Lucius Cassius Longinus

Senatore

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Sara

About Lucius Cassius Longinus

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Michiel Huisman
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Rome

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Michiel Huisman
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Started by Titus Sulpicius Rufus · October 10

6th of October, 75 AD
Given the tragedy brought on by the earthquake only a few months earlier, Titus didn't quite feel right celebrating his birthday with huge festivities or partying from dusk to dawn - besides, this was no milestone year, just the passage of time signalling that he had officially grown older. The previous day - the actual day of - had been spent with family, featuring a relaxed and pleasurable evening with far too much food including Betua's mouthwateringly good placenta cake, and only a tiny hiccough when Valeriana loudly and vehemently expressed how unfair it was that she received no gifts, skilfully ignoring the fact that it wasn't her birthday for that to happen.
Tonight's celebration was simple as well, though less child-friendly. Going out for drinks with friends was also very agreeable, even more so when they had a decent-sized chamber and an own dedicated servant all to themselves. Drinking alone was no fun, though, even when it was Falernian and Caecuban, and Titus busied himself with deciphering the multitude of humorous scrawls on the walls and snacking on bread and olives before the others arrived - his stomach would thank him later.
@Echo @Sara @Sharpie
Feel free to ignore posting order!
A Morning Visitation

Started by Lucius Cassius Longinus · October 4

Late July, 75AD
Longinus stifled a yawn behind his palm, and tried to ignore the disparaging look the slave waiting with him, shot in his direction. He hadn't spoken to Claudia Corinthia much besides passing pleasantries before her retreat to Greece, and the infamous Imperial Banquet - the memory of which still brought a smile to his lips. Poor Lucius. Yet, even if they weren't friends (barely acquaintances really), it was good to be polite and he had so few connections in Greece that it would appear odd if he didn't reach out to them whilst he was here on his 'holiday'. Besides, he was hoping the news of his failed engagement hadn't reached these corners of the Empire, and he could have a conversation on something other than his miserable love life, and he had an invitation to extend to the small soiree he was due to host.
He'd dressed for the occasion - in respect of her rank and standing - in a light blue tunic with a darker blue pallium. He'd even shaved for the occasion! Although his hair was probably still too long to be considered proper and every so often he had to run his hand through it to push it out of his forehead. The finery he had arrayed himself in and the grandeur of the villa made him feel...oddly constricted, and he couldn't help fidgeting. The slave shot him another withering look and Longinus arched a brow, which quietened him down and the man reverted his eyes to the floor. He might serve his mistress, but Longinus was still a patrician and a decorated legate at that.
He was a man, however, with boundless energy and waiting and waiting and waiting to be admitted was beginning to grate on him. When a flurry of activity at the other end of the atrium signalled something was happening, he felt himself relax, and a broad, buoyant grin spread on his face. The lady approached and he inclined his head in respect. "Claudia," His grin filled out, "A pleasure as always - thank you for seeing me, I was going slightly out of my mind in boredom with so few friends in Greece!"

TAG: @Gothic
Party People

Started by Lucius Cassius Longinus · September 19

Late August, 75AD
Longinus was mulling. He didn't like these sort of parties at the best of times, but certainly not since his return from Greece where the news of his failed engagement was less fresh than before, but still simmered beneath the surface. He saw the pitying looks from friends, the preying glances from unmarried girls and the scornful look of the married matrons that milled through the party. So he'd retreated, as he often did in these instances, outside. It allowed him the fresh air he needed on these hot summer evenings, and a chance to stretch his legs. It also gave him space from the other party goers. Bliss.
The sound of music and chatter and laughter filtered from the triclinium through into the garden and he sat on the bench, kicking stones with his sandalled feet. He'd made the effort tonight at least, given he knew Titus and or Aulus would comment if he didn't. Fairly clean shaven (with his perennial stubble not budging...), and cut hair at least. He'd dressed in one of his more formal blue tunic and pallium, but despite dressing the part, he didn't feel ay real mood to party. He continued to kick rocks as the laughter intensified and a couple came into the garden to join him, taking a seat on another bench with giggles - utterly unaware, or uncaring, that he was sat only a few feet away.
Another figure drew out into the garden and he glanced up, hoping it was one of his friends and not another stranger. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, but he tried to effect a polite smile on his face.

TAG: @Echo
On Tour

Started by Lucius Cassius Longinus · September 19

Mid July, 75AD, Port of Piraeus
Longinus disembarked the boat with a grumble. The crossing hadn't been bad but it had been irritatingly long. He hadn't been to Greece since he was a boy, and the ten day journey - down the coast of Italia and then through the mare nostrum into Greece had been mind-numbing. For a man that had too much energy at the best of times, being contained to a small boat was torturous. At least he didn't suffer from the sea sickness as Titus did. Small mercies.
Now they were in Greece, it...was not what he had imagined. Where were all the grand buildings and beauty that the writers wrote about? All he saw was a fleet of ships, warehouses and the pungent smell of fishing vessels that turned his stomach. He glanced at Attis, displeasure in his eyes. "This is a shithole. If it wasn't another ten days to get back, I'd suggest we get back on the boat." His mood had barely lifted in the few weeks he had been back from Formiae in Rome, and whilst he was no longer cocooned in the depression he had been, that depression had been replaced by bouts of anger and snappiness. Poor Attis.
This trip to Greece had supposed to be with his wife, before their child was born. Instead, it was with his faithful body slave. He liked Attis, a tremendous amount, but it wasn't comparable. His mother had nonetheless urged him to still go, suggesting that the fresh air and change of scenery would lift his spirits (and keep him out of her, and Cassia's hair). He looked around at the slaves unloading baggage and then back to Attis. "How far to Athens?" They'd need to get horses, and then find somewhere to stay. In typical Longinus fashion, he hadn't even considered renting a house, musing that he'd strike lucky once he was here. But if this was all that Greece had to offer, then perhaps he was mistaken.

TAG: @Sharpie
Coming home

Started by Liv · June 7

Formiae, late June 75 AD
After close to three days on horseback, Titus would have been lying if he said he didn't fancy a nice long walk to stretch his legs, and maybe even a massage. Attis had kept pace surprisingly well and without much complaining, or perhaps he had complained but Titus was riding too far ahead to hear it. His shoddy hearing helped with that, too - blessings in disguise, such were the gods' mysterious ways.
The villa in Formiae was very nicely kept, and not a thing seemed to be out of its proper place - testament that the master did not live there full time, as its current state would have been impossible to maintain had that been the case. The slaves, on the other hand, seemed displeased that yet more visitors had come to disturb their existence with even more needs to be attended to.
Ignoring the doorkeeper's repeated excuses that his dominus was unavailable, Titus gave the man a look that could have made a legionary wet himself and brushed him aside to walk past, not bothering to wait for his friend's body slave to explain the situation to the doorkeeper. Attis could stay behind and elucidate the other slave or he could follow and help find his master quicker.
"Longinus!" he called out as he made his way to the atrium, ignoring the scandalised glances some slaves shot him. Good thing most villas had a very similar layout. "I'm here to return Attis to you, I can't stand him anymore!" And find out what in Jupiter's name has got into you.
@Sharpie @Sara
End of a Chapter

Started by Sara · June 6

10th June, 75AD
TW: miscarriage
Longinus sat in silence on the beach, down the cliffside path from his villa just outside of Formiae. It was deserted, even at this time of year by virtue of the setting sun which cast long shadows over the sand and reflected off the water. The villa itself was no more populated with a skeleton staff of people he had forgot he even employed; a girl to cook in the kitchen and a few odd-job slaves that crept around him with thinly veiled annoyance in their eyes that their dominus was suddenly intruding on the peace and serenity of having run of a patrician's villa without oversight. He'd left everybody else behind in Rome; Vitus his secretary had been left with instructions not to disturb him for anything (save the health of his mother or daughter). Attis was still at Titus', despite the fact the morning he had found out he had been due to go over and collect him. He couldn't face his body slave's smirks or even worse his concern or gods forbid his pity. His mother and daughter were left with run of the domus, and all of his other attendants were left behind. He needed to be alone.
It had happened so quickly Longinus only now had time to breathe. On the morning of the 23rd of May he had received a flustered, tear-stricken slave girl into his house who breathlessly informed him that her domina, his betrothed was on a ship bound for Carthage - escorted by her fathers men. Abandoning his trip to collect Attis, he instead had, without a moment's thought, taken a horse to Ostia, only to find out the ship had sailed at first light and was long gone by now. The rest of the day had been spent trying to barter passage on a ship to follow it, and it was only the insistence of his mother - finally - late that night, that made him relent. He would wait, he thought, to find out exactly what had happened. He would wait to be summoned by her father, and then make his amends in the proper, dignified fashion.
The letter he received on the 30th of May, the day before his wedding - when all the preparations were set, when nobody had been informed that anything was awry - was almost unbelievable. The graffiti that had gone up around the city - that he'd seen and largely ignored - had been sighted by those close to the Proconsul of Africa. He had sent his men, as quickly as good winds would allow, to collect his daughter and her sons - sweep them back into his aggressive, controlling arms. Yet that was not the worst of it. She didn't describe what happened, or how it happened, but the child was gone. Miscarried, lost forever. Gone. With no ties to him now, and her fathers rage, she - the woman he had been due to marry tomorrow had signed the letter;
The last few weeks, months had given me more pleasure or happiness than I ever thought to experience. But it is not enough. I see the folly in thinking I could have so much, for ignoring my father, for ignoring my duties as a mother and as a widow. I was wrong. Please do not come here, please do not write back Lucius. This is over - even if it is not the way we ever envisaged it to end. My children - those still with me - must come first, and I can no longer tarnish their reputations via my actions. I am sorry. Goodbye. Sestia.
Throughout his life he had experienced loss - as many do. His father, his mentor and friend, his men in war and in peacetime, his wife and now his betrothed and his child - who the Gods never even allowed to draw a breath. Yet the sting of this loss was so acute he could not cope. Not this time. He had packed that night and instructed Vitus to send messages to his friends on his behalf, saying merely that the wedding was cancelled and the engagement broken off. Should anybody pry, the reason was that the dowry could not be agreed. It was something simple - clean and neat that expunged them both of the dirtiness that had befallen them. He had left for Formiae the next morning after a brief, cold farewell to his mother and a challenging goodbye to his daughter. He did not know when he'd return. What was left for him in Rome now to bring him back? A daughter that barely knew him? A mother that was content to live her life as she'd always done in his absences? Friends, of course, but they would move on. It wasn't as if he had a great desire for politics or glory. No. He'd be better off in Formaie he thought.
So there he sat, on the waters edge. The wine he had drowned himself in that evening gave him pleasant, muddled sort of thoughts. It took the edge off of the wound that stung like a British axe to his chest. He cried. He didn't know the last time, certainly couldn't remember the last time he had cried but there he sat, sobbing into his hands. In the space of two weeks he had gone from a man of ambition; a decorated thrice-serving legate seeking a praetorship with a beautiful woman whom he loved (he begrudgingly admitted) about to be his wife, with a child on the way, to a man sat sobbing in the sand, alone.
He wondered if the Gods were laughing or sobbing with him.
Boys Night

Started by Sara · May 21

Nones of May 75AD
Longinus sat drumming his fingers against the rim of his wine cup, occasionally glancing at the door. What he enjoyed most, of course, about the Poppina Via Lata was the two-building scheme. The night would start here, in the building reserved for Rome's upper echelons before descending into the depravity with the plebs and the slaves next door. He took a sip and resumed his drumming, waiting for both Titus and Aulus, nerves eating into the pit of his stomach. Judging by the surprised reaction in their letters neither of them were none the wiser as to the true (at least initial) motivation behind the wedding which was a relief.
He'd carefully considered what he'd say and it largely centred on; not being sixteen anymore so knowing what he wanted; that he likes and admires Sestia; he's not getting much younger and needs a son, and well...it is him. Longinus was certainly never a man that could be considered entirely conventional. He did hope to brush the whole 'permission from her father' under the rug as much as possible, but his friends were astute men and would likely ask. He just hoped he'd come up with something convincing on the spot to explain it, because so far his mind was coming up decidedly empty.
His attention was caught by a shadow blocking his path and he glanced up from his thoughts to the face of his friend. A wide, beaming smile crossed his face as he embraced the man.

TAG: @Sharpie @Liv
To Titus Sulpicius Rufus, and to Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus

Started by Sara · May 21

Given it was by far not the usual way these sorts of things were done; there was no formal betrothal ceremony, no exchange of contracts, not even an inkling that such a thing was happening - really - Longinus felt it imperative that word got out on his own terms. But not to everybody. After a fairly frantic exchange with his mother, the man set down to put ink to papyri and drafted a series of letters. The first were for his cousins (the only other remaining Cassii-Longini) Lepidus and Cassia. Then came one to his old friend, and former mentee Silanus all the way in Greece - lightly alluding to the fact that he might well be visiting in person (there had to be some benefit to sailing all the way to Carthage, and a roundabout stop on the way back to see Lucius was a silver lining).
The final few were for his friends. Amongst those he composed two to his two closest friends. They were very similar (he was not a man to dally with correspondence any longer than necessary, and thus copied out most of the first letter into the second), albeit there were amusing differences in tone - far more jocular with Titus, and far more reserved with Aulus.
They were delivered to May the 4th, two days after the engagement by his Secretary who muttered and swore as he trekked over the city in the May sun.

To Titus Sulpicius Rufus from his friend, Lucius Cassius Longinus. Greetings!
I thought I'd drop you a note to a) enquire about how Attis is getting on, b) to inform you I'm getting married and c) ask if you are free for a drink next week?
I suspect your eagle eye will have picked out the second point as the most interesting (although I do wish to hear about Attis and whether he still has all his fingers), and I'm pleased to say that Sestia Vaticana and I are to marry on the 1st of June given it's auspicious date. I believe you know the lady in question - she only had positive things to say about you - which I have corrected, don't worry.
It'll be a small affair in the city, but obviously I would be delighted if Valeria and yourself save the date and make yourselves available.
I've also sent a very similar note to our good friend Aulus, and in said note have asked if he is free on the nones for a drink or two. As always, I expect you have no plans of any consequence, or no plans you cannot cancel to ensure you can come for a drink with a soon-to-be married man. We could slum it in the Poppina Via Lata?
Your friend,
Longinus.

TAG: @Liv

To Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus from his friend, Lucius Cassius Longinus. Greetings!
I'm writing for a dual purpose today, to a) ask if you are free for a drink next week? b) to inform you I'm getting married.
I suspect your eagle eye will have picked out the second point as the most interesting, and I'm pleased to say that Sestia Vaticana and I are to marry on the 1st of June given it's auspicious date. She mentioned yourself and Horatia met her at the Games not so long ago - I trust you approve?
It'll be a small affair in the city, but obviously I would be delighted if Horatia and yourself save the date and make yourselves available.
I've also sent a very similar note to our good friend Titus, and in said note have asked if he is free on the nones for a drink or two. We could slum it in the Poppina Via Lata?
Your friend,
Longinus.

TAG: @Sharpie
Catching Up

Started by Atrice · May 19

Early May, 75 AD
Ah, time for a bath. Silvanus was with him, of course, but he might get left behind to watch the clothes… Marcus didn’t want anything stolen from his things and he knew the bath slaves could be quite good at picking stuff up. It was nice to be in the city, but it wasn’t like he never came here. He didn’t mind the travel between the villa and Rome, because he loved being in Rome, despite all the filth and dirt in the streets. At least the houses where he came were nice and he really did enjoy the baths.
Silvanus carefully helped him undress and was instructed to never take his eyes off Marcus clothes, when Marcus finally wrapped a piece of cloth around his waist and entered the actual thermae. He moved straight into the tepidarium, the hot sweating room, where he found himself a seat by a wall on a marble bench. The hot and humid air was thick in the room and he could see other men sitting here and there, but he couldn’t make out who they were.
Then a tall and darkhaired figure appeared from the mist and sat down near Marcus, on the same bench as he. He paid him little mind at first, but thought he looked familiar out of the corner of his eye. And when he turned his head, who was it… none other than Lucius Cassius Longinus? The man who brought him to Rome, although he barely remembered much from it, since he was nothing but a small child. Of course he had seen the man since then, but they didn’t spend a lot of time together. He’d know him anywhere though and now he’d seen him, it would be rude to not speak to him.
“Greetings, Senator.” Marcus said politely, as he’d learned, while brushing some of his blonde locks away from his forehead. He could be quite different with his friends but as far as he knew, Longinus was a respected Senator and if he wanted to get his own hopes up about reaching so far, he should remember his manners… even in the thermae, “What a coincidence to find you here.”
@Sara
((does the dating of the thread work for you?))
The Big Reveal

Started by Guest · May 15

Late April 75CE
Sestia picked up the polished brass mirror and looked at her blurred reflection for the hundredth time. She set it back down again, got up and started to pace the tablinum. She smoothed her chiton down, again for the hundredth time, before poking her head out into the atrium to satisfy herself that no one was approaching with a message. She sat down again. Immediately she wanted to start pacing. She grit her teeth in frustration and told herself to sit still. A watched pot never boils.
She felt sick in her stomach. It was nerves. A tight fist of anxiety sat in there, heavy as led and bitter as gall. She noticed that her hand, resting against the ivory-inlaid arm of the chair, was trembling. She bit at the corner of a nail, worrying at it to try and distract herself.
She did not want to do this but there was no way around it. She was confident of her personal situation. A doctor could confirm it in due course but she could hardly summon one now, could she? She had to rely on her intuition and that was speaking to her clearly right now.
She had sent a message, couched in the most formal of tones, to Lucius at his domus. No one who saw it could read anything into it. It was a simple, spartan invitation to talk, the very same that might be sent to anyone. She had provided a time and date for him to come and visit. From her knowledge of his habits and schedule that she had already developed she had ensured that the proposed time was not guaranteed to find him otherwise engaged. To compel his attendance in any more strenuous a way would have looked bizarre.
He must wonder why - after all their meetings in the sordid surroundings of the Suburra - she should now ask him to see her at home. In her mind the decision was clear. She knew she had to tell him. She could not avoid that. She worried, though, that his response would not be favourable. She was going to present him with the reality of a prospective bastard. It was a staple of morality tales, plays generally, and most forum gossip that men, when presented with such an unexpected "windfall" would get on the first horse out of the vicinity and never be seen again. In the expectation that she might receive such a rebuff she had decided it was better to face that indignity here. In her domus he could not stage a scene. He could not get angry with her and try and force some removal of the offending infant. He could not berate her for her foolishness. If he wished to leave all he had to do was nod his head, walk out the door and never come back. It would break her heart but her dignity would be less badly beaten.
She had already made some preliminary enquiries so, if she had to leave, it would not look sudden. She had decided on a venue, if she had to go. Her late husband had a number of palatial estates in southern Gaul, near Narbo. Masquerading under pretend doctor's orders to avoid the heat of Rome, she would vanish with only a handful of slaves to distant Narbo, leaving her sons under the care of the rest in Rome. There, alone, she would give birth to the child and - if it lived through those first, dangerous weeks - she would return, bearing the infant under the guise of its new protector, the original mother having died. No one ought to know.
It was the only way.
She heard movement in the distance. Footsteps approaching. She wondered if she could actually do this? She could just tell him she was leaving. He never had to know. She could say it was over. It had all been a mistake. Why didn't she just say that?
@Sara