Jump to content

All Activity

This stream auto-updates     

  1. Today
  2. Certainly, Charis could take care of whatever his master needed in the night, but could she do it well, he wondered. If it was a woman that Tertius had wanted, he understood that as a man, he had his limitations, it was as Tertius had said, there were things that he couldn’t give him. For anyone else that might have been a sufficient explanation, or it would have at least softened the experience, biology couldn’t be argued against. But for Hector, it added a layer of frustration. Especially that it was to be a frequent arrangement from now on and with another slave in the household no less. He had never been with a woman and outside of producing offspring, he rarely found the appeal these days. As a result, he couldn’t empathise with his master’s desire at all, even more when it was for a woman like Charis. He didn’t dare ask either in case it inspired more jealousy. When Tertius touched him, he instinctively leaned in. “It doesn’t quite compare, it was far too difficult,” he confessed. “The rustling, the snoring, the smell. Some of them are like owls. Imagine, only two hours of sleep.” His inner primadonna came out in small ways. It had been some time since he had shared space with other slaves or slept in a bed fit for one. “But I would sleep anywhere you told me to sleep, even if it were the floor or on my feet.” @Atrice
  3. Ardra was dissatisfied with her brother’s response and expected a love story of the ages, instead she was met with him changing the subject. But within moments, her attention was on the child’s names again and she nodded to the suggestion of “Moira”, which sounded quite beautiful, and Turi’s compliment did indeed distract her further. Not before rolling her eyes at the fact that Immin thought the child was a boy, Ardra was sure it was a girl and wanted it to be. But if the child was a boy, she’d love him all the same and was content with “Calum” or “Cal”. As her siblings spoke some more, she began to eat away at her meal, enjoying every bit of it because Immin wouldn’t be. Ardra had been quite young when Erea met her husband and the marriage had been something that tickled the girl’s imagination, hoping for the exact same thing one day. “You heard Turi, he doesn’t need a wife because I apparently feed him so well,” said Ardra. She herself hoped to be married, she liked a good number of people, every boy and man was a potential husband, but with her family’s predicament, she wanted to help as much as she could before being whisked away. She didn’t mind waiting. “As for myself, I want to wait a year or two before getting married. I think seventeen would be the right age for a marriage. Not too old and not too young.” It was probably for the best too but as she continued to speak, she began to turn bright red and smile a little too much. “But there is one boy…” More like several. “And I think he is handsome and smart. Maybe you both could put a good word about me. I’m too shy to talk to him.” @Polarity@Sara
  4. Britannia, 62AD Attis had finished his errands and returned to his master's tent to see the blond British girl prisoner being led out. He wasn't sure what state of mind he was going to find his master in, so entered cautiously and quietly, wanting only to set the place to rights while disturbing his master as little as possible. Unfortunately, that was not to be. There was something on the ground just inside the entrance to the tent. by the time he registered it was there, it was too late and he had fallen full-length, his feet caught in strands of cut rope. He ended lying on his belly almost at his master's feet, cursing his uncharacteristic clumsiness even as he raised his eyes tentatively to meet his master's gaze. "I beg your pardon, domine, I just felt the need to demonstrate that I worship the very ground you walk on," he said, the quip rising to his lips almost without thought, even as he sought to get to his knees and thence back to his feet. @Sara
  5. Joaquin

    Face Claims

    Chloe Pirrie plays Valerica Flacca Thank you
  6. Yesterday
  7. The lack of clues as to the boy's whereabouts was hardly surprising. Rome was a big city, and many slaves worked indoors, venturing outside only on rare occasions such as festival. That, if the boy even was in Rome - after two years he could very well be anywhere, from Lusitania to Syria. Still, Titus felt sorry for his friend."Give my secretary his description, won't you? I've got this new slave whose greatest talent is getting lost in the city, might as well have her do something useful while she's at it." Provided she managed to find her way back to the domus. He beamed at the mention of his wife in such good terms. "I'm sure she'll be happy to, just tell her when." Knowing Valeria, she probably wouldn't waste much time finding out the whos, whats, whens and hows that had happened during the years of their absence, since gossip allowed for prolific flights of writing fancy. "What are you going to do with all that gold anyway, with no wife or public office to relieve you of it?" Titus laughed, clearly amused by his own quip. Was a praetorship really such a preposterous notion? The laughter died out and he stared blankly at the other man, not quite sure how to respond, before concluding that another swig of the fine Alban was response enough. "I don't think I'm a bad judge of character - except, of course, for the day I accepted your offer of friendship, which I'll rue until I die." He shot Longinus what he hoped was a regretful glance. "And I don't think I'm the kind to get drunk on power either. How many times have you seen me torture prisoners just for kicks?" For information? Sure. As punishment? Absolutely. For fun? Nope. Titus did not derive pleasure from seeing people suffering gratuitously under his command. Getting drunk was best done with wine, as he was putting into practise at that very moment. "No shame-" he paused to help himself to more wine, "in admitting that. You've got an excellent record, Longinus. Even if you never wanted glory, it found you and stuck with you. And I'm sure it'll stay that way if you serve as legate for the fourth time, be in Judea or Syria or wherever. You're good at that." He popped a small square of cheese into his mouth, grimacing as he chewed it. Blue cheese was one thing, but this was fucking mould. He'd have to have the thing banished from his house under the guise of an offering to some minor deity. At last he managed to swallow the grisly piece and hurried to wash off the flavour with yet a little more wine. "Honest opinion: if you need more time to grieve your wife and don't feel like dealing with your mother and Roman society in general, take another post knowing it may be your last. If nothing else, you'll come back richer, perhaps wiser too." A small pause to assassinate another slice of ham. "However, I also think that you run the risk of people thinking you're only good for that one thing. Like 'oh, Longinus does such a great job as legatus, why even bother considering him for anything else', you know?" Titus set his cup on the table and stood up abruptly; his eyes took just a second too long to focus again. "Wait just a moment, I've got an idea." He ambled over to a small desk and rummaged through one of its drawers; after a few seconds he found what he was looking for, and returned to his seat with an air of self-satisfaction about him. He held up a hand in front of Longinus: in it was an aged sestertius. "Heads says legions, tails says civilian career. What's it gonna be, legatus?" He threw the coin up in the air and waited for it to fall on the back of his hand; when it did, he immediately covered it up with his other hand, giving his friend a mischievous grin at the same time. "Well?" Whatever result Longinus had hoped for while the coin was still in movement would reveal what in his heart of hearts he really wanted. @Sara
  8. Blood mixed with water as Titus carefully rinsed his hands clean. Stepping away from the basin, he flicked his hands, spraying pellets, before a slave came running to him with a cloth to dry his hands. “Stop your moaning,” said Titus as if someone else’s pain bore him, dabbing his hands gently with the cloth. “If he says he wants to fuck you with a club, you let him. So long as he pays me, you will spread your legs and let him do as he pleases.” His fist spoke a thousand words, the woman wouldn’t displease another customer again. Titus was the heart of the place, his workers much like his veins and arteries, keeping the establishment’s blood pumping. Any faulty on his workers’ part was a faulty on his. Without another word, he left the room into the greater brothel. The Elysium was alive, candle lights were flickering in its dark, winding corridors and the familiar sounds of desire sang through the air like travelling music. Soon, his eyes fell on a man. Titus’ hand fell and slapped the butt-cheek of a wandering prostitute, ordering her to gather a number men and women for display in one of the rooms. Pacing towards the man with confidence, his lips upturned into a welcoming smile, the sides of his eyes crinkled in a joyful manner but his eyes were as empty as death itself. “Good evening,” he said, slapping two hands together. “What are you hoping for today? We have a number of girls and boys, young and fresh from past the Erytraen Sea, should that interest you. But, of course, you are welcome to choose your pick. I’ll have you know that we offer all kinds of services here at the Elysium, it’s the only place in Rome that allows your greatest, most wicked desires to come true.” And with that, he offered the man a wink. “And all for a decent price.” @Atrice
  9. With Publius ill, Valeria often visited her father’s in the mornings, giving him the company of his only living child and helping out her mother around the domus to alleviate the stress. His sickness, which was described by the physician as a ‘pneumonia’, seemed vile with a heavy phlegmatic cough and given his age, there was always a buried fear inside Valeria that one breath would be his last. When they had first arrived in Rome, Valeria had herded the children along with her but as time went on, it seemed better that only she went for a multitude of reasons, even if their presence did seem to brighten their grandfather’s days. After one such morning, Valeria returned home, seeking out a particular reclining seat accompanied with cushions that was brought out by the slaves into the gardens. Despite the fact the days had been growing colder, the Italian sun was warm against the skin. She was rather proud of ‘her’ garden, as she liked to call it, despite it being considered an ‘indulgence’ by some, in the summers, it would be lush and bursting with vivid flowering plants, including saffron and hyacinths, but now, the greenery had begun to fade into autumn. With a scroll that she had obtained the night prior at the launch of a novel by a writer who had gained a celebrity status, she settled down comfortably with a wine glass that was refilled frequently at her request. She had never heard of him, Pustula they called him apparently, but so far, it seemed so bad that it was good, which might have been the unintentional appeal. Intermittently through all the shuffling of the parchment, there were loud but short laughs. @Liv
  10. Sharpie

    Face Claims

    Anthony Higgins plays Attis
  11. Can I request a domus for Longinus please in Domi Aventini Minoris Thank you!
  12. Sara

    First Encounter

    "Questions, questions, questions." He couldn't help but laugh. New slaves who hadn't yet learnt their rules were often so but being in an environment where his word was gospel and few dared to speak unless spoken to, it was novel and he had forgotten how it felt. It amused him, a touch. She certainly had fire. "Lucius Cassius Longinus," He gestured to himself, "My name. But domine to you, you'll learn." He waved a dismissive hand. She'd have to learn, else she'l be on the midden heap quicker than the slaves at the mines. She had a long road ahead, but it seemed one she was willing to learn and that gratified him. Glancing at her, up and down he nodded approvingly with a grin; "It does, please me." She'd earn him plenty. She was young enough to train and pretty, but evidently fierce and made of strong stock to stare down a man that had likely killed her friends, her family perhaps. He sighed, satisfied and slumped down a bit against his desk. His wound throbbed with pain and he could feel fresh blood dribble underneath his tunic. He'd have to find that medicus but Gods he'd rather do anything else than be stuck by the wizened little man's needles for further stitches. Even if that meant talking with a disrespectful slave. At least it wasn't physically painful. He picked up his discarded cup, the one with fresh water in (he'd had enough wine for tonight, he knew it didn't help much after battle and only made the dreams more vivid), and took a sip, gesturing to her. "You can take that off," He held up his hand clarifying, "Just the breastplate, I might keep it as a memento." He supposed she might be concerned by his motivations, getting her to undress (even just the one layer) but honestly, he was just thinking how fine (and amusing) it would look back in Rome, on his wall. TAG: @Atrice
  13. "Looking but...no leads." He'd not looked hard though, granted. He'd had other priorities upon his immediate return home and despite speaking to the slavers his mother had supposedly sold him to, no sign had been forthcoming. He suspected he'd been put to use in another house, new name, new family...it was not altogether uncommon to lose slaves in the heaving mass of Rome although it was irritating. He snorted in amusement at his description and shrugged, "I'm in no rush but as soon as the beard and I are ready, please line Valeria up ready to vet them on my behalf, she seems like she has a good head on her shoulders," And was good company he recalled - his friend was lucky, "Else I'm fleeced by some uspstart equite girl intent on stealing my gold." Truthfully that didn't sound like the end of the world, as long as she was good fun. But that wasn't a conversation for now, he was still grieving - try as he might to be suppressing it. He could act fine all he liked, but it didn't make the nightmares at night any easier. He listened with good natured intrigue to his friend but couldn't help but arch his brow in surprise, and queried; "Never had you down for a praetor," He grinned, "Have the lives and fortunes of citizens in your hands, Gods help us..." He jested before adding seriously - stretching his legs out with a satisfying sigh as he did so, "But it makes sense." Titus would be fair, and impartial. And it seemed as if one needed the civilian side these days, to achieve anything of note in their preferred field. "I have no plan," He raised his hands as if in mock defence, "And I'm not ashamed to admit that. You know me," He shrugged, "Never one for glory, not really." Truthfully Longinus often felt he was born missing a fundamental Roman attribute; that of ambition. He wanted to succeed and excel at what he did, but he was largely covent with his position and wanted only advancement in the fields he enjoyed for their enjoyment, not for the glory. He'd sometimes thought that eventually he'd make a good Proconsul somewhere, but that would require years worth of graft in arenas he was largely not qualified for. With a sigh, he sipped his wine and ran a hand across his short beard; "Legate, again," He rolled his eyes as if mocking that he'd been afforded the impressive appointment three times, "I can't stomach the thought of a praetorship - not right now. I just need to...figure out the place. Britannia's out, at least whilst things remain calm and Dacia - despite your helpful language tutorship doesn't appeal," He sighed, "It's not up to me but I might try and press for an appointment out East somewhere, I've only ever been west." He took another piece of meat, Titus had certainly laid on the goods today. "Honest opinion time...do you think I'd be a fool to not aim higher, try something new? Or do you think another post sounds right?" He needed another opinion, another voice, to shake him out of his rut and useless drive to the afterlife by chasing endless military postings at the same rank. TAG: @Liv
  14. Gothic

    Attis

    Your application has been accepted. Please make sure to update your necessary claims and feel free to make your plotter.
  15. She flushed at his remark, amused but also...flustered. Whilst she wasn't naive or innocent, her intimate experiences were evidently far fewer than Alexius'. Although she would have guessed that merely by his mannerisms. Nonetheless, it intrigued her and she asked with an amused expression but naivety: "And how many women you've...bedded are your friends then? Out of the thousands that have been through your bed." She arched her brow mischievously but was genuinely intrigued. At his final question she exhaled and had to will herself to pick up the cup in a toast, "To friends. Just good friends." Gods Tertius should give her a bloody medal for this, or at the very least a night off from his bed. She took a sip of the wine and winced from the taste. Gods what a waste of her coin. She smiled impishly though; "So it safe to say I am forgiven then, for being miserable bitch?" It had been one of the first time she'd really snapped since her arrival in Rome, and fortunately her dominus hadn't been there to see it. TAG: @Atrice
  16. Gothic

    Bárðr

    Your application has been accepted. Please make sure to update your necessary claims and feel free to make your plotter.
  17. He said something about mines, but she didn’t know what he was talking about. She didn’t get down on her knees before him either, she stood and she didn’t look away and tried to not focus on him spinning the blade in his hand. Maybe he would kill her. Maybe not. He said hard work came with anybody’s life. But harder with Roman slaves. They would beat or flog their slaves. She didn’t like the sound of that. Then the commander ran his hand through his hair again. If he hadn’t been so… superior to her and so irritating and so Roman, she might have found him good looking. But now he spoke again of Rome… but only after tossing the knife back to the table with quite the noise! He said something about a ludus and gladiators and she had never heard those foreign words before. She narrowed her eyes and then he went on to speak of people fighting each other for entertainment and sometimes to the death. That was what she had heard about! All he did was really prove to her, that everything she heard about the Romans was true! Romans would make slaves fight and kill other slaves for fun. And apparently, they were called gladiators, such slaves. He also spoke of gold and prestige and honor, but what honor was there in murdering someone for entertainment? Then he walked away from her again and she followed him with her eyes. He seemed tired. Cinnia was tired too, but she was now a slave and had no chance to get any rest. She had not had anything to eat or drink since before the battle… but she stayed focused, when he said he’d give her the choice of dying now or as a gladiatrix. Maybe she would have a chance to escape on the way to Rome. It was far away. “You know my name. Why should you not tell me yours?” Cinnia asked, when he pointed out she didn’t know his name… “And if I can go to Rome and fight and be free again… that is what I will do.” She said, “If it pleases you.” Words spoken that a slave should speak, but not as mockingly as she said it. @Sara
  18. Bummer. Longinus hadn't taken the bait, but Titus did not lose heart; instead, he rewarded his friend's motion of confidence with his best and most heartfelt showing of the digitus impudicus - a gesture that would come to be known in modern times as flipping the bird. Nevertheless, he quickly dropped it out of respect while the other man elaborated on what had transpired with his bastard. The more he heard, the more bewildered Titus grew. Two years and still no trace of the slave - could he have been ordered killed and not just sold? Longinus was used to seeing things from a myriad perspectives, as any good commander and strategist would be: he may already have considered this possibility. "By Mars, not even the Greeks could've come up with a story like this. Are you still looking for him?" He elected to make no further comments about the sneaky wench his friend had for a mother, as he might say something he came to regret and ruin the friendship. And of course the harpies and vultures of Rome would have already set their sights on Longinus. Remarriage was expected at some point, but not even two months had gone by since Antonia's passing; unless Longinus were dead set on getting his daughter a mother figure as quickly as possible, Titus didn't see it happening before the new year. "Bet your house'll be swarmed by single ladies of good standing or their representatives the day you do away with that beard. Hell, you can even be like Paris and choose the most beautiful. At least you'll have something nice to look at in the mornings." The two sat in agreeable silence, and despite the seriousness of the subject, Titus couldn't help but smile a little as he brought the cup to his lips and drank some more. Misery loved company, and it was sad yet comforting that Longinus was struggling with precisely the same decisions. "That's exactly it. And those old buggers will outlive you and me," he chuckled mirthlessly and took another swig of wine. "The senate meetings aren't the worst part for me. You can always just think about something else. It's not like they pay attention to what you say anyway, we're just spring chickens to them." Titus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. What route, indeed? "I don't know," he confessed, shaking his head. "One day I wake up and think I've made up my mind, but when I go to bed at night I've come to the opposite conclusion. I almost wish Quintus Caesar would drop another term on my lap and make the decision for me." His goblet was now empty, but he didn't call for the slave just yet. "On the other hand, praetor has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Propraetor sounds even better. And I don't have to tell you what comes after that, Longinus." Two claps later, the slave came and went with practised efficiency, leaving two full goblets as the only evidence she'd even been there. Titus didn't waste time in taking a new sip. "How about your plan?" @Sara
  19. Sara

    First Encounter

    "In the mines, perhaps." He shrugged. He'd sent a few of his problematic spoils to them, but with regret. He wasn't heartless. He spun the blade in his hand and narrowed his eyes. He had anticipated she'd change her mind, she was young and whilst she might be a woman, underneath it all everybody feared death and those that said they didn't often changed their mind when faced with the end of a pointed blade. He kept the knife in his hand and glanced over her surreptitiously, muttering in Latin: "Hard work comes with anybody's life." With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and decided to give her one last chance. She was a girl - too bold for her own good, too hotheaded and confident but she was stillest a girl. And he new what it was to have overconfidence and be thrust into war. She looked not much younger than he had been on his first foray into Britannia. In the end he moved and threw the knife back on the table with a clatter and rounded back on her. "You'll go to Rome, and be sold into a Ludus, it's a school for fighters, Gladiators." He watched her for a reaction, guessing that she didn't understand the concept. He explained; "Gladiators, Gladiatrices - women - fight one another, for entertainment, for gold and prestige and honour. And sometimes to the death," There was no point lying to her. "But you can earn your freedom." He sighed and went to lean in front of his desk, the exhaustion of the day catching up with him. "It is your decision. I'll give you that," One final choice, before her life was no longer her own. "You're not one to be a house slave so...Gladiatrix and risk death, or death now - here, in a tent as a captive at the hands of somebody whose name you don't even know." TAG: @Atrice
  20. Sara

    Changed History

    He wanted to scream, he felt so confused. Instead he settled on picking up a large rock in the courtyard and throwing it as hard as he could against the wall behind him; "Lice?" He scoffed as he turned back around. Was she telling the truth? She might well be, but he felt so conflicted he didn't know. But he also didn't want to believe he'd been duped for years by a woman. Not in the legions, where he prided himself on his skills as as a leader and the rigorous discipline he employed. "Don't tempt me." He scoffed and shook his head. With narrowed eyes, he tilted his head to the side and glanced her up and down. She was slight, concealing her sex wouldn't be overtly difficult for her he imagined unlike some of the buxom beauties in the Venus. "I think your lying." He shrugged, "And I think you know who I am and I think three years ago we were in Britannia and I sent you to Petuaria to go and get intelligence on their insurrections." He glared at her, "And I want to know - if your Aius' twin sister, how on earth you ended up in the employ of one of the Imperials? His connections weren't that good." TAG: @Chevi
  21. He answered her question about why he would sell her, and he just said he didn’t think she would be serving or mopping floors in his house. Damn right he was. Not if she could help it. And then she decided to give it a go and see how far she could push him… and if this really was the day she was supposed to die after all. She would be proud and strong, like she’d been brought up to be. She would make her family and her ancestors proud by standing up to him. And maybe she would see them all in the afterlife… Although, could he hear her heart pounding? She felt like he should, but he probably couldn’t. And then he walked over to his desk and picked something up. A double-edged blade. Her eyes widened for a moment, but she stood still, suddenly unsure about her plan. Maybe she could fight him. No, she couldn’t, but she could make an attempt… maybe? He came closer, he was taller and broader than she and began asking how sure she was and said he’d give her a chance to fight and earn gold and become free… and come home. Then wondered again if she would die. She gazed up at him. She could be free again? She didn’t know that. “I didn’t know your slaves were set free. I only know Romans make their slaves work until they die. And they die young.” Cinnia said, interested now. She hated to go back on her words, but… now that he mentioned it, she would know more, “I thought it would be better to die now than to die from hard work. That does not sound like a good way to die.” @Sara
  22. It didn’t matter what she said. Her master still sounded like a brute of a Roman bastard to Alexius. He didn’t treat her right and she deserved that. Still she claimed her master was not that bad and he hadn’t hit her or hurt her. But he still took her against her will and she even felt she shouldn’t be seen with Alexius… she made that clear last time. To him, her master sounded a tad bit possessive, but of course, that was normal for a Roman and his slave. Despite everything, he wanted her. Despite her master, despite how she kept saying they shouldn’t and couldn’t. Why should two people, who desired each other, not have each other? Sure, it wasn’t love, but pleasure and good company also counted for something! And the more she turned him down, the more he might want her. She finally pulled her hand from his and said it would all come out and wondered what Alexius’ mistress would think of it. Right, Oriana… he wanted to say that she wouldn’t have to find out, but what if she did? She did go and talk to Helios that night, a while ago. What if he found out and said something to her… Alexius looked at Charis with his puppy eyes and a sigh, he didn’t have a good answer to her question about his mistress. He really didn’t. It was all just a fucked up mess, wasn’t it? Then she wondered if he had ever been friends with a woman he found tempting… he smiled playfully, “I’ve been friends with women I have sex with.” He said with a grin then, “Really, I am even still friends with some of them. So I guess that’s a yes to your question?” Although he supposed she asked if he could be friends with someone he found tempting, but didn’t have sex with… “You want to be friends? Just good friends?” @Sara
  23. Chevi

    Changed History

    "Twin brother?" For a moment, she though she was going to get away with it. Any Roman man with half a brain and half the balls would have more readily accepted that twins could look this much alike than accepting the possibility that a woman fooled the legions for years. "And I suppose your hair. Is a new style I'm not au fait with? Or is it from where it's not grown back, from when you were lying to the legion, Aius?" Aia stared back, setting her jaw. Decimus would be shitting himself right about now. "Lice." Pause. "Dominus, I am confused. Are you trying to insinuate that I, a mere woman, served in the legions an no one noticed? Or that I am actually a man in disguise? Because I am willing to show you my breasts if it's the latter. No cock and balls attached." @Sara
  24. His slave seemed elated at her new task, which was certainly a plus. Whether that was due to genuine fondness for children or to some misguided mental sandcastle remained to be seen, but Titus reckoned he'd find out within the next few weeks if she didn't screw it up. However, he needed to lay down some ground rules before she got too excited. "Good. I like your enthusiasm. You're going to need all of it, Valeriana's got a lot of energy." Understatement of the year, Titus. "Please try to keep her away from your domina's cosmetics, will you?" The bloody things were far too expensive for a three-year-old to be getting her hands, mouth, nose, basically her whole face, on them. "There's two things you need to keep in mind, though." Titus held up two fingers to make sure the girl was following. "First: you're not allowed to take her out of the house. I don't trust you not to get lost." If she was indeed just getting lost and not going on reconnaissance missions whilst planning an escape... Not to mention the oddballs or criminals they could come across with ideas of theft, kidnapping or worse. The dangers were simply too great. "Second: dim Brittonig. Dim ond Lladin1." Titus was no longer as fluent as he'd once been, but he still managed a simple phrase like that. Even if Nymphias spoke another dialect, she should be able to understand him just fine and realise how serious he was about it. There would be no room for misunderstandings - the gods knew his daughter had no need to learn yet another pig language, thank you very much. "Don't worry about how well or badly you speak it, she's got other people to learn from. But don't let me catch you speaking to Valeriana in any other language than Latin, all right?" Verbalising an eventual punishment was hardly worth it; the slave would have already learned it was implied if orders were not correctly followed. Now that the Briton knew exactly what not to do, Titus allowed himself to relax a little and indulge his curiosity; he knew practically nothing of Nymphias but her name, origin, and that she was a relatively fresh catch - part of the reason why she had been so cheap, as his secretary had gleefully informed him. "Were you learning from a midwife?" Those would have been skills worth developing, even in Rome. "Or just looking after your siblings?" _________ 1 - 'No Brittonic. Only Latin.' in Welsh @Beauty
  25. Sharpie

    Attis

    Attis 28 | 9th May 46 | Slave | Body Slave | Bi | Wanted | Anthony Higgins Personality. Attis is generally a light-hearted person, who has that most valuable of traits for a slave: he knows when to keep his mouth shut. He can talk a fair amount when allowed, but he'll actually say very little. He does feel things deeply, but rarely lets on to anyone. The person he is closest to, after all, is his owner, who wouldn't appreciate his slave leaking emotions everywhere, and Attis himself just thinks emotions are messy things best left to women and poets. Part of his defence is his humour, which his master indulges (or at least, doesn't get too angry about when Attis opens his mouth without necessarily engaging his brain first). He does generally rein it in, especially when his master is obviously not in the mood to indulge him in his banter. In his work and personal habits, he is neat and meticulous, traits which are on the face of it somewhat at odds with his overall light-hearted personality, but which traits are the result of an upbringing as a slave. He is not a shirker, although he has been found standing chatting on more than one occasion, but he does not have to be driven in order to get any work out of him. He is observant, with the intelligence to know what is worth paying attention to, and the ability to be silent and blend in as just another slave, if doing so will be to his or his master's advantage - he is well aware of the propensity free Romans have for not paying any attention to their slaves and often not even remembering they are present unless they are required to fetch, carry or hold something or clear someone else's mess up. His quick wit and habit of observation have led to his almost being able to anticipate what his master will want before he's told, which has meant that he's been accused of mind-reading on more than one occasion (usually by far less observant slaves, or free men who wish their slaves would just pay attention). Appearance Attis is shorter than his master, and in overall appearance, he is average in all ways: he stands an average of five feet six inches tall, has the olive skin and dark hair or the native Italian, is neither fat nor overly thin. He is slender, with a body that is muscled from work. He has a scar on his forehead from an encounter with a sword during the civil war - soldiers from one side or another came to the house after the family fled. It is his one real distinguishing feature, and he does occasionally let his hair grow out enough that his fringe hides it to some extent. Apart from that, he just has the usual collection of small scars that any boy collects during childhood. He has a round face with dark eyes and dark hair that is too fine to really do anything with unless it is kept short. He wears the clothes he is given; generally knee-length tunics in dark colours, occasionally with braiding or trim to mark him as a higher-status slave of a high-ranking officer. When it's cold or wet (weather he has grown resigned to since his master has spent several years in Britannia, which is the back of beyond), he adds a woollen cloak over the top. When he is not smiling or laughing (which is a fair amount of time), he has a tendency to look blank, bored or spectacularly unimpressed. He has even, on occasion, been told off for looking supremely irritated when he was doing nothing more than thinking. Family Father: Arruns (deceased) Mother: Lydia (deceased) Siblings: Marcipor (older brother, whereabouts unknown); Merula (younger sister, whereabouts unknown) Spouse: An on-again, off-again relationship with Metella (the nurse to the young mistress, Cassia Antonilla). Attis would like to take it further and marry her (as much as slaves can marry, anyway) except she is happy to be friends-with-benefits so he pretends he is, too. He has also been known to spend the night with Vitus (what? it was cold, the man's not bad-looking, they weren't that loud, honest!) Children: None known, definitely none admitted to Extended family: Lucius Cassius Longinus (Master), Livia Vicana (the master's mother), Ismene (AKA 'that bitch'; body slave to Livia Vicana) Other: History May 46AD: Born to slaves Arruns and Lydia 56AD: Sold to the family of senator Lucius Cassius Longinus 62AD: Lucius Cassius Longinus dies, his son (of the same name) becomes paterfamilias. Attis is left behind in Italy when Livia Vicana flees to Greece during the civil war. 64AD: Lucius Cassius Longinus (the younger) returns from Britannia and is elected quaestor. This has little effect on Attis' daily life apart from the fact that there are visitors to the house every day who just make more work, cleaning up after them. 65AD: Becomes body slave to Lucius Cassius Longinus (the senator's son) 66AD: The mistress gives birth to a daughter. The master rejoins the army, and is appointed Legate. His previous body slave is given his freedom and a small cottage somewhere on the family's country estate, and Attis is promoted into his place (much to everyone's shock.) He is taken to Britannia when Longinus returns there as Legate. Attis rapidly comes to the conclusion he does not like sea travel, and Britannia is a cold wet damp place full of nothing. 72AD: Lucius Cassius Longinus returns to Rome, bringing his body slave with him. Attis' opinion of Italy is now that it is a bright dry hot place full of yelling people who have no clue about anything other than stuffing their faces. 74AD: The mistress dies, leaving behind an eight-year-old daughter and a distraught husband Sharpie | GMT | Discord (#4424) or PM
  26. @Sara I love both of those ideas, they're great! I'll be hitting you up on Discord late tonight!
  1. Load more activity
×
×
  • Create New...