PREVIOUSLY ON SPARTACUS: The House of Batiatus has fallen, quite messily in fact. Spartacus and his escaped gladiators have been terrorizing Capua for a few weeks now, and young Seppius, cousin to the late Magistrate Sextus, has sent his mercenaries to hunt them down.
My prediction for this season was that it would open with a slo-mo fight scene and once again, Our Show delivers. Armed men on horses are pursuing a running gladiator down a dirt road at sunrise – who could it be? The double swords make it clear that the runner is our very own Spartacus. Sparty spins around to confront the men as various other gladiator compatriots leap out to join the attack. It’s a bunch of random dudes I’ve never seen before! And Agron! Hi Agron! What happened to your hair?
Total blood-splattery carnage follows, while bored horses mill about in the background, nibbling at the grass. Agron seems to be enjoying himself a bit too much, smashing a mercenary’s face repeatedly against a stela by the side of the road. Before the men depart the battle scene, Spartacus pauses to carve a message into the chest of a corpse, presumably to Glaber.
I LIKE YOU. DO YOU LIKE ME? PICK ONE.
[ ] YES
[ ] NO
[ ] I WILL END YOU AND ALL THAT YOU LOVE
MEANWHILE, off in Rome, Glaber and his ever-faithful soldier beffie Marcus are gossiping about politics like two old biddies in the marketplace. They enjoy some wine in the tablinum of Glaber’s literally Palatial villa and bitch about their inept superiors, saving special scorn for Pompey. Glaber, recently promoted from legatus to Praetor, thinks himself more than ready to take over Pompey’s command in Hispania.
Their plans for further glory are interrupted by the arrival of Ilithyia’s father, Senator Albinius, who clearly still thinks his son-in-law is a bumbling whiskey tango fuckwit. Albinius makes zero attempt to hide his scorn, and he and his crony Varinius – a rival Praetor – openly mock Glaber’s ambitions. Albinius informs Glaber that all of Seppius’ men have lately been slaughtered by Spartacus, and Glaber’s name was found carved into the chest of one of bodies. Glaber seems a bit startled but conceals it fairly well.
Varinius departs to meet up with the utterly horrible Cossutius, leaving a final snark about missing the lovely Ilithyia. Albinius makes it clear that these attentions toward his married daughter would be very welcome indeed. Douchebaggery is afoot!
As soon as they’re alone, Albinius gets down to business – Glaber is commanded by the Consuls to get his ass over to Capua immediately and rid them of this troublesome gladiator once and for all. Glaber thinks this kind of shit is beneath his newfound status, but Daddy-O ain’t having any of it. In Albinius’ opinion, Glaber is responsible for bringing Spartacus to Capua in the first damn place, and his patronage of Batiatus only deepens his involvement in this whole mishegoss. And furthermore, if Varinius sends his own men to support Seppius, and succeeds in defeating Spartacus and his men, then Glaber – and, by association, Albinius – will look weak and foolish.
I can’t much stand Albinius, but you have to admit it – the man’s got logic on his side.
Spartacus and his men and the escaped slaves are hiding out in the rat-filled aqueducts beneath Capua. I mean, I hope it’s the aqueducts and not the sewers, because Mira and some of the other women appear to be washing their clothes in the canal waters. *shudder*
What am I even thinking. Of course it’s the fucking sewers. It’s not like this show is going to sugarcoat anything. POOPWATER IT IS THEN.
Sparty’s announcement of “8 more Romans, sent to the afterlife!” is greeted with cheers from the gladiators, but confusion and disappointment from the women and house slaves. They don’t need more swords, goddammit! They need food and supplies, or money to purchase both. Agron sees to the distribution of the captured swords to the trainee house slaves who have shown the most promise, and that right there? You just know that’s going to end up being A Situation.
Remember season one and how angry Crixus was when Spartacus compared the gladiators to mere slaves? Remember how everyone has always reviled Ashur’s weakness and failure to succeed as a gladiator? Yeah. Somewhere along the line, some gladiator is going to suggest that the weak, untrained house slaves are holding them back, and shit is going to get ugly, especially as two of the rebellion’s leaders are in love with house slaves.
ANYWAY. Aurelia is the one to step forward and quietly take Sparty to task over the lack of food for the rebels. This seems kind of OOC to me, honestly. Last time we saw Aurelia, she hated him more than anything. A few weeks huddled in a sewer isn’t likely to change her feelings toward him. Before they can start arguing further, Rhaskos and the rest of the Gaulish gladiators return from a raid, drunk and carrying food. Crixus has stayed behind in town to look for old leperface Marcellus.
When Spartacus commands the Gauls to share their food amongst the rest of the rebels, Rhaskos tells him to fuck directly off. And here’s the confrontation I expected – another of the Gauls loudly complains about how the house slaves do nothing to earn their keep. Sparty lays down the law, and after some intense eyefucking that moves Agron to fondle his sword hilt ominously, the Gauls accede.
In the quasi-privacy of their romantic sewer chambers, Mira cleans Spartacus’ wound (with poopwater? ARGH.) and bitches about Rhaskos’ dickery. Even though no one will starve today, tomorrow remains uncertain, and Mira suggests that they move from the sewers to the mountains in the east. There, they can hunt for game to feed the rebels, and there will be less chance of being attacked by soldiers. They’re interrupted by the arrival of Crixus, who’s heard all about the confrontation with Rhaskos and the rest of the Gauls. Sparty reassures him that he had no intention of commanding Crixus’ men in his absence; he only did what Crixus himself would have done in the same situation. Crixus’ overdeveloped sense of honor isn’t about to let him argue with that line of reasoning, and he promises to Have Words with his men.
Spartacus is worried that Crixus is taking too many risks – his lingering in town to talk to Marcellus could expose them all. But Crixus isn’t stupid, and besides, Marcellus will never reveal anything to anyone, ever again. Crixus is nothing if not thorough. More importantly, Crixus has finally had news of Naevia – Trebius, a notorious slaver, brokered her sale from the House of Batiatus. Trebius will be in town again shortly to sell some slaves and visit his favourite local brothel, and Crixus plans to confront him there.
Before Crixus leaves to talk with Rhaskos and the rest of the Gauls, Spartacus asks if anyone has seen Doctore. Crixus doesn’t think any of them will ever see him again, as their rebellion has destroyed Doctore’s entire life. Ouch.
That afternoon, Capua’s arena is filled with cheering fans. Two unknown gladiators are fighting a somewhat lackluster battle. And high up in the stands, cloaked dramatically in rags, is Doctore, with the grimmest possible expression of existential darkness on his face. Up in the pulvinus, the new Magistrate berates Mercato over the low quality of the gladiators, but there’s nothing to be done for it. The greatest ludus in Capua lies in bloody ruins, leaving the lesser houses scrambling to fill the gap. The gorgeous younger sister of Seppius, Seppia, is seated next to the Magistrate, and snidely complains that they’re wasting time with foolish games while Spartacus and the rebels remain free. She brushes off his consoling words by informing both him and Mercato of the slaughter of Seppius’ men earlier that day, and they look stunned and unhappy. Seppia’s obnoxiously delighted to be the bearer of bad news, and I love her already. By Jupiter’s cock, she had better have a fuckton of scenes with Ilithyia.
Seppius’ late arrival to the pulvinus is thus underscored by worried interrogations about the deaths of his men, and Seppius shoots his smirking sister a long-suffering look. He’s confident that Spartacus and the rebels will soon be defeated, and their cousin Sextus avenged, but seriously who even cares because oh my god, Our Show appears to be taking the long-awaited plunge into incest. Seppius and Seppia bring new meaning to the term “eyefucking” and look ready to get down like Lannisters right there in the pulvinus. Let us all take a moment to shriek gleefully into our fists, shall we?
Below, the fight reaches a sad climax as the fallen fighter gives the missio, to the boos and hisses of the crowd. In accord with the crowd’s wishes, the Magistrate signals for death, and Doctore departs in disgust. A trio of men seated nearby exchange comically significant looks as he passes. DUN DUN DUUUUUUN.
Doctore glides dramatically through the dark streets of Capua, looking more like a Dementor than an escaped slave. He slips down an alleyway to avoid an oncoming patrol, and finds more trouble instead. It’s the three men from the arena, who have obviously recognized him as Oenomaus of the House of Batiatus. They stupidly try to cut him a deal, offering to forget they ever saw him if he reveals the location of Spartacus and the rebels, as Spartacus has a much higher bounty than Doctore himself. Oh, these poor fools. I almost pity them.
As the men position themselves for attack, Doctore leaps onto the offensive. He’s tossin’, enforcin’, his style is awesome, he’s causing more feuds than Richard Dawson. Survey says: they’re dead. How do people not know that Doctore’s nothing to fuck with? He leaves their bodies in the alley and glides off into the night. LIKE A FUCKING BOSS.
Aurelia is outside the rebel sewer hideout, staring off at the full moon. Spartacus sneaks up to remind her that it’s unsafe to be outside, but Aurelia’s only interested in rambling on sadly about her and Varro’s son, Janus, who has been left with Aurelia’s brother for safekeeping. Sparty shares Mira’s thoughts about moving the rebels to the mountains in the east, where Aurelia can be closer to her son, which isn’t as comforting to her as he’d hoped. Aurelia worries about her status as a fugitive slave, so Sparty hands over all the money he’s taken from fallen enemies in the past few weeks, telling Aurelia to take her son and get as far away as she can. Hugs time!
Back in Rome, Ilithyia’s body slaves are getting her ready for bed. Her plans to attend an upcoming party at Varis’ house are interrupted by Glaber, who brings her the bad news that he’s been commanded by her father to return to Capua and deal with Spartacus – and that she’ll be joining him. Ilithyia’s sure she can charm her father out of this decision, but Glaber is firm in his decision, and promises Ilithyia that they’ll return to Rome in time for her to give birth to their child. Hm.
Let’s all pause again for a moment to count backwards a bit, shall we? Oh yes. Surely this baby is Sparty’s.
Ilithyia is supremely uninterested in going back to Capua, so Glaber lays it out for her plain and simple – the only reason he ever gave his patronage to Batiatus, and by extension, Spartacus, was to conceal Ilithyia’s part in the death of Licinia, cousin to one of the most powerful men in the Republic. Ilithyia’s response? “SHE WAS A FUCKING BITCH!”
Glaber, dude. It is upsetting to me that you don’t pop a boner when your wife acts like a ruthless sociopath. Deeply upsetting.
Back in the Capuan sewers, Agron is arguing with Spartacus about Crixus’ plan to attack the whorehouse in search of Trebius. Agron, you are acting like your dead baby brother. Simmer the fuck down. Spartacus swore to Crixus when Crixus joined the rebellion that he would give all possible aid in the search for Naevia. And if it wasn’t for Crixus rallying the Gauls to Spartacus’ rebellion, they would never have succeeded in the first goddamn place.
When Spartacus tells Agron he’s welcome to stay behind – the words “like a giant diaper baby” go unspoken – Agron is quick to assure Sparty that he’s behind him all the way. Agron’s buddy, Donar, now delivers the Greatest Line Of The Episode – “You had me at ‘whores.'” I like you, new guy.
As they move to join the Gauls for the evening’s raid, Sparty stops to speak with Aurelia. Some of the house slaves are being sent off to the mountains to hunt for game, and they will deliver her to her brother’s house to fetch her son. MOAR HUGS.
And now we arrive at our typical Spartacus Orgy Scene. The whorehouse is in the middle of a profitable evening’s business, with quick shots of twosomes, threesomes, foursomes, bondage, and pegging, to name a few. The brothel’s chubby, drunken proprietor strolls through the rooms with his jug of wine, stopping to enjoy a vigorous wank. But alas, his chubby drunken wanking is interrupted forever when Sparty’s non-euphemistic sword is thrust through his chubby drunken throat. Rampant butchery of the brothel’s patrons follows, although the gladiators do seem to try not to kill any of the slaves. Beheadings, bearmings, and becockings are all over in a couple of seconds, as Crixus hunts through each room for Trebius.
Crixus finally locates Trebius violating a screaming slave girl, and confronts him at swordpoint. Sparty’s arrival immediately behind Crixus gives the girl enough distraction time to stab Trebius through the stomach with a nearby sword. Crixus can do nothing but watch in horror as the only clue to Naevia’s whereabouts lies bleeding out on the brothel floor.
Does it get worse? OF COURSE IT GETS WORSE. Agron runs in to warn Sparty and Crixus of the arrival of the city guards, only to realize that Trebius is the man who sold him and his brother Duro into slavery. Agron is barely held back from kicking Trebius to death, and Sparty drags him off to give Crixus the time he needs to get answers from Trebius.
Crixus spends about 10 seconds trying to question Trebius using actual words before his temper catches up with him. Crixus’ next move is turn to some enhanced interrogation techniques. He slowly starts pulling Trebius’ intestines out of the sword wound, promising a quick death in exchange for information about Naevia. Trebius screams horribly around a mouthful of blood and bile.
…I’m going to go assume that Crixus gets his way.
Back in the sewers, the men clean up and Crixus shares his intel. Naevia has been sent south, passed on from noble to noble as a gift from Batiatus to curry favour in his campaign for aedile. Spartacus, ever the soldier, wants more details – how many villas are there, how many guards at each one, how far apart are they? And how on earth are they supposed to figure out at which one Naevia’s being held? Crixus knows that only a few are owned by the kind of wealthy prominent citizens that Batty would be ass-kissing, and even though Spartacus is still convinced they should proceed slowly and with caution, Crixus knows it’s too late. Why?
Because Glaber and his soldiers will arrive from Rome tomorrow. Ruh roh.
(Can I just say that Manu Bennett has really grown into his role here? He’s giving an awesome portrayal of a wearily wiser Crixus, one who has become both more cautious and more accustomed to leading men by virtue of this wisdom, instead of simply using his size and status as the champion to get his way. I’m really glad they’ve grown his character like this, instead of just using him as the naked eye candy he was for most of the first season. WELL DONE INDEED.)
Glaber and his men ride into Capua at sunrise, with Oenomaus watching from the shadows. They make their way up to Batty’s old villa, which Glaber has decided to use as his base. Mercato is waiting for him there, already worked up into a total panic over the previous evening’s slaughter. Glaber doesn’t want to waste his time talking to Mercato, asking for the Magistrate instead. The Magistrate is unavailable, and Mercato suggests Seppius instead. Glaber can’t be bothered with Seppius either, as he’s a crony of Glaber’s rival, Varinius. He’d prefer to address the city from the marketplace instead. All further discussion on the matter is finished when Ilithyia shows up, because girlfriend is mad as fucking hell.
The filthy bloody mess of the villa is even more noticeable as Ilithyia storms through in her finery. She’s totally outraged that they’ll be forced to stay there, even though Glaber points out the villa’s many strategic advantages. But Glaber wants her by his side, and that appears to be that. He sends her off to see to the cleaning and repair of the main house, and she stomps away in an epic huff.
Ilithyia angrily commands her personal slaves to get busy throwing everything in the house off the side of the cliff, and they run off to do her bidding. Her pity party is well underway when she notices a mask amid the wreckage of the room – the same mask that Spartacus wore the night he fucked her, him thinking she was Licinia and her thinking he was Crixus. Ilithyia flashes back to both the wild murderytimes with Licinia and the wild sexytimes with Sparty, dwelling rather a bit more on the latter, as would all right-thinking people.
And then, behind her in the shadows, something appears that makes Ilithyia scream with absolute and unfeigned terror.
Glaber and his men rush through the villa, and find Ilithyia huddled in the corner of the bedroom, shivering with fear. Whatever scared her so badly is nowhere in sight, and Glaber coldly asks her if she’s lost her fucking mind. Ilithyia can only point into the shadows.
It’s Lucretia. A filthy, wild-haired, and totally fucking insane Lucretia, who gently chides them for not sending word they were coming, so she could prepare a feast. Glaber recognizes her as Lucretia, and Ilithyia is very slightly relieved that she’s not the only one who can see what she assumed was a horrible ghost. Lucretia, lost in her crazytimes, calls for Naevia to bring wine, and seems confused that no one answers. Ilithyia screams for Glaber to “kill it!”, but Marcus intervenes to point out that Lucretia’s survival will be seen by the Capuans as a blessing from the gods, and will help win them over.
(Goddamn, but Lucy Lawless is fantastic. She is, and I mean this in the best possible way, a very convincing maniac. Correctly playing the part of a genteel noblewoman was absolutely central to Lucretia’s sense of self-worth as a young woman marrying far above her station, so it makes perfect sense that Crazy!Lucretia would still hold on to these social graces even in the depths of her madness. I SALUTE YOU MADAM.)
Despite Ilithyia’s terror, Marcus convinces Glaber to use Lucretia to their advantage, and Glaber tells Ilithyia to have her slaves tend to Lucretia’s needs. He also expects that Ilithyia will be able to find out just what Lucretia remembers that might be used against them.
The mood in the sewers is tense and frightened. The house slaves are terrified by the news of Glaber’s impending arrival with Roman soldiers, and angry and resentful that they were dragged into the rebellion somewhat against their will. Agron’s ready to kick ass and take names, as are plenty of the other gladiators, but Spartacus is determined to unite them all. He’s in the middle of giving them a stirring moto speech about togetherness when an old friend turns up at last – Oenomaus. He stalks in wearing his Dementor robes and calmly tells them what he’s seen – Glaber and his men are already in Capua. Oenomaus ignores Spartacus’ plea for him to join the rebellion, telling them instead of Glaber’s plan to address the citizens in the marketplace the next morning.
As he leaves, Crixus calls after him, asking where he intends to go if he doesn’t stay and fight with them. Oenomaus responds by saying there’s only one place for “an animal without honor” to go. Presumably he means The Pits? Hm.
The house slaves are running around panicking and crying, and Crixus once again tries to convince Sparty to join him in the south. He’s wasting his breath on Spartacus, though – Sparty can’t see beyond his desire for revenge against Glaber for Sura’s death and his own slavery. Le sigh. Crixus plans to leave with his men at dawn, with or without Spartacus.
Up in the villa, Lucretia is being bathed by Ilithyia’s body slaves. Lucretia is totally confused, wondering how they can afford such luxuries during the drought. Ilithyia reminds her that the drought was a long time ago, but Lucretia just looks even more muddled by this information. As Lucretia rises from the bath to dry off and dress, Ilithyia is gobsmacked by the wound on Lucretia’s stomach – where Crixus stabbed her at the end of season one. Lucretia can’t seem to recall anything about it when questioned, and Ilithyia sends the slaves away to get her interrogation gloves on.
Ilithyia reminds Lucretia of the gladiator’s slaughter, wondering how she could have survived the attack, but Lucretia just stares off into space, smiling gently. Lucretia remembers one thing, though – she remembers Ilithyia’s friendship. Ilithyia runs with it, reminding Lucretia of her many other friends: Aemilia; Caecilia; and Licinia. For a tense moment, it seems that Lucretia does in fact recall something about Licinia, but it’s only that she’s the cousin of the famed Marcus Crassus. Lucretia begs Ilithyia to make an introduction, and Ilithyia can’t help but laugh with relief. It seems her secret will be safe. (Oh come on. OF COURSE LUCRETIA WILL REMEMBER. And at the worst possible time. I AM EXCITE.)
Lucretia gathers up enough of her sanity to make one important observation, however – she notices that Ilithyia is pregnant, and is sincerely happy for her friend. She seems almost like her old self for a moment as she muses that she and Batty had been trying for so long to have kids of their own.
The old Lucretia, however, would immediately suspect what we all suspect by now – this baby is Sparty’s, not Glaber’s. Part of me really hopes that Lucretia’s crazytimes is all part of a cunning scheme to exact revenge upon her many enemies, not even gonna lie.
Spartacus and Mira are relaxing postcoitally in their romantic sewer getaway and discussing recent events and their plans for the future. Mira asks Sparty if he suspected all along that Rome would send Glaber, and if that’s why he’s refused to leave Capua for a safer hideout, and Sparty admits that he’d been praying for it to be so. She begs him to reconsider his vengeance against Glaber and to follow Crixus to the south, and he appears to concede the point.
The next morning, the gladiators and house slaves all prepare to head south to relative safety. Crixus holds them back just long enough to find out what Spartacus intends to do, and Mira relays the previous night’s conversation where Spartacus seemed to agree to join them. Unfortunately, this morning, Spartacus is nowhere to be seen.
Instead, Sparty’s off in the marketplace, cloaked and hooded and waiting for Glaber’s announcement. How he intends to kill the man when he’s surrounded by armed guards is a fucking mystery. SPARTACUS YOU ARE BEING AN IDIOT.
Glaber hasn’t arrived yet, and the crowd is angrily heckling the Magistrate’s attempts at calming their fears. Hotass young Seppius steps up to the plate and is somewhat better received. He cleverly reminds them that his cousin Sextus, their beloved former magistrate, died at Spartacus’ hands, and just like that, he’s won their favour.
All further speechifying from Seppius is ended when Glaber shows up with both a cohort of men and his secret weapon – Lucretia, cleaned up and dressed once again as a woman of high status. Marcus has totally judged the crowd correctly – they’re ecstatic that Lucretia survived the attack, and are eager to transfer their affections from Seppius to Glaber. Lucretia is managing to hold it together fairly well until she sees Spartacus skulking through the crowd. She whimpers helplessly to Ilithyia, who dismisses it as more crazyface rambling.
Glaber has one further trick up his sleeve, and yeah, I pretty much expected this from the start. He’s captured Aurelia and killed off the rest of the men Spartacus sent with her. Aurelia’s beat all to hell, bloody and chained and very clearly near death. FUGITIVUS has been carved into her forehead. Oh god.
Glaber announces his plan to torture Aurelia until she reveals the location of the rebel hideout, and that’s all it takes for Spartacus to make his move. Glaber whips the crowd into a frenzy of cheering his name – Seppius rolling his eyes all the while – and Ilithyia and Lucretia hurry away from the excited crowd. As they’re leaving, Lucretia once again spots Spartacus in the crowd, except this time Ilithyia sees him as well. Sparty throws himself at Glaber as Ilithyia leads the crowd in a whole lot of panicked screaming.
Sparty fights Glaber and a half dozen of his men while the rest of the soldiers push the frightened Capuans out of the marketplace. Things appear to be going spectacularly wrong for Spartacus until Crixus and the gladiators turn up. From then on, it’s all chaos and swords and blood. Lots and lots of blood.
The gladiators cut down the soldiers with relative ease, and Spartacus sends Agron to carry Aurelia off to safety. Crixus pauses in the middle of his fight when his eyes meet Lucretia’s across the marketplace, and it’s seriously a toss-up as to which one of them is more horrified. Lucretia suddenly remembers him stabbing her in the stomach the last time they met, and she melts away into the shadows, clutching her belly. Crixus, faced with the choice between chasing after her or dragging Spartacus away from a fight they’re clearly not going to all survive, grabs Sparty and flees.
Back at the sewer hideout, Mira lays into Spartacus for being hotheadedly fuckwitted enough to go after Glaber alone, wondering if he cares about anyone except himself. Sparty protests that he cares enough to have gone alone and not risked anyone else, which is an argument both stupid and logical. Crixus barges into their spat, not to split it up, but to sock Sparty in the face for his stupidity. And finally it’s time for them to have it out – Spartacus is pissed that Crixus would stand between himself and vengeance on Glaber, but Crixus is pissed that Sparty would stand between himself and his love for Naevia. Sparty still honors his love for Sura enough for that to shut him up.
Crixus further argues that if they HAD killed Glaber, a Praetor of Rome, the Senate wouldn’t just send another company of soldiers – they’d send full legions to slaughter them all.
What is this madness, you guys? CRIXUS IS USING LOGIC AND REASON! Day is night, night is day! Dogs and cats living together! I CANNOT CONTAIN ALL THESE FEELS.
Agron sidles in quietly to tell Sparty that Aurelia, on her deathbed, is asking for him, and he hurries to her side. She looks like fucking hell, and Sparty manfully holds back his tears. Aurelia begs him to make her a promise, and he readily agrees. But.
She makes him swear to stay away from her son, so that he too doesn’t get killed because of Spartacus. Aurelia then dies horribly, choking on her own blood.
Agron is furious and ready to ride off to war, but Spartacus has finally, FINALLY, seen reason. He stops Agron from gathering swords and men and tells them all that he’s decided they’ll join Crixus in the search for Naevia. Agron doesn’t want to abandon the plans for vengeance, but Sparty’s clearly been watching reruns of Lost – he knows if they don’t live together, they’re going to die alone. (WE HAVE TO GO BACK! brb weeping.)
Spartacus hasn’t totally abandoned the rebellion, though. As they move south, he promises to increase their rebel army by freeing every slave they meet, until they’re strong enough to return and fight Glaber for realsies. WOO HOO.
NEXT WEEK: Flashback time! It’s young Oenomaus and young Titus Batiatus, meeting for the first time! And Sparty and the rebels have seized their first southern villa.
(On a more personal note: yeah, I srsly fucking miss Andy Whitfield as Spartacus, ngl. It was a little jarring at first to see Liam McIntyre Spartying about with all the old familiar faces, but you know what? He’s doing an awesome fucking job so far, and I’d much rather have New Sparty than No Sparty. That is all.)