the air like a song. You memorize the sound. This one is just for you.

She unravels on top of you, a whine of bliss escaping her lips. She sighs contentedly as she comes down from her high, crawling next to you on the bed and kissing your forehead.

You lick your lips, staring into her citrine eyes. She holds your face in her palm, thumb stroking your blushing cheek. Your hand grazes her side, ending on her breast. She mirrors you, massaging your breast in her hand, before sitting back up. Your eyes follow her movement. At first you wonder what she’s doing, but she pushes your legs wide open as you roll onto your back once more. She brings her cunt down on yours, and a new world is opened up before you. She slides across you, your wetness combining, your pussies throbbing against each other. You pull up your leg, spreading yourself for better access. Your clits meet one another over and over, her speed picking up as you both crescendo. You watch her breasts bounce above you as her pace reaches its peak – in perfect harmony you climax in tandem, a chorus of purrs exhaled from you both. Her body nearly crumbles down on yours. She falls into your arms, where you lie together catching your breath.

After a moment of silent reprieve, you hear in a quiet, sleepy voice, “I love you.”

You smile to yourself, looking down at Alfira, baring it all in your arms, eyes closed as she breathes slow breaths. “I love you, too.”

[darkmaga-returns]

Commentary by Brian Shilhavy Editor, Health Impact News

I want to start out this article by stating that I do NOT give out financial advice. I like to publish facts and information that may not be popular elsewhere, and I may sometimes allude to what I am doing regarding finances.

But there is no one-size-fits-all financial “truth” when it comes to managing one’s own finances or investing, and you should be wary of those who promote such one-size-fits-all views, and see if they have any economic motive for their “advice”.

How you manage your finances and invest depends on a variety of factors, including what it is you want to accomplish, and sometimes it is better to ignore financial advice from “the experts”, and use just plain old common sense.

I start from a thoroughly “prepper” mindset, as I have since 1998 when I started prepping for Y2K, and my goals and financial principles have been more refined from a “prepper mindset” since 2020 and the COVID Scam.

That means I am a financial pessimist, and believe that the entire system could collapse any day now, and I prepare accordingly.

In the event of a loss of infrastructure, where either electricity or the Internet, or both, become unavailable, one must understand how the economy will operate under such dire circumstances, and we actually have an example of that right now, and it has been going on for a few weeks now in Western North Carolina. See:

10,000 Body Bags Were Not Enough – Updates from on the Ground in North Carolina Disaster Relief

I personally know people from this area, and I have heard more than one of them report that during the days following the hurricane and their flooding rains that caused so much death and destruction, that local stores, such as gas stations, were ONLY accepting cash, and even there, only small bills (they would most likely not be able to exchange a 100 dollar bill, for example).

So if they could not even give change for a $100 bill, then they most certainly would not be interested in, or have the ability to, give you change on a 1 ounce gold coin or bar either, since the going rate is now over $2700 for spot price.

And that is assuming that those who are invested in Gold even have physical gold on hand that they can use, as the vast majority of people invested in Gold hold only “electronic gold”, meaning that to access it and retrieve it, they need BOTH electricity, and the Internet.

We know that the number of people purchasing physical gold is drastically increasing, since places like Costco and Walmart can barely keep physical 1 oz. gold bars in stock.

But I can almost guarantee that in a time of national crisis, which many believe could be imminent in this election year, you will not be able to go back to those same retail chains and be able to use your gold bars to be able to purchase anything in their stores (and in fact you cannot even do that right now).

[princess-of-the-corner]

So, in the MLP rewrite AU, how did you explain Sunset managing to get a job and an apartment? How did you address Sunset's lack of legal documentation in the rewrite AU?

Some Magic Bullshit and a good chunk of luck mostly!

Basically everything she had in a Hammerspace spell came through with her as a backpack. Which included a sizable amount of Equestrian currency since Unicorns use the spell as a wallet.

Equestrian currency being a solid gold coin the size of an oreo, and a chunk of large, high-quality, gemstones.

So suffice to say the exchange rate is insane!

Thanks to the gemstones, she wasn't /entirely/ without Magic, just incredibly limited in what she could do. But combine a half-decent forgery of documents with a spell that makes people more trusting of your words, and occasionally a little cash, you can do a surprising amount!

She'd run out of money eventually, but she budgeted so that she'd already be in a position to make more money semi-legally as a grown adult.

[jazzybot4]

"My guy, you are overpaying for your bread." I tell the being in front of me, getting a hissed out sound that could be a laugh, could be a death rattle. There are six sourdough loaves on the counter, unbagged and still a little warm from the oven. It's four-forty-five AM, and sunrise is in thirty minutes. "Unless this is a trick coin that disappears when the sun rises." I muse, looking down at the very suspicious *solid gold* coin sitting on my counter. It's happened before. "I'll go get the scale I guess." I say, resigned, and head back to the office where I keep the box of jewelers-grade tools for this kind of thing. If the coin is real, it certainly is heavy enough to be Significant. It's nearly two ounces of solid gold. "Look." I say, sighing as I look up the days gold prices. "If I take this coin as a solid piece, *and* it's genuine through a year and a day, I'll take the value and set you up a tab so that you don't have to pay every time. Human money isn't worth as much as this any more, and it's not fair to overcharge you for *bread*." I tell it. The coin is worth over five thousand dollars in modern human American currency. That's absolutely going to be a pain to explain to the IRS. A chittering sound like birds in the dark. Agreement, probably. Should be anyhow, my refusal to cheat anyone has been the reason these strange beings show up more and more often. "So I can't make change for this." I tell the being. "I'll add it to the Vault, get it appraised once I've got it authenticated, and in the meantime you can have as much bread as you want." I say, and the bread vanishes into the things robes, to a very loud chirping storm that is silenced when the robes fall back into place. "Pleasure doing business." the being says in a voice that isn't human, is very much *not* human and I don't want to ask further. "We will return. The wild seed rolls are delightful." it says in six different voices, and I grin and nod. "Come back on Thursday." I tell them. "I've been experimenting again, and I think the sunflower and pumpkin seed rolls are ready to go live. We've got the drop scheduled on instagram and tiktok!" I tell them, and they whistle a chirpy tune as they pull a cell phone out of nowhere and scan my code that I had etched into the counter so that I didn't have to make business cards. Even the eldrich have smartphones these days, and it's just easier to have something available that they don't have to touch to get what they want, since some rules still say that they must offer something of equivalent exchange and cannot take gifts. Like a business card. It's not easy running a bakery, and nobody else will work the witching hours, but it's a lot of fun. I'd had no idea that so many *interesting* beings also loved bread as much as I do. I turn from waving to the strange being, and I move to check out my next customer. Who is absolutely not three gnomes in a trench coat. Absolutely not. That would be absurd. They want three sandwiches, three giant cookies, and three coffees. Can't be three gnomes in a trench coat though. The rubies they pay with are very pretty though, and I consider again how hard it would be to find a jeweler who didn't ask questions. A ruby necklace would be a lovely way to turn the gems and gold into cash for the business account. I reload the gnomes tab, and they leave with their sandwiches and coffee and cookies, and I throw in a pack of ginger snap cookies for them to try too, since they always leave me good reviews on the local facebook pages.

You run a Bakery, just a normal bakery, the only problem is that your customers at midnight to 6AM are mythical creatures who pay with gemstones and ancient gold and silver coins

[v-goldhyderabad]

A Smart Guide to Getting Instant Cash for Gold in Hyderabad

In Hyderabad, gold is not just an ornament but a valuable asset that can be converted into instant cash when needed. Whether you're facing a financial emergency, looking to sell old jewelry, or simply want to capitalize on high gold prices, finding top gold buyers in Hyderabad who offer fair prices and transparent transactions is crucial. This guide will help you navigate the process smoothly, ensuring you get the best deal for your gold.

Why Sell Gold in Hyderabad?

Hyderabad has a bustling gold market, making it an excellent place to sell gold for competitive rates. Common reasons people choose to sell their gold include:

Financial emergencies – Quick cash for medical bills, education, or urgent expenses.

High gold prices – Taking advantage of favorable market rates.

Unused or broken jewelry – Turning old or damaged pieces into money.

Upgrading jewelry – Selling outdated designs to fund new purchases.

By dealing with top gold buyers in Hyderabad, you can ensure a secure and profitable transaction.

Understanding Your Gold’s Value

Before selling, it’s essential to know how gold is valued. The price depends on three key factors:

1. Purity (Karat Value)

Gold purity is measured in karats (K):

24K (99.9% pure) – Highest value, usually found in bars and coins.

22K (91.6% pure) – Common in Indian jewelry.

18K (75% pure) – Used in lightweight or designer jewelry.

14K (58.3% pure) – Less common but found in some international pieces.

Reputable buyers use XRF technology or karat meters to assess purity without damaging your jewellery.

2. Weight

Gold is weighed in grams or tolas (1 tola = 11.66 grams). Always verify the weight using a digital scale before selling.

3. Current Market Rate

Gold prices fluctuate daily based on MCX (Multi Commodity Exchange) rates. Check live rates on financial websites or gold buyer platforms before finalizing a deal.

Final Price Formula: (Gold rate per gram × purity %) – deductions (if any)

Where to Sell Gold in Hyderabad?

Not all buyers offer the same level of transparency and convenience. Here’s a comparison of the best options:

1. Reputable Gold Buyers (Best Option)

Trusted gold buyers provide:

Transparent pricing based on live market rates.

Accurate purity testing using XRF or karat meters.

Instant cash or digital payments (UPI, NEFT, IMPS).

Secure documentation (Aadhaar, PAN required).

Why Choose Them?

No hidden charges.

Professional service with secure transactions.

Multiple branches across Hyderabad for convenience.

2. Local Jewellers

While convenient, some jewelers deduct making charges (10-15%) and may not test purity transparently.

3. Banks & Pawnshops

Banks buy only coins/bars and require strict documentation.

Pawnshops offer loans but at lower valuations.

4. Online Gold Buyers

Some platforms offer doorstep evaluation, but always verify credibility before proceeding.

How to Choose the Best Gold Buyer in Hyderabad?

To ensure a fair deal, follow these steps:

1. Research & Compare

Check Google reviews and customer feedback.

Compare offers from multiple buyers.

2. Verify Credentials

Ensure the buyer is BIS-certified and GST-registered.

Look for certifications that guarantee authenticity.

3. Insist on Transparent Testing

Avoid buyers who melt gold before valuation.

Demand XRF or karat meter testing in front of you.

4. Check Payment Options

Prefer instant cash or bank transfer over post-dated cheques.

5. Avoid Common Scams

Underweighting – Always check the scale.

Lowball offers – Compare market rates beforehand.

Steps to Sell Gold for Instant Cash

Evaluate Your Gold – Check purity, weight, and current market rates.

Find a Trusted Buyer – Research and shortlist reputable buyers.

Get a Quote – Visit or contact them for a valuation.

Verify Purity & Weight – Ensure testing is done transparently.

Finalize the Deal – Negotiate if needed and confirm payment method.

Complete Documentation – Provide ID proof (Aadhaar, PAN) for legal compliance.

Receive Payment – Opt for instant cash or digital transfer.

Additional Tips for Getting the Best Price:

Monitor the Market: Stay updated on gold rates. Sell when the market price peaks to get the maximum value. Keep an eye on MCX or global gold trends to time your sales smartly.

Clean Your Jewelry: Dust and dirt can affect the weight and appearance of your gold. Gently clean your items before showing them to a buyer to ensure an accurate valuation.

Avoid Emotional Selling: Don’t rush to sell heirlooms or sentimental pieces. Make a clear decision without emotional pressure and be sure about parting with the gold.

Compare Multiple Offers: Never settle on the first quote. Get evaluations from two or three buyers and go with the best offer that provides transparency and payment security.

Understand Deductions: Some buyers may deduct melting or refining charges. Always ask for a detailed price breakdown before agreeing to the sale.

Document Everything: Request a proper receipt for the transaction that includes the weight, karat, price per gram, total value, and buyer details. It adds to your safety and accountability.

Be Aware of Legal Norms: Transactions above a certain limit require PAN details. Always follow legal procedures to avoid complications.

Use Weighing Scales in Front of You: Ensure that the weighing is done openly, using a calibrated digital scale to prevent any discrepancies.

Avoid Buyers with Complex Payment Terms: Choose those who offer instant settlement through cash or bank transfers. Avoid those who delay payments or issue post-dated cheques.

Tips for Getting the Best Price

Sell during price surges – Monitor gold trends for favorable rates.

Clean your jewelry – Remove dirt to avoid weight discrepancies.

Negotiate wisely – Don’t settle for the first offer; compare quotes.

Avoid emotional sales – Take time to decide if unsure.

Conclusion

Selling gold for instant cash in Hyderabad is a smart financial move if done correctly. By choosing top gold buyers in Hyderabad, verifying purity and weight, and comparing offers, you can maximize your returns. Always prioritize transparency, security, and convenience to ensure a smooth and profitable transaction.

From financial emergencies to making room for new jewelry, converting gold into cash is a convenient way to unlock value from your assets. Hyderabad offers numerous options, but selecting a trustworthy gold buyer is crucial to a successful deal. Follow this guide to make informed decisions, avoid common pitfalls, and walk away with the best possible return on your gold.

Whether you're selling for an emergency or simply liquidating old jewelry, this guide ensures you get the best value for your gold in Hyderabad.

[augmontgold]

What is a Gold Loan and How Does It Work in India?

A gold loan is one of the quickest and most accessible ways to secure instant funds by leveraging your gold assets. Whether you’re managing a personal emergency, covering education expenses, or investing in a business opportunity, a gold loan offers a practical financial solution with minimal documentation and fast disbursal.

What is a Gold Loan?

A gold loan, also known as a loan against gold, is a secured loan where borrowers pledge their gold ornaments or coins to a lender in exchange for money. The loan amount is typically a percentage of the gold’s market value, known as the Loan-to-Value (LTV) ratio, which usually ranges up to 75% in India.

Unlike other loans, there’s no need for a high credit score or lengthy approval processes. You simply submit your gold as collateral and receive funds—often the same day.

Apply for your gold loan online with ease through Augmont’s Gold Loan Portal and enjoy a hassle-free, secure experience.

How Does a Gold Loan Work?

Gold Valuation: The purity and weight of the gold are assessed by the lender.

Loan Offer: Based on the current gold rate, the loan amount is calculated (generally up to 75% of the gold’s value).

Loan Disbursal: Funds are disbursed directly into your account, often within a few hours.

Repayment: You can repay the principal and interest as per the chosen tenure.

Gold Return: Once the loan is repaid, your gold is returned safely and securely.

Why Are Gold Loans Popular in India?

Instant fund availability

Lower interest rates compared to unsecured loans

No income proof or credit score required

Short processing time

Flexible repayment options

If you’re looking to secure instant cash with maximum convenience, a gold loan online is your best bet. Whether you're an entrepreneur or a salaried individual, it's one of the smartest ways to unlock liquidity from your idle gold assets.

[24goldgrouplimited]

Unlocking Value: Where and How to Get the Most for Your Gold in Toronto

In a city as vibrant and diverse as Toronto, finding the best way to turn your gold into cash, or better yet, maximize its value, is more than just walking into the nearest dealer. Whether you're holding onto old jewelry, bullion, or collector coins, there are real strategies and trusted locations that can help you Sell Gold For The Highest Price.

At 24 Gold Group Ltd., we understand the emotional and financial value tied to precious metals. That’s why we provide transparent, top-market evaluations to ensure you’re getting the return you deserve. From casual sellers to seasoned investors, knowing where to go, and what to ask, can make all the difference.

Why Toronto Is a Hotspot for Gold Sellers

Toronto is not only Canada's financial capital but also one of the busiest cities for gold trade in North America. From high-street jewelry buyers to reputable refineries and bullion dealers, the city offers a wide range of options. But not all gold buyers are created equal.

Some dealers operate on high commission margins or use outdated pricing models. Others may not offer the expertise to fairly appraise numismatic or investment-grade coins. That’s why choosing a dealer with both credibility and competitive pricing, like 24 Gold Group Ltd., is crucial if you're serious about getting top dollar for your items.

What Affects Your Gold’s Value?

Before you begin the selling process, it’s important to understand what determines your payout:

Purity: Measured in karats or fineness, the higher the gold content, the more it's worth.

Weight: Typically measured in grams or troy ounces.

Current Spot Price: Gold prices fluctuate daily based on global markets.

Buyer’s Premium/Commission: Some dealers take a larger cut than others.

Form: Bullion bars, coins, or fine jewelry are often valued differently.

At 24 Gold Group Ltd., we provide free, no-obligation appraisals using real-time spot prices, giving you a clear picture of your gold’s true market value.

5 Tips to Sell Gold for the Highest Price in Toronto

Avoid Pawn Shops: While convenient, pawn shops rarely pay close to market value.

Check the Daily Spot Price: Knowing what gold is worth today gives you negotiation power.

Weigh Your Gold at Home: Having a rough estimate helps you compare offers intelligently.

Sell to a Reputable Buyer: Choose a dealer with strong reviews, experience, and fair pricing.

Consider Refining Options: If your gold isn’t in investment form (like broken jewelry), selling through a professional refining company like 24 Gold Group Ltd. may yield a better payout.

How to Choose a Reliable Gold Buyer

When evaluating where to sell gold for the highest price, look for the following:

Live Market Pricing: Does the buyer offer real-time rates or fixed buyback rates?

Transparent Evaluation Process: Can you watch your items being weighed and tested?

No Pressure Tactics: A reputable dealer will never rush or force you into a sale.

Accreditation and Trust: Check for Better Business Bureau ratings, industry memberships, or refining capabilities.

24 Gold Group Ltd. checks all these boxes, with decades of experience in the Toronto gold industry and a reputation built on transparency and trust.

Thinking Beyond Selling: How to Invest in Gold in Canada

Of course, not every visitor to our Toronto location is looking to sell. Many are curious about how to invest in gold in Canada, especially as global inflation, economic uncertainty, and geopolitical tension continue to make headlines.

Gold remains a timeless hedge against volatility, and Canadian investors have several options for entering the precious metals market:

Physical Bullion: Bars and coins from trusted mints like the Royal Canadian Mint.

Gold ETFs: Exchange-traded funds backed by physical gold.

RRSP and TFSA Eligible Gold: Yes, you can hold gold in registered retirement or savings plans!

Digital Gold: For those seeking lower storage or entry barriers.

Gold Mining Stocks: Higher risk, but potentially higher reward.

At 24 Gold Group Ltd., we not only buy gold, we help clients understand the full spectrum of gold investment strategies, whether you're starting with a few coins or building a diversified precious metals portfolio.

Why Choose 24 Gold Group Ltd.?

Located in the heart of Toronto, 24 Gold Group Ltd. is more than a place to sell your jewelry, we're your long-term partner in precious metals. Our services include:

Competitive payouts with no hidden fees

In-house precious metal refining for higher accuracy and value

Expert staff who educate, not pressure

Secure, insured transactions

Assistance with both buying and selling gold and silver

We’ve helped thousands of Canadians unlock the best value from their gold, while also guiding new investors into secure, smart ownership of precious metals.

Final Thoughts

Whether you're cleaning out a jewelry box, converting a coin collection into cash, or looking for guidance on how to invest in gold in Canada, choosing the right partner is everything. Don’t settle for less than your gold is worth, especially in a city with as many options as Toronto.

24 Gold Group Ltd. is here to make sure you walk away with confidence, clarity, and the best possible return. Visit us today or browse our resources online to discover how we can help you make the most of your precious metal assets.

[electrifiedsarcophagusradiance]

Beware of Binary Trading Scams: How to Recover Your Lost Funds! Contact ...

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[naleabhi]

Bitcoin Growth Trends and Global Impact in 2025

Bitcoin 2025: Redesigning the Future of Finance

By 2025, bitcoin is no longer a radical digital novelty. It is now a force that drives the transformation to decentralized finance, transforming the dynamics between people, institutions, and governments as to how they use money. From humble beginnings in 2009 to the trillion-dollar asset it has grown to become, the bitcoin ride is an inspiring tale of how technology can displace rooted systems and enable individuals across the world.

With economic uncertainty hanging over most of the world and trust in central institutions in shambles, bitcoin is a solution of openness, self-regulation, and electronic effectiveness. Investors, technologists, and ordinary people alike are now looking at bitcoin not only as an investment vehicle, but as an instrument of liberation in a more globalized world.

Why Bitcoin Matters More Than Ever in 2025

The worth of bitcoin has expanded much more than its initial purpose as peer-to-peer electronic cash. Now, it is an inflationary hedge, a worldwide store of value, and an expanding payment system that’s being embraced by mainstream business firms. Banks and banking agencies now incorporate bitcoin into mainstream portfolios, and its increasing adoption from banks and regulators is a paradigm shift in the way currencies operate.

In hyperinflationary nations like Venezuela or Zimbabwe, bitcoin is a matter of economic survival. It provides a safe and borderless way to hold wealth, independent of the political risks of fiat. For millions, it’s not speculation — it’s survival.

Bitcoin and the Rise of Institutional Adoption

Previously deemed too risky for serious investors, bitcoin found its way into institutional portfolios and retirement funds. Institutional investment titans now view it as digital gold. Regulator advances in key markets such as the U.S., Europe, and Asia paved the way for bitcoin exchange-traded funds (ETFs) to bring the asset more into the mainstream.

With each halving cycle, the lack of bitcoin becomes more pronounced, becoming more coveted by those looking for long-term deflationary holdings. Giant institutions like Tesla and MicroStrategy remain with massive positions in bitcoin, wagering on its long-term value in the new digital economy.

The Technology Behind Bitcoin’s Strength

Basically, bitcoin operates using blockchain technology — a decentralized, tamper-proof ledger that guarantees all transactions to be transparent and verifiable. This does away with the middleman and diminishes the chances of fraud. Developments such as the Lightning Network have exponentially enhanced bitcoin’s scalability, supporting faster and less expensive transactions that can compete with conventional payment networks.

Whereas fiat money may be printed ad lib, bitcoin’s finite limit of 21 million coins guarantees that it will be rare and more desirable during periods of inflation. This economic and technological framework supports the faith that millions have come to put in the digital currency.

Bitcoin in Global Economies and Emerging Markets

In 2025, institutions and governments are keenly looking for how bitcoin will be a part of the economic order of things. Others, such as El Salvador, have even gone as far as making bitcoin a legal tender, while others are in the process of creating regulatory frameworks for it to be used alongside fiat currencies.

For the developing world’s unbanked, bitcoin opens doors previously shut by traditional banking systems. With an internet connection and a smartphone, people can now enter the global economy, receive cross-border payments, and create financial identities on their own terms.

Bitcoin and Environmental Innovation

Among the most common complaints about bitcoin is how it harms the environment. However, things have been getting better over the last couple of years with new mining methods keeping operations cleaner. More miners are going for renewable energy sources, making their operations not only emit fewer emissions but also improve energy efficiency.

These shifts aren’t public relations gestures in isolation — they’re one aspect of a larger movement within the bitcoin ecosystem to solve problems without giving up decentralization or security. Indeed, this drive for sustainability has driven innovation in energy markets, with bitcoin mining occasionally serving as a buffer for excess renewable energy.

Bitcoin Adoption in Day-to-Day Transactions

What was once a speculative investment, bitcoin is increasingly becoming a useful medium of exchange. From big-box retailers to coffee houses and freelance websites, businesses across the globe are starting to accept bitcoin as payment for goods and services. The creation of crypto wallets and payment processors has made it simpler than ever for consumers to pay with bitcoin without realizing it.

As the user experience improves, so too does public trust. In metropolises such as Miami and Zurich, bitcoin-friendly economies are thriving, demonstrating to the world that decentralized payments are not only possible but profitable and prudent too.

Bitcoin’s Role in the Age of Digital Identity and Web3

As we move into the Web3 era, bitcoin plays a vital part. Beyond just being mere currency, bitcoin is increasingly being utilized in smart contracts, decentralized identity management, and even tokenized assets. Developers are looking into how to grow the Bitcoin network using sidechains and interoperability protocols, adding new functionality with the underlying fundamentals intact.

This growing role places bitcoin in the position of being more than virtual currency — it becomes an entry point for decentralized apps that value user control, anonymity, and security.

What the Future Holds for Bitcoin Beyond 2025

While volatility is still part of the bitcoin world, its ultimate direction is as strong as ever. As every regulatory barrier falls and every technological leap is taken, bitcoin keeps inching further into the very fabric of contemporary finance.

Speculation will always be part of its story, but in 2025, bitcoin is something much more enduring: a vision for economic self-sufficiency and a challenge to the status quo. As a new generation becomes used to living with bitcoin as the status quo, its impact on world systems will only extend further.

Final Thoughts

In 2025, bitcoin is not just a virtual currency — it’s a revolution, a movement, and a template for an open future of finance. You may believe, you may doubt, or still be navigating cyberspace, but one thing’s certain: the era of bitcoin has begun, and here to stay is exactly where we’re going.

Read Also: From Confusion to Clarity: How a Study Abroad Consultant Can Transform Your Journey

[lady-hibiscus]

Djinn doesn't think he's going to make it through the year. Hell, he doesn't even think he'll make it though the day. It's 11am and he's already dealt with two Karens and an old lady that insists in paying for her $21.97 order in cash and coins.

And it doesn't help that his master's human form apparently is considered lower in the social hierarchy, or that the striped pin on its apron draws sneers from the general population.

Djinn sighs as he makes yet another ridiculously complicated drink and tries to pronounce the strange name on the label, only for some giggling adolescent to snatch it away, already taking out her metal rectangle to photograph it numerous times.

When he agreed to this wish of taking a "terrible life", he'd thought of bandits, assassination attempts, even torture! But all he got was a boring 'Starbucks' job, day in, day out. There is no thrill or fear, only tides of unending boredom.

It's starting to remind him too much of home. He mentally curses for calling the lamp-prison home. The rusted gold walls weren't home. Home was a place thousands of years away that didn't exist anymore.

Djinn suddenly realizes the master has been doing this for more than a day, for more than a year, for- he thinks- five...? years. Perhaps six. How?

Humans always fascinated him, though he'd been one... once. Maybe. Djinn can't remember a lot of things. He tries, but it's been hidden from him. What was he doing? Ah, the order. He mechanically prepares the spice-filled drink and haltingly reads the label, this society's strange language slipping off his tongue, falling to the floor.

Two women at the back of the cafe exchange glances, whisper, look at him. At... them? Djinn is wearing his master's skin. Right. He gives the women a half-smile, trying to appear friendly.

"Um," one of them says, approaching the counter. Her tone is suffused with slight amusement. "Do you- what are you?"

A genie, made to grant three wishes of yours! He stops the words before they tumble out automatically. He says his master's name instead. And then: "You can order at the front, over there." He points.

"Like, are you a guy or a girl?" The woman clarifies with that same amusement-grin.

Djinn mentally pulls up the information on the skin he is wearing. It appears to be androgynous. "I'm non-binary."

"Sooo, what's-" The other woman leans closer and whispers. "In your, you know-"

Djinn does not know. "Excuse me?"

"What's in your pants?" The other woman finishes.

Djinn does not taste nearly enough embarrassment in her tone. Again, he wonders how his master dealt with this. He pulls up information on their idiosyncrasies and their society, before carefully responding. "It's none of your business."

The women look disappointed. Djinn tiredly smiles. "But, like, what's actually-" one begins.

Djinn has had enough. He snaps his fingers and teleports the three of them to- well, he didn't specify enough, and they just all fall to the dunes a hundred miles away. The women scramble up, confused, staring at him.

"I said, it's none of your business," Djinn repeats, allowing his devil's teeth to show, his human skin to crumble and melt.

They let out twin screams and run into the unending sand, only to slam into the walls of the cafe as all three are already back in civilization. Djinn smiles cheerily at them again.

The two scramble out of the shop as fast as their legs can carry them.

Djinn isn't supposed to grant a fourth wish, but then and there he decides he'll give his master a little power boost when they get back from vacation.

The genie only has to grant you one more wish before finally gaining his freedom from the lamp. Tired of your everyday life, you wish for the genie to replace you and live your life for a whole year, while you go on vacation. “Oh okay, how bad could that be?”, the genie thought to himself.

[whyyourkochi-basedbusinessis]

Finding the Best Gold Buyers in Bangalore: A Customer’s Guide

Selling gold is a significant decision — whether it’s old jewelry, coins, or broken ornaments, it often holds sentimental or financial value. In a bustling city like Bangalore, with its mix of tradition and modernity, you’ll find countless options for selling gold. But how do you choose the most reliable gold buyers in Bangalore? This guide will help you understand the process, avoid common pitfalls, and get the best value for your precious assets.

Why People Sell Gold in Bangalore

People in Bangalore sell gold for various reasons — to handle financial emergencies, clear debts, invest in other assets, or simply declutter old jewelry. Whatever the reason, the priority remains the same: getting a fair and transparent deal from a trustworthy gold buyer.

Bangalore’s thriving economy and multicultural population make it one of the top cities in India for gold buying and selling. From local jewelry shops in Commercial Street to high-end gold exchanges in Koramangala and Jayanagar, the options are vast.

What to Look for in Gold Buyers in Bangalore

Transparency in Evaluation A genuine gold buyer will evaluate your gold right in front of you. They should use accurate, certified machines like XRF spectrometers to assess the purity without damaging the item. Avoid dealers who take your jewelry to a back room or give vague estimates.

Real-Time Gold Rates Reliable gold buyers in Bangalore offer rates based on the live market price of gold. The best buyers display the current gold rates prominently in their shops or websites. This ensures you receive a fair deal based on up-to-date prices.

Instant Payment Trusted gold buyers will offer instant payment through your preferred method — whether it’s cash, bank transfer, or UPI. You shouldn't have to wait days to receive your money.

No Hidden Deductions Some buyers may impose hidden charges or melt the gold before revealing the value. The best gold buyers provide a clear breakdown of the evaluation and any applicable deductions, if at all.

Proper Documentation A professional gold buyer will give you a receipt or transaction slip outlining the gold's weight, purity, and amount paid. This builds trust and ensures you have a record of the transaction for future reference.

Areas in Bangalore Known for Trusted Gold Buyers

Jayanagar: Known for its established jewelry stores and gold exchanges.

Malleshwaram: A hub for traditional buyers who have been in business for decades.

Koramangala and Indiranagar: More modern setups with professional gold buying firms.

Commercial Street: Offers a mix of traditional shops and newer gold-buying outlets.

Many reputed gold buyers in these areas also have branches across the city, including Whitefield, Marathahalli, and HSR Layout, to serve more customers conveniently.

Benefits of Choosing a Professional Gold Buying Company

Many new-age companies specialize solely in buying gold and offer a more organized, customer-friendly experience. Some even offer home pickup services, allowing you to sell your gold from the comfort of your home. These services are especially helpful for senior citizens or those with mobility issues.

Look for companies that are ISO-certified, have good customer reviews online, and provide a clear privacy policy to ensure your data and transaction are safe.

Final Thoughts

Selling gold in Bangalore doesn’t have to be stressful. By choosing a reputed and transparent buyer, you can get the best value with complete peace of mind. Whether you’re in need of quick cash or just want to part ways with old jewelry, the right gold buyer can make all the difference.

If you’re searching for trustworthy gold buyers in Bangalore, prioritize experience, transparency, and customer reviews. Don’t rush the process — evaluate your options, compare rates, and go with a buyer that values your trust as much as your gold.