

Horatia Justina
Senatore-
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Player
Sara
About Horatia Justina
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Wife & Mother
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Face Claim
Lotte Verbeek
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Location
Rome
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Face Claim
Lotte Verbeek -
Location
Rome
Recent Posts
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Horatia relaxed into his arms, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be embraced. "You never struck me as a quitter," She glanced up over her shoulder at him - with a sly smile on her face, "Making excuses for shoddy work already? Such things wouldn't fly in a legion I'm sure." She felt her stomach flutter and flip as he left a kiss under her ear and managed to squirm out of his arms, "And flattery of that sort won't get you very far with me as your teacher either, I can assure you."
She grinned and tried to settle her thoughts, reaching out to take his hand and guiding it to the frame. "You see the pink one?" She brushed her own fingers over it. It sat between three woven rows of blue; above and beneath it. It was fiddly work to unpick - it was a large frame. "You sit round the other side and poke it through, and i'll take it from this side and do the same until we've unwoven the whole row, and then we'll have to re-do it by hand." She glanced up at him from the stool, with a worried glance. She didn't like to let things go, the perfectionist streak in her was pervasive, and she tried to ignore the hilariously inappropriate thoughts that her husband was going to ruin her work.
"Don't look at me like that," She grinned, "This is going to go on the floor of your fathers tablinum according to your mother, so it better be up to scratch." She warned him and passed him a small hollow needle, "To help with the unpicking if you need it." She suspected his fingers weren't as deft as hers. She sat back on the stool and patiently waited for him to attempt to start, musing to herself; "I was going to ask you, by the way, if you'd had any conversations with your father about his plans." She arched a brow up at him, "Whether he'll be coming back to Rome, when we return?" Tiberius and Aurelia were infrequent guests to the city which had helped in the early days of her and Aulus bonding once more after his absence, although she had mourned their loss when they had excused themselves to the Villa. They had been her companions for over six years when she should have had her husband, and their bond was as strong as iron from those yeas.
TAG: @Sharpie
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She arched a brow, "No clients pestering you with letters to fix this, or provide funds for that?" She grinned. "You're a man of leisure, Aulus Calpurnius Praextetatus, is this what your retirement will be like?" If he made it that far, of course, the Gods willing. Although Horatia had a suspicion that even if he did make it that far, he wasn't the sort of man to sit on his laurels and enjoy an easy life.
"And I have no objection to your company - I'm trying to relax whilst I'm here so have nothing pressing," She grinned - although at present she had objections to some of his company. She had - for whatever reason - forgotten to pack her silphium, like an absolute fool. She'd sent a discrete slave girl into town, and another farther afield to Napoli to seek some out but both had returned empty handed. She felt like an idiot for forgetting it, and wondered if he'd noticed her distance. The last couple of his advances she'd turned down with a feigned; 'I'm tired' or 'I've got a headache' but there were only so many maladies she could fake without arousing suspicion. She was half tempted to send Callista back to bloody Rome to get the silphium so she could actually enjoy her husbands company without worrying that every sly smile would turn into another rejection, frustrated night and a ruined mood. She had even, on the odd evening, wondered if she should just risk it and let herself be carried away by the lust and passion he still incited, before chiding herself. She did not wish for another pregnancy, she did not wish to feel that fear again - not that she'd ever admit her secret to anybody if she could help it.
Distracted by her own thoughts she blinked and glanced up at him, as if coming back from a million miles away. "Sorry, I was thinking of how I can put you to use." She managed a smile, "Come here - I hope you have nimble fingers, I could use them with this. You'll end the afternoon a professional weaver."
TAG: @Sharpie
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"I know you won't." She said with an impish smile, "As if I'd let you." Aulus and Tiberius, of course, didn't technically have to listen to her but she knew her opinions would count in this matter. Over the years she'd gathered the respect of her father-in-law and obviously Aulus. She also, likely, had better access to gossip about various families and eligible young men; women did love to chatter at their sewing circles and her own book club. She wasn't sure men liked to indulge in such matters in the same way.
She glanced up at him curiously for a brief moment before glancing back down at her work as her fingers nimbly unpicked the thread. She wondered if this was his way of gently enquiring about said memories, but decided it wasn't. He usually had more tact, and it'd been many, many years since those days and he'd never pressed in all that time. "Ah, but it has plenty of joyous memories too," She said - deftly sidestepping his words, "Calpurnia took her first steps not two paces from where you're sitting." She smiled to herself at the memory - the usually composed, reserved Aurelia beaming with joy at seeing the first awkward toddles of her granddaughter.
"But I'm fine," She said with a little shrug and a glance up at him, "Pleased to be here, that we can all spend some time together before..." She waved her hand, "You know - it all gets so busy." Her lips twitched in amusement. She was immensely proud of her husband, but would not let it go to his head. An imminent Consulship (Gods be willing) was no mean feat, but he was still just Aulus - the awkward, tongue-tied young Tribune who had proposed marriage after just shy of twenty minutes in her company in that garden in Greece. The sweet fool.
"Do you have no plans today?" She queried gently.
TAG: @Sharpie
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Horatia arched a well shaped eyebrow at her husband, a rueful smile on her lips as she did her mindless work; "How do you imagine I feel? You're almost a decade older than I am, I'm not even thirty three and I have two teenagers." She shook her head, "Where have the years gone?" She asked to nobody in particular.
She noted the inflection in his voice as he asked about Calpurnia and supposed it was a conversation they should have. She hadn't told him when her daughter's courses came last month as she knew that things could be a little irregular to begin with and there was no point flustering him unnecessarily. But despite poor Calpurnia's misery, it had come again this month and she sighed, considering her words carefully. "She'll be fine, getting used to life as a woman, unfortunately." She didn't look at him as she spoke - instead pretending to concentrate on unweaving the pink thread, "Her courses started properly this month and she's suffering for it, but the slaves and your mother are being good to her and she'll adjust with time." It was an odd time - simultaneously a child but at the same time a woman. "Don't worry," She said as she glanced up with a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth, "I won't bother you with the details." It baffled and amused her in equal measures that a man that likely saw his fair share of bloody wounds and catastrophic injuries in various battles over the year, should be so squeamish about a natural part of a woman's life. But such were all men.
"I did, however, speak to her last month when things were beginning and although she didn't say it, I think she's concerned that now she's a woman - of a fashion - she should be packing up her bags ready to depart for a marriage." She chuckled, "I told her in a roundabout way it won't be so quick but I'm sure she'd appreciate a calming word if you find a moment." Her daughter had been brought up as a well rounded girl, but with the ultimate aim of course of securing a good match. Now that it was upon her, however, she seemed to have faltered a little.
TAG: @Sharpie
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Horatia listened to his explanation and smiled. Aulus had as soft side that she suspected few actually saw besides the family. She'd never teased him about it - knowing the male ego to be a fragile thing - but she'd never forgotten his flustering and stuttering in the garden that day in Greece. It flushed her cheeks and made her chuckle even now, as she recalled it. "Sensible, and it gives time for Titus to pester your poor Father." She made no comment that she, herself, would probably enjoy a tour of the orchards and groves to see what was amiss - it suited her personality and her skills, but it wasn't her place. Instead she made do with critiquing her own handiwork on the loom.
Satisfied with the mental list she'd drawn up of things that needed fixing, she picked up the threads and needle, and begun pulling the pink line back through the rows, unpicking her handiwork. She glanced occasionally at her husband, musing in silence as he sometimes did. They had been married long enough for her to recognise him thinking deeply on something or other. She called over as she worked; "You should be careful thinking so deeply my love, if you frown like that and the winds change, your features will be frozen into stone and you'll look permanently troubled for the rest of your life, as if Medusa herself had visited." She arched a brow over her shoulder at him and continued to unpick the pink thread with her needle. "What's troubling you?"
TAG: @Sharpie
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She chuckled and relaxed into his touch and kiss. "It's not right." She said by way of an explanation, as if he would have any notion of what he meant. Her husband was educated in a great many fields but she suspected stitching and weaving was not one of them. "This," She pointed at some pink thread, "Is twisted, you see? It makes it messy." It looked perfectly serviceable, of course, but once she had noticed it she couldn't un-see it and it bothered her. Much as she enjoyed Aurelia's company she knew the woman wouldn't have understood Horatia's need to refine it so quietly unpicked her progress when alone. Or at least she was, until pleasantly disturbed by her husband.
"And how am I supposed to live up to the virtuous Livia herself, if you let me just use my slave girls for weaving and I don't partake myself? Tsk." She grinned. All women, of all social classes should master the basic skills although of course those of her station could weave and stitch and sew for pleasure rather than out of necessity. When she wished for new clothes she simply summoned fabric sellers and seamstresses, and didn't spend hours at her loom or crouched before needlework doing so herself.
Wriggling free from his embrace she studied the pattern, trying to remember exactly what things she needed to fix before embarking on a conversation with Aulus. She had an excellent memory but Aulus had a habit of distracting her, after all. "You did not want to go with Titus and your father?" She asked over her shoulder, gesturing as well for him to sit down before she turned her attention back to her work and mentally totted up the tasks left to complete on the loom. She knew when Aulus had first returned home there had been a little friction between both sets of fathers and sons. Tiberius had been a father to Titus for over six years when Aulus could not, although fortunately for all that particular tension had eased.
TAG: @Sharpie
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December 15th, 75AD
The villa in Baiae was a balm for Horatia's soul after a busy few months (years, really) with her family. She'd spent many happy months here during Aulus' long absence, with her in-laws and children and by herself, and always revelled in its serenity. She'd never asked her father-in-law whether he'd purchased the property himself or inherited it but either way it must have been worth a small fortune given its proximity to a sheltered beach and the lush orchards that stretched to the distance. She knew Titus and Calpurnia enjoyed it as much as her; Titus she suspected because he could pester his grandfather into telling stories from his youth, and Calpurnia because she felt like a proper grown-up in the company company of her refined grandmother. For Horatia it was the peace that she enjoyed the most.
She sat in a cluster of rooms designed, many moons ago, as the womens domain but they opened up into the rest of the house not unlike her father-in-laws tablinum. She'd spent the morning with her mother-in-law in the pursuit of womanly virtue. Calpurnia, to her embarrassment, had taken to bed. Her courses had started the month before and unused to the light-headedness and aches that accompanied it, had withdrawn to curl herself into her blankets in her room. Horatia tried to ignore the knot in her stomach that the start of her monthly bleed meant her daughter was well and truly becoming a woman, and weaving with Aurelia was a perfect distraction. It was not one of her favourite pastimes (although she vastly preferred it to the monotony of spinning the wool), but it was distracting and allowed her to concentrate on nothing but the interlacing and placement of the threads. She knew her family and their reputation would be under intense scrutiny on their return to Rome if Aulus' position as Consul was confirmed and she needed to keep her mind occupied so as not to dwell on it.
Aurelia had excused herself a little over an hour ago for her own respite and a lie down. Horatia, however, ever the perfectionist had decided to occupy herself with unpicking the threads that lay at odd angles and re-doing them from scratch. She worked in silence, errant strands of copper hair falling into her eyes which she had to swat away. She was dressed informally in plain stola and her hair artlessly done up, the very picture of relaxation. She suspected her husband, son and father-in-law out on some boys errand and was not expecting company when the sound of footsteps echoed and she turned her face up, her features melting into a relaxed smile. "Do not mock me," She warned with a gentle grin - she was not known for her weaving prowess and exclaimed her disinterest in it on more than one occasion to her husband, "And do not think I'm suddenly going to take up weaving every day when I'm back in Rome."
TAG: @Sharpie
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She smiled a little and eyed him quizzically; "We tolerate a lot," Her smile widened slyly, "They're only human. And a well-kept slave is better behaved than one cowering in fear." They were property and required to work on whichever task herself or Aulus (or his parents) dictated, but by in large they were decent sorts. Over the years there had been some troublemakers but they'd been quickly dispatched from the house. Little niggles popped up every now and again, such as the slave boy fantasising about the kitchen assistant and her need to speak to him, but by and large they weren't dramatic problems. Which is why they were under her purview rather than Aulus'. She mastered the home and familia after all - looked after it and kept it ordered, whilst he tended to his career and issues she was not permitted to deal in, given her sex.
She tugged one of his hands free from her waist and laid a gentle kiss on his knuckles. "Good." She said as she pulled away, her sly smile merging into one of wry amusement. "Because there's plenty more fish in the sea for me, if you do let me down." It was a joke of course. The thought of divorce - even back then, during their separation when it wouldn't have been the least bit scandalous - sickened her. She returned his hand to her waist and leant in to leave a gentle kiss on his lips, murmuring against them as she pulled back: "And how much do you love me? You soft-hearted, sweet, gentle man?"
TAG: @Sharpie
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"You'd better whisper," She teased with a sly smile, "You don't want the slaves to see you being so soft hearted." Her husband wasn't known for his gentleness after all. He wouldn't have ascended so high if he was tender all the time. And as if on cue, one of the younger, newer slaves in the house poked his head around her study door and was firmly batted away again with just one word from her husband. She had been due to discuss his infatuation with one of the cooks assistants (to the detriment of his work) with his domina, but Aulus' word was final and he scurried away. It was nothing that couldn't wait, anyway.
She flushed a little at his compliment and moved her arms from around his neck until her hands were either side of his face, holding his jaw and cheeks. "And I'm so very proud of you." It would have been nauseatingly sweet had it come from somebody else. "And I don't expect you to let me down now, Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus." She was not an easy woman to please, she had high standards for herself and her family and expected nothing but the best. Which is what he had delivered, consistently, time and time again. That he'd be a Consul in the new year was only further proof of that.
Gently, she silenced an response from him with finger against his lips and then leaned in to kiss him.
TAG: @Sharpie
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She listened, genuinely interested with a light smile on her face. "My husband was there for a time as a legate, his descriptions are...less than complimentary." She managed a small bubble of laughter, "But the writers have a more balanced view." All the writings she had read had mentioned rain, hills and cold. Much the same as Aulus' descriptions, although the authors also tended to emphasise the generosity of the (tamed) barbarians, the beauty of the nature and the emptiness. Horatia thought such a sparse lace might suit her, once it had been properly subdued.
"You haven't been outside the city?" She queried with an arched brow. Spending time in the country - whether visiting her reluctant sister at Tibur or going to the villa in Baiae during the summer months made her life in Rome a little more tolerable. There was only so long she could hack the sights and sounds (and smells) of the city.
"I'm sure now you're freed, and Calpurnia's service is nearly complete, that she'll invite you to spend time at the villa. It's beautiful, and peaceful." She offered a warm smile but kept her arms defensively wrapped around herself. "And I'm sure you should come for dinner as well," She arched a brow and studied him, "What an ultimate sign of progression - inviting the man who incited war against Rome as a dinner guest of the men who lead it." She shrugged lightly, "I know plenty about you Eppitacos, although I'm sure my son would rather hear the stories of your life first hand."
TAG: @Chris
Topics I Participated In
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Winter Wonders
Started by Horatia Justina ·
December 15th, 75AD
The villa in Baiae was a balm for Horatia's soul after a busy few months (years, really) with her family. She'd spent many happy months here during Aulus' long absence, with her in-laws and children and by herself, and always revelled in its serenity. She'd never asked her father-in-law whether he'd purchased the property himself or inherited it but either way it must have been worth a small fortune given its proximity to a sheltered beach and the lush orchards that stretched to the distance. She knew Titus and Calpurnia enjoyed it as much as her; Titus she suspected because he could pester his grandfather into telling stories from his youth, and Calpurnia because she felt like a proper grown-up in the company company of her refined grandmother. For Horatia it was the peace that she enjoyed the most.
She sat in a cluster of rooms designed, many moons ago, as the womens domain but they opened up into the rest of the house not unlike her father-in-laws tablinum. She'd spent the morning with her mother-in-law in the pursuit of womanly virtue. Calpurnia, to her embarrassment, had taken to bed. Her courses had started the month before and unused to the light-headedness and aches that accompanied it, had withdrawn to curl herself into her blankets in her room. Horatia tried to ignore the knot in her stomach that the start of her monthly bleed meant her daughter was well and truly becoming a woman, and weaving with Aurelia was a perfect distraction. It was not one of her favourite pastimes (although she vastly preferred it to the monotony of spinning the wool), but it was distracting and allowed her to concentrate on nothing but the interlacing and placement of the threads. She knew her family and their reputation would be under intense scrutiny on their return to Rome if Aulus' position as Consul was confirmed and she needed to keep her mind occupied so as not to dwell on it.
Aurelia had excused herself a little over an hour ago for her own respite and a lie down. Horatia, however, ever the perfectionist had decided to occupy herself with unpicking the threads that lay at odd angles and re-doing them from scratch. She worked in silence, errant strands of copper hair falling into her eyes which she had to swat away. She was dressed informally in plain stola and her hair artlessly done up, the very picture of relaxation. She suspected her husband, son and father-in-law out on some boys errand and was not expecting company when the sound of footsteps echoed and she turned her face up, her features melting into a relaxed smile. "Do not mock me," She warned with a gentle grin - she was not known for her weaving prowess and exclaimed her disinterest in it on more than one occasion to her husband, "And do not think I'm suddenly going to take up weaving every day when I'm back in Rome."
TAG: @Sharpie
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status quo ante bellum
Started by Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus ·
(Takes place in the evening of Ave Imperator! and Into the lion's den)
Aulus returned to his home feeling far more light-hearted than when he had left it that morning. He had almost not needed to head to the Castra Praetoria, not with Caesar's reassurance ringing in his ears, but some part of him had needed to meet the man who had unnerved his wife and threatened his children and slaves. After that meeting, he had no compunction whatsoever about leaving him to Caesar to deal with. He was still none the wiser as to why he had turned on Aulus' family, but the threat had gone and it felt as if a sweet breeze had blown through the house.
One of the house slaves offered him a cup of wine and, when questioned, the information that the mistress was in her own private study. Aulus dismissed the boy and turned to find Horatia.
He paused quietly at the door of her room, not wishing to disturb her if she was in the middle of something that could not easily be set aside. He smiled, the fond expression coming easily to his face as he watched her before knocking, the private pattern used just between the two of them.
@Sara
(Title: The situation as it was before the war)
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Sibling Solitude
Started by Horatia Justina ·
April, 74AD
Horatia ducked out of the litter and couldn't quite wipe the smile from her lips. Four years! Time had passed slowly in Rome, it seemed. Nothing much had changed during her time in Raetia, the streets were the same cluttered mass of plebs, the smells and sounds just as claustrophobic and even the people! Her in-laws had barely aged, it seemed and nor had her father - from whom she'd just departed. Besides some redness across his cheeks - a tell tale flush of too much wine, he had been as alert and astute as always; prying into her life as a father always did. Or at least, as her father always did.
But now it was time for an altogether less formal reunion (she hoped). She'd written to Livia to ask her to meet her at their brother Publius' domus. Their letters had become more infrequent to one another during the years, especially since the news of Gnaeus' passing and her remarriage and Horatia - ever practically minded - thought she'd assuage some of the awkwardness by having Publius there. Besides, she had missed her brother dearly and her nieces and nephews.
She was admitted almost immediately and blinked into the darkness of the atrium, smoothing out her stola and dropping the palla from her hair. She heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see her brother. Formality (usually the backbone of her life!) be damned, and she grinned, stepping forward to embrace him in a sisterly hug. "Publius!"
TAG: @Echo @Liv
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Girls and Gossip
Started by Sara ·
Mid-August, 75AD
Horatia sipped her wine, eyeing the dancers with amusement and interest. It was different, for a party, she'd grant their host that. Usually there were poetry recitals or dramatic performances and such and she had to admit it got a little...dry after a while. She was pleased that Antonia had spared no expense tonight. The dancers were from some Eastern province judging by the music that accompanied them and were mesmerising. She stood alone in the sea of people invited tonight; many she knew, others she did not. Aulus was sequestered away somewhere by the husband of their host discussing politics or his upcoming (potential) appointment to the Consulship and she cast him a wry, amused smile every now and again over the heads of other people gathered in the circle to watch the dancers.
She'd also, much like Antonia, spared no expense for this evening. She was wearing a stola as befit her rank and marital status, but it was fine garment of silk in the colour 1, almost akin to a burning sunset and it was left open at the arms - being held together by ornate gold clasps instead of stitched shut. Her vibrant red hair had been intricately braided and set up although not in the hyper-fashionable way some ladies piled it atop their heads. Her palla, draped over her shoulder and and arm, and the tunica she wore underneath her stola were a paler yellow. She wore minimal jewellery, as she customarily did, but the bracelets she wore glinted in the lamp light being cast across the triclinium. Whilst she didn't necessarily enjoy these sort of functions the way some social butterflies did, she always made an exceptional effort. She was the wife of one of the most powerful men in the city, and she had to look the part. Besides, she wasn't an old woman by any means and it was nice (in an odd sort of way) to have aspirational or a few longing looks cast her way.
She tried to ignore said glances as she stood watching the dancers, her back leaning against a pillar that opened up into the garden. She smiled to herself at the spectacle and murmured a positive comment at the lady stood to her side, unknown to her. It was only when somebody called her name did she pull her eyes away from the rhythmic movements. She recognised Pinaria Gaia, they moved in equivalent circles although she wasn't a close friend by any means. She offered a gentle smile. "Pinaria, it's lovely to see you." She leant in to kiss the woman on the cheek, "You look lovely."
TAG: @Atrice
1 The colour of her stola is this colour dress from Horatia's face claim in the Borgias, when they dressed up as Romans!
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Fastidious and Precise
Started by Echo ·
Early August, 75CE
Why was Caecina plagued with forced visits with people she didn't care to know? It was nothing personal against those she had to meet - she just had a million other things she'd rather be doing! And Juliana had an amazing ability to make connections for Caecina while being miles away at the villa. Today's visit was no different. She had been introduced to Horatia Justina before, and had attended a social gathering, a book club, at her home as well (also spurred on by her stepmother) but had never had a visit with the woman one on one. At the book club meeting, Caecina had made the appropriate niceties and then retreated to spend the rest of the evening with the one young woman she'd known there.
Because she'd never interacted one on one with the older woman, Caecina was going into the meeting today with little to no context or knowledge about her personality, and that intimidated her. The young senatore lady was of the notion that all older women were simply out to get their younger counterparts, to judge their new fashions and hair styles, to judge their adherence to the proprieties. Caecina was absolutely better at interacting with women her age than older women. But at least she had some knowledge about how to appease the old cats, so she was at least prepared on that front.
Caecina dressed especially carefully, choosing a more modest chiton than she usually wore. The fabric was a light blue, Caecina's favorite, and embroidered along the edge's by the girl's own hands, something she could brag about if she needed to defend herself. Her palla was also blue, though darker, and sparingly decorated. Her jewelry was tasteful and not too garish, and she brought along a bottle of fine wine from her father's cellars as a hostess gift. Upon arrival, Caecina was shown into the entryway to wait for her hostess.
@Sara
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Remember, remember
Started by Sara ·
December, 74AD - the Via Latina, a day's walk/half a day's ride from Rome
As was customary, Horatia lit the sprig of incense in front of the marker, erected some way back from the dusty road that drove south to Naples. Unlike many of the funerary monuments constructed on this route, the one she came to visit was set back into the forestry - concealed from travellers, and secluded. Her arms were covered in a thin film of goosebumps at the memories that flooded her mind in this place, and why she had deigned to visit, in secret. It had been twelve years but everything was as vivid as if she were reliving it yesterday; the wight of the toddler Titus in her arms, the ear piercing scream, the smell of blood, the feeling of fingers working under her tunica1. She swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. This was an evil place, full of awful memories, but one she had to visit.
A year after the incident she had erected the stone to Decius, the man that had lost his life here. He was a slave, his absence hadn't been commented on or noticed by her parents in law, or Aulus when he had returned home some seven years later, but Horatia keenly felt his loss. He had protected her, even in immense pain. He had been kind. And so she visited every year she could, on the anniversary of his passing, of that fateful day. She never told her husband or own family where she was going; insisting that she was going to visit a friend in a villa and so needed a horse and her freedman; employed for her protection. Said freedman stayed well back from her, standing with the horses on the road. Neither did her husband or her family know about the little monument she had erected; she used funds from her father which she had informed him was for repairs to a women's respite home in the Aventine. She had then told her parents-in-law a similar tale to get double the funds so she got her stone and the women got their home. Everybody won, but poor Decius.
She sniffed back her upset as she crouched in front of the marker, until she heard a twig snap; somebody walking through the clearing. She spun around on her heel and blinked, trying to figure out who it was.
TAG: OPEN
1 Horatia is thinking about her flight from Rome to Baiae in the civil war, as recounted here.
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omnia vincit amor
Started by Sharpie ·
November 59 AD; Greece
The slave hadn't been very forthcoming when Aulus said that he was here to meet with his master, but had admitted him, at least. There seemed to be little reason to have admitted him because he was led past any areas of the house where either Marcus Horatius Justinus or his son Publius might reasonably be found, and taken to the garden. It was not the first time that Aulus had been admitted to the garden - he was a close enough friend of Publius' that he had been allowed access to a relatively private part of the house before.
He was not alone; there was someone sitting on one of the marble benches and Aulus stopped, unwilling to intrude further. And yet, as he began to make his apologies, he came to a stop, captivated by what he saw. He had met Publius' sister before, but she had not really caught his eye, among everyone else, with her hair done up in what must be the very latest style in Rome, and weighed down with jewellery, the very height of elegance. This simply-dressed woman was far more elegant in her simple clothing and with her hair artlessly done up.
"I beg your pardon, I had come to see Publius," he managed. "I am sorry to have disturbed you." He would offer to go, but remained frozen in place, utterly captivated.
@Sara
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Gossip Girls
Started by Joaquin ·
The early summer sun was out, brightening the city’s white columns and terracotta, and with good weather came the endless prospects the outside world had to offer. While Valeria was often content staying at home with her wax tablet and scrolls, she also found herself in need of stimulation and company outside her family. Because the high-end bathhouse was a place of both leisure and a cultural hotspot with the occasional theatre or music performance and a collection of literature housing reading rooms and a library with shelves for scrolls. Despite having the litter brought to the baths where she intended to enjoy a warm soaking and massage, Valeria was gowned – for the journey – as an artist would express herself: in bright colour, with a thick, styled wig, and kohl.
She made sure to have Horatia accompany her. “Think of the fun we’ll have,” she promised. After all, the weather, and an excursion anywhere put her in good spirits.
As they left the heat of the sun in the front gardens of the bathhouse, they were welcomed by the coolness of the bathhouse interior. Although music or the projection of dramatic lines were not yet filling up the frescoed walls, the high domed ceiling compensated for it with the sounds of echoing footfall on marble and the flapping of birds that had found their way inside through the skylights.
“Oh, I was hoping they would be here,” Valeria gasped eagerly as her eyes caught the set-up of stalls near the entrance, each were brimming with colourful trinkets and perfumes. The woman made a quick beeline towards them, pressing her fingers with their polished and coloured nails here and there as she pulled one thing out after the other followed by a “how much?” before she put it back. It was never a question of money as it was that Valeria simply liked the victory of a good bargain.
After having some perfume sprayed on to her wrist, Valeria took a whiff before turning to Horatia, holding it out for the woman to smell. “What do you think? It doesn’t smell too much like a centurion’s sweaty ass, does it?”
@Sara
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When I Wake
Started by Sara ·
2nd July, 75AD - Porta Absidata
Horatia had many hobbies; foremost amongst them was reading, but besides from her book club which was flourishing, reading rarely offered the opportunity to better her family. Charitable work, on the other hand, was a noble pursuit for women of her class and it was something she genuinely enjoyed. It was why she found herself in the lowest of the low regions surveying the damage caused by the earthquake of two days ago. She was not alone, of course, it would have been suicide for a patrician and a woman to wander freely around the porta absidata without some accompaniment and the freedman employed for her protection trailed behind her, along with a slave of her husbands who had menace on his face and in his gargantuan frame - even if he had the gentlest heart underneath it.
She was here largely to survey the damage before putting plans to her father for money to repair this insulae and shops damaged. Not anything degenerate, of course, she didn't want her charitable deeds to go toward rebuilding a brothel or the like, but a herbalist? A baker? She would be more than willing to impart coin and procure an architect to help.
Her own domus, or Aulus' as it was, had survived fairly unscathed besides a few unseemly cracks that were already being plastered over. To see the devastation of some of the dwellings here though made her almost nauseous. People were still being pulled out from the rubble and she had to turn her head when a woman - of her own age and with bright copper hair so like her own - had been pulled out without life's breath. But being a sheltered woman, she was largely oblivious to the Plebs here. She rarely dealt with them, and had rarer still entered their domain in times of trouble. It was why the murmurs and the shouting passed her by. It wasn't until a stone, followed by a cup of foul smelling liquid were hurled past the small group that she realised something was brewing.
Her freeman glanced at his charge - dressed simply (no need to be ostentatious in times like this) but still obviously wealthy and murmured to her; "We should leave, my lady, it's not safe." But it was too late. The shouting became a chorus of bellows - not directed at her, of course, but at the situation as loved ones were pulled moaning in pain or still completely from collapsed buildings and children wailed in hunger as supplies had ceased arriving into this district. More things were thrown and Horatia felt her heart quicken. She allowed herself to be tugged away from the small riot that was forming from the depressed and the downtrodden, as their shouts grew louder. But her freeman and the slave were not quick enough to pull her out of the mess that the earthquake created as something was thrown, hitting her square next to her eye. The light around her grew dimmer and she fell like a sack into the waiting arms of her freedman.
When she woke up she blinked. Her right eye wouldn't open fully and she could smell acrid smoke in the air, somewhere distant. Somebody was sitting above her and she blinked her good eye and recoiled. Where on earth was she?!
TAG: @Chevi
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Two can take on the world
Started by Sharpie ·
Aulus had dismissed Felix and Callista and spent a little while considering the situation, turning options over in his head, before coming to a decision. Gods knew whether it would be the right one or not, but it was one for better or worse. He opened the tablet up again, memorised the list of names that it held, and calmly erased the list with the blunt end of the stylus before standing.
He had been married for over a decade. He and Horatia had faced trials and troubles of all kinds, separately and together, and weathered them. Yet he could only recall once when Horatia had had that look on her face - the night he had taken Felix and slipped out into the madness ruling the streets of Rome, to try to get out of the city, leaving her with a young child who'd barely taken his first steps, and another growing inside her. They had not known that last then, but the knowledge or lack of it would have made no difference to what Aulus had needed to do.
His wife would be in the garden - it was her safe space in the house when she needed peace, calmness and to be alone.
He found her, sitting on the marble bench in the exedra overlooking the garden, sitting very still, her hands folded in her lap, and with a look on her face that tore at his heart.
"Horatia."
@Sara
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