Ah, here we go. Is it just me, or are the last two battles longer than the first four?

264 B.C. -Rome Really Hated That Guy- 241 B.C.

255 B.C. – Battle of Tunis

Rome eventually made it to Africa, and things had been going very well for a while. Poeni even sued for peace! Well, at least he had… Thinking back on it, maybe making all those demands hadn't been such a good idea…

Carthage had sat down heavily, leaning his head back and rubbing at his temples to try to stave a migraine away. He was tired of this, done with this. All this trouble over an island! "I can't believe you beat my legions…" Rome had snuck his forces around and pinched them in the dark while they were sleeping. His legions! On his own land! "Whowas the one ranting on about sportsmanship, at the start of all this?"

Rome shrugged. "Hey, you showed me the dance. I just learned all the steps, Poeni~."

"Puny?" Carthage tilted his head back down to glare at the tan Republic. "Did you just call me Puny? 'Cause I know you didn't call me a Punic."

"Huh?" Rome furrowed his brow, confused. "No, I just said Poe-"

"My rule," He started in, placing his arms imperiously on the arms of the chair, rising out of his seat, "extends from Northern Egypt along the entire North African coast, and halfway through Iberia—and you, you unwashed insect, dare to call me Puny!"

Rome, who just noticed he was only eye-level with Carthage when the African was sitting, pouted in indignation. "You smell funny."

But Carthage wasn't done yet. "I had over five hundred ships in my fleet. I have over fifteen thousand men and-"

"-And that sounds like someone trying to compensate for something~." Rome ended on a high note.

The Punic scoffed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "Talk about a person with delusions of grandeur. You're a peninsula!You can't even shave yet!" He jabbed Rome's chest, emphasizing his point.

"So?" Rome waved his finger away.

"Don't 'so' me! And you think I'm compensating for something." He probably hadn't even dropped yet, the brat! Not that Carthage was going to check anytime soon.

"You really like rhetorical questions, don't you?" The Punic huffed and sat back in his chair, glaring daggers at his opponent. "Anyways, back to business." Rome smiled and unrolled the piece of parchment that Senate had given him, for this very occasion. "My Terms of Surrender are that you cede Sicily," Carthage had expected that, "Corsica, and Sardinia to me-"

"What?" The tall, dark Empire surged to his feet. "You haven't even fought for those islands! What cla-"

"I'm letting you keep your African territories, aren't I?" Rome looked over at the furious Phoenician, whining out, "Let me finish~!" before he could start raging again. Poeni grumbled something in his own tongue, probably cursing him to the depths of the Underworld, so he continued, "You're also to pay an indemnity, renounce you navy, and become my vassal!"

Carthage gaped slightly, shaking his head at the Roman in wonder. "…Fuck you."

And that was how they ended up back here, outside of Tunis, facing a wide open plain filled with huge, lumbering, rubbery things and a good deal of cavalry. Rome scrunched up his nose when the wind brought over their stench. "What were these beasts called again, Regulus?"

"I believe their called 'elephants', Rome."

"Wrinkly old creatures, aren't they?" he shuddered. Typical barbarians, using vile things like 'elephants.' "Reminds me of the old hags of Fate."

Commander Regulus scowled, looking over the force Carthage had called to his aid and not liking what he saw. "Do we really have to fight them?"

"You're the one who pushed for battle now," instead of waiting for reinforcements like I asked. Regulus was a good man; courageous and brave, but impatient, and not to mention that jealous streak! Great honor waited for the one who won this war, and Regulus knew his term was ending, that he was going to be replaced soon, so he rushed things. Rome sighed to himself, setting a jovial grin. "Well, here goes nothing."

The war elephants led the charge, tying up the main force of Roman infantry, and the cavalry fell to pikemen. Rome went right past them, taking two thousand of his troops, beating the snot out of some mercenaries, and chasing them back to their camp. He didn't have to look back to know how badly the battle was going. Elephants trumpeted, smashing any soldiers who got between their feet and the ground. They were going to lose. Rome led the men up the cliff face, and once they were sufficiently out of the way, he grimaced and stared up at the sky. "Mars? …Mars~! I know you're up there, father." There was silence and the other Roman's muttered to each other, wondering if he was as crazy as he looked. Rome puffed his cheeks out and started bellowing, "Get down here! I need to ta-"

"There's no need to shout!" Rome spun around to face the great God of War. He stood a good head taller than his oldest men, decked out in full legion armor. The shade cast by his helmet couldn't conceal the glowing red of his eyes. "What do you want this time, brat?"

Rome smile plastered itself all over his face. "Come over here! There's something I want you to see." He waved the God Mars over to the cliff edge, waiting for him to approach before gesturing to the chaos below. "What do you see?"

"You getting your ass kicked," Mars barked. Indeed. Carthage charged with his cavalry, cutting down the remaining infantry as he searched the throng for Rome. After the last man had been dispatched, Commander Regulus was brought to the Punic's feet.

"That's the problem!" Rome whirled on the God, face flushing a dusty red. "I offered sacrifices, sic? You said you'd favor me in the war-!"

"In Sicily," Mars amended, "You said nothin' about Africa, mate, and I was nice about that battle in Adys." Rome opened his mouth to say something 'smart'. Mars's eyes glowed dangerously, "Don't you get saucy with me, parus puerus! Was your own fault, bein' such an ass."

Rome 'humphed' and crossed his arms over his chest, racking his brain for something. There was always something. "…What do you want?" Mars raised a brow at him, "You're a God!" Rome threw out his arm for emphasis, nearly smacking the god's forehead,"You're always wanting something, or someone, so what is it?"

Mars looked out at the battle, mulling over the offer. "…You know that altar where you made the sacrifices?" Rome nodded, "Don't you think it's looking rather… I don't know, shabby?" Rome balked, but the God continued, oblivious, "I mean it's all dark, and damp, and all that grim-"

"What's a couple of blood stains to a God of War?" he asked incredulously.

"A couple every now and then is fine, but that altars starting to look like a hundred year old barbeque grill!" Mars shuddered.

The boy Republic blinked. "What's a 'barbeque grill'?"

"I'll tell you when you're older, son." Mars matched the Latin pre-teen's glare. "Now did you call me down here to fight, or were you trying to gain my favor ad nauseam?"

"But the God of War-!"

"Doesn't mean I can't have taste!"

"What are you, the God of War or an interior decorator?" Maybe it was just the fact that the God of War and Destruction was around making him feel this way, but Rome ranted on, "Do you want some pink curtains to go with it? How 'bout a nice bottle of potpourri?" Mars fumed, smoke rising from his tresses, and Rome relented, "Okay, okay, fine. You get your pink curtains. Just… Help me out a little; throw me a bone, 'kay?" Rome offered his hand, reluctantly.

And Mars took it. "Senate's sending a rescue party as we speak. Get over to the docks."

241 B.C. – Battle of the Aegates Islands

Rome sighed, leaning against the starboard railing as he glared at his reflection in the choppy waters. "Okay," he muttered, "so I've been a bit of a show off lately, I know... But that doesn't mean you have to keep sinking my ships! I mean, come on!" Rome scowled, 'cause of course manly men don't pout. "Twice now I've had to rebuild my fleet. Why do you favor that Punic so much?"

His stoic expression raised a brow at him, "I would have thought that obvious." Rome just stuck his lip out further and the reflection ran a hand through what should have been chestnut hair. "Carthage comes from the Phoenician line. They're a seafaring people. They have sailed my seas for eons."

"So?" The boy-Republic plunked a stone at him.

A ripple distorted the image, and soon the water bubbled and broiled as a mass of sea foam rose from the water. "You hire the Greeks to sail your ships!" it seethed. "You should be embarrassed, calling upon me!" The man now staring down at little Roma hardly resembled his reflection. Long white hair stuck fast to rippling muscles, dotted with scales where man became fish.

"But I've built temples for you! My people have honored you for years!"

"Yes, I know," the fish-man gravely admitted, "But what have you done for me lately?" Oh boy, here it comes. "I see Mars got his altar upgraded." I knew it. Rome rolled his eyes. They both crossed their arms, each giving the other defiant glares. "You've always favored Mars, Rome. Why should I favor you?"

"What do you want?"

"A new temple."

"I don't have the funds!" Rome exclaimed. "I've spent my whole treasury funding this war, and rebuilding the ships you sank! I only have this fleet now, thanks to my nobles' donations!" Neptune's expression remained detached, but the water continued to bubble and boil. "Alright, alright!" Rome flailed his arms and the water calmed. "Look, Neptune, I'll upgrade your temples- all of them. I'll throw in a new temple to boot, once I get the treasury back in order. You're gonna be seeing me on the seas a lot more in the future, but you gotta lay off and give me the chance to do that! Alright?"

They stood there in silence as Neptune… evaluated him. He could've sworn he saw ol' fishy-face smirk. "Fine. I'll be holding you to your word, parus puerus." Pompous ass. He left as he came, features distorting as the fountain of water fell back into the sea.

Well, now that that deal was struck, Rome smirked to himself and turned his gaze shoreward. The great port-cities of Lilybaeum and Drepana… Marvelous little Punic creations seated on a throne of trade goods, and vital life-line for the Carthage Campaign. He would take them soon, just like with Agrigentum, and from there he could launch a third African expedition…

"Are they still out there, DuctorCatulus?" Wait... They?

The Commander stood on the starboard side with a little Greek sailor, shielding his eyes from the sun to squint over the horizon. "Seems like it," the man licked his chapped lips."They've been out there for over an hour, just sitting there."

"Who is?" Rome called, jogging over to them. The sailor gave Rome a dubious look, like he carried the Plague or something… Well, there was that whole 'southern colony' thing, but you'd think they'd get over it.

"The Punics."

Rome blinked at him. "Pheoni?" He nodded. "Well what the Styx are we waiting for?" He blurted out, not caring that he was "officially" lower in rank than the Commander. "Neptune's with us now! Can't you feel the wind? See the tide?"

Commander Catulus furrowed his brow at him, but stopped to lick his finger and check the wind. Indeed, the wind pulled at their sails, urging them away from the blockade and toward what looked to be a promising battle. The enemy was merely a smudge on the horizon now, but with winds like these they could swoop down on them like hawks. The Commander nodded solemnly at the Grecian, and the runner went to spread the message to the other ships. They were going to take their revenge.

Day faded to night, and by morning the tides had changed- damn it Jupiter! Probably pissed he didn't get the same offer, that malus fatus!

Catulus strode the foredeck, waving his arms around, gesticulating, pointing, shouting orders. He had the sails furled in, and when that wasn't enough he cut the masts. The corvi were even dismantled and tossed over the side along with boxes of food and barrels of wine. With nothing but the bare necessities and a battle hardened crew rowing in the galley, the Romans charged against the wind and into battle.

The Carthaginians didn't know what, exactly, to make of this. Most of them were young, green-horns, having been schooled in all anti-Roman tactics and utterly baffled by the loss of the corvi. They couldn't out-maneuver Rome's ships, as they dropped anchor to make sharp turns and rammed their bow into the enemy vessels. And after that, it didn't take long for the soldiers to over-run the ships.

Rome and Catulus were busy regrouping when Jupiter apparently didn't like what he saw and reversed the winds, allowing what was left of the Carthaginian fleet to escape.

Without the resources to build another fleet or to reinforce its land troops, Carthage admitted defeat and signed a peace treaty with Rome, bringing the First Punic War to an end.

Notes:

Mars was regarded as the father of the Roman people because he was the father of Romulus, the legendary founder of Rome.

Ignavus – coward

parus puerus – little boy

Ad nauseam – an argument which has continued to the point of nausea.

malus fatus – bad/worthless jerk