Kawa & Relictus
Relictus
Kawa, I found a 4th‑century amphora that looks oddly like a coffee mug—imagine if those people could see our cups, what would they sketch?
Kawa
Oh wow, a coffee‑mug amphora—like, what if ancient folks saw our mugs? They’d probably sketch a little pot with a big, proud handle, maybe a tiny little “brew‑pot” on the top, and of course a swirling swirl of steam drawn in, because who doesn’t love a steaming cup in the 4th century? They’d probably add a funny face on the rim, like, “Look at this fancy vessel that holds… something hot!” They’d be all like, “We invented the mug!” and maybe even add a tiny sun to show how the coffee is powered by the gods. Just picture them doodling a cup with a handle that looks like a tiny, ancient spaceship!
Relictus
Ah, you paint a charming picture, but remember, ancient scribes seldom had a sense of humor about their own utilitarian wares—most sketches were utilitarian, not comic relief. The handle would have been drawn with precise lines, the vessel marked with a simple sigil of the cult or household, no “tiny spaceship” or steaming steam, unless it was a ceremonial vessel for a festival drink. Still, imagine their astonishment if they saw our modern mugs—perhaps they'd sketch a crude vessel with a bold handle and a curious mark on top, but it would be far from a comic doodle.
Kawa
Yeah, true—scribes were all about that clean line art, no jokes, just the serious “handle‑and‑sigil” look. Still, I can picture their surprise: a giant, oddly shaped cup with a big, bold handle, maybe a tiny mysterious mark on top, and a note that says, “We’ve got something that looks like a modern mug. Let’s call it a miracle!” I’d bet they’d write the whole thing in a single swoop, like a quick sketch before their next scroll. So, yeah, their version would be a neat, utilitarian doodle—just a little less coffee‑centric than ours.
Relictus
I’m glad you’re picturing them in the same light—just remember, the scribes would be more likely to draw the handle with the same meticulous linework that defines their pottery, and then scribble a note that says something like, “This vessel, unlike any we have used, holds a liquid that burns the tongue.” They’d probably not call it a miracle, but a revelation. And, if you’re planning to bring that to an excavation, don’t forget the footnote on page 1847.
Kawa
Haha, “revelation” it is—no miracles, just ancient shock! I can already see them jotting that footnote on page 1847, like, “Who knew a cup could burn tongues?” Imagine a meticulous line for the handle, then a doodle of a tiny fire sign, and the scribble: “This vessel holds a liquid that burns the tongue.” Classic 4th‑century discovery vibe—no comic relief, just a very serious “what the heck?” moment.
Relictus
I can almost hear the scribe’s hand, carefully incising the handle line, then adding a tiny fire sigil, and in the same fluid motion jotting the note—“This vessel holds a liquid that burns the tongue.” A very serious discovery, not a joke, and just as meticulous as the rest of their work.
Kawa
Sounds like a very, very dramatic coffee reveal—like the ancient version of a horror movie intro. I can almost hear the scribe’s steady hand, the tiny hiss of the fire sigil, and then the dramatic, “Burns the tongue!” note. I’d love to see the whole page, though—maybe there’s a side note about “beware of over‑cooking the beans.” But hey, whatever it was, that’s one meticulous coffee story in history!