Sarah

I'm not so sure. Spurius didn't smile, but the tone of thought was there. Many captured slaves expressed the desire for freedom, to return to their previous lives. But he suspected that a number of them at least came to appreciate the comfort and stability of their new lives, assuming that they had good owners. Or maybe he was reading too much into her words. Maybe she simply didn't think she would ever be freed, and that was certainly a reasonable suspicion. Slaves were useful and people rarely did free them. But it happened. I still hope. Don't we all, he thought. And that was all that kept some going. Others it was stubborness; he didn't know what he hoped for any more. But despite the irritating beginning and the tone of the conversation, this had been an interesting interlude. "I won't keep you from your mistress or your duties any longer, but it's been interesting talking to you." He admitted, giving Cynane a thoughtful look. "You've changed my view on yourself and some of your countrymen." And after several years, that was something in itself. She'd given him things to think about. @Atrice

Early March 77AD Lucius was stalking the Emporium Magnum with a particular goal in mind; he wanted to purchase a particular kind of good. A slave, to be precise. And not just any slave, he wanted a bodyguard for his sister. He'd seen the way her current guard didn't suit her, and just like their father, he wanted her to be safe. Unlike their father, he felt he cared a little more about her tastes, or at least about the kind of slave that was suitable for her. Hopefully their father wouldn't object too much. It needed to be someone who could fight, first and foremost. And it needed to be someone who looked intimidating. Not too old, still in good condition. Not too young either, nor too attractive. None of the men of the family wanted Ovinia getting distracted by her slaves. As an officer in the legions and someone who had been to the provinces and seen some action, he felt that he should be able to judge at least some of those traits. Part of the Emporium Magnum was busy with slave traders displaying their wares, and Lucius stalked amongst them, running his gaze down row after row of enslaved humanity, looking for a likely candidate. Every so often he stopped and spoke with one of the traders about a slave that caught his eye, but each time he moved on. None of them seemed quite right. She did already have a guard, so it wasn't as though he needed to just pick any that might do. Along the next row, one caught his eye. His initial thought was ugly, noting the complex blue tattoos and half-shaven head, but he paused and looked more carefully. There were scars, quite a lot of them. The pale hair colour and tattoos were exotic; they reminded him of the Amazon-like bodyguard with the Imperial princess he'd seen once when her entourage had crossed his path. A bit of a clean and this fellow could look more exotic than nasty too, and Ovinia did appreciate interesting things. And the scars looked like battle wounds... "This one." He said to the slaver, pointing at Caturix. "What's his history?" @Faustus

On impulse she reached out an squeezed the big man's hand gently. "I'm sorry Alexius. I wish I had an easier answer for you." She said with genuine sympathy. Whilst she didn't think she was one to enjoy the same lifestyle, she never liked to see someone sad, and had a mother's urge to fix things. But then if there was an easier answer he'd no doubt have found it by now. At least he was honest about it, rather than marrying a woman and then sleeping around. As for her life? "I can honestly say that I'm very pleased." She said, with a genuine smile. "For the first time since I was a girl, I'm free. I have my beloved son back, and we're living in our own home." She gestured around her, as though the three room insula was a grand domus. Perhaps the secret to happiness was not having what you wanted, but wanting what you had. "It's more than I've had for most of my life." She paused as it occured to her that he might not have all the story. "I assume you know I was a slave." It was obvious to her, but perhaps not to everyone else. But she wasn't shy about it, just very, very glad that it was over. @Atrice

Tiberius was thoughtful. He'd only been taught how to ride horses, not how to train them. He was an Imperial, training them was left for others. But the way that Ignis responded to Jason's simple actions - and whatever he was saying - spoke volumes. He was also seeing parallels between the horse and certain other creatures in his possession. In his care. It very quickly became clear that Jason knew far more about horses than Tiberius did, which was what he'd both expected and hoped, given his earlier assertion. And so the young Imperial listened and watched carefully, giving Jason his full attention. Though is body slave was no doubt aware that Tiberius rarely did anything thoughtlessly or with less than full deliberation. You want to make it easy for him, pleasant for him, to give you what you want. "Do you think Ignis is afraid of us, or what we might do?" He asked quietly, watching the horse. He was high spirited, that much was obvious. And if he was afraid, perhaps his high spirits caused him to fight, to attempt to flee. A more cowed animal might cower obediently instead, but he could see what Jason said in that one would never get the same enthusiasm of cooperation unless the horse wanted to do what was asked of it. Rather like people really. Jason glanced at him, and for a moment the two young men's gazes met. It was a rare instance, Tiberius recalled Jason's gaze as usually downcast. But this horse had suddenly turned the tables on them, and Jason was the expert. Then he did something Tiberius didn't think he'd ever recalled the man doing; he made a direct request. Give me a month. Tiberius looked from the chestnut stallion - who was looking more relaxed than he thought he'd ever seen him - to his body slave, who was looking much the same. And he gave an odd little smile. "Granted, on the proviso that you teach me too." He clearly had a lot to learn about horses, and perhaps about people. Copying Jason's earlier gesture, Tiberius slowly held out a hand towards the horse's nose. @Sharpie

March 77AD The year was beginning to warm, and that put a spring in Varinia's step as well as in the year. She'd thrown open the windows of their little insula apartment and washed and hung the blankets out of them to air and dry. Next she was going to go through everyone's clothes and find what needed mending, or replacing. Then she would consider what else their little household might need. Teutus had told her that she could buy whatever she wanted, but she was determined to be careful with their funds, and acquired what they needed as they needed it. But now at least she could afford better quality goods. Varinia stood out amongst the Romans. Dressed in a rich, brown chiton that matched her wavy hair, carefully coifed by Prosperpina, and a pale blue palla that brought out the grey in her eyes, she might dress like a Roman woman, but she was too tall and too pale to be anything but barbarian stock. Jannus, she'd noted, seemed to have similar heritage, and a Roman might have mistaken them for mother and son. She hadn't really had much of a chance to talk to the young slave; he shared Teutus's room unlike the little boy Amandus who shared hers along with Proserpina. Poor old Olipor slept in the main room. It felt odd, having been a slave and now keeping them, and Varinia tended to treat them more like family; like the children and grumpy old uncle she'd never had. Perhaps she'd have to make time to sit down with each of them. First however, she needed to shop for food. And for a very special collection. She'd spent much of the winter spinning fleece, and now the loom that she had ordered was ready to be picked up. Varinia had to admit that she was quite excited. She'd always spun for her domina as a slave, but it was only her last mistress who had taught her to weave. Now she was free and, as the woman managing the household, it was her duty to see them properly clothed. And would she ever. She'd already dyed some of the spun wool and planned out the fancy weaving she was going to do for Teutus's new tunica; then she'd see to the rest of them. There were six of them crowded into the three rooms of the insula, but Varinia was loving her new life. Teutus made mention of the idea of getting a bigger place every so often and she wouldn't mind that, but she was in no hurry. She didn't ask for much and, for the first time in her life, she was getting more than what she asked for. She had however asked to borrow Jannus for the day; she needed someone to help carry the loom home. @Insignia

It was true. The lanista would probably try anything once, if it had novelty and the chance of catching people's attention. And if the mixed teams did prove to be the next popular thing, that could go very well for them. It could be an opportunity for some of the gladiatrices to gain more prestige. The were generally seen as a novelty, not taken seriously, but as part of a team they'd be taken more seriously, especially when they proved they could hold their own. Aeneas had no illusions about women who could fight. And any man who could work well in such a team would not be worth risking in poor odds combat. It would work very well for both of them. "Tis settled thain. I'll speak wi' the lanista, if yer'll work wi' me tae form a team tae show him whit I mean." Give some form of demonstration. They'd need at least one more team, of course. Cynane served as a bodyguard now, but he wondered whether her mistress might be persuaded to allow her back for something special. She was the only other gladiatrix he knew more than passingly. "So whit else haes been happenin' 'round here?" He asked, considering that matter settled for the moment. "Ocht I shuid ken?" Then he blinked, ran his words back through his mind, and cursed under his breath in Gaelic. "Anythin' I shuid knoo?" He tried again. @Chevi

You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. It was an easy comment, an aphorism repeated so often that one didn't really hear the words any more, and yet there was something in the way that Jason said it, or perhaps in the way that his thoughts were running, that made it echo in Tiberius's ears with the the impact of the voices of the Gods. Jason was talking about the horse - probably - but his master heard it with far wider relevance. You can teach them almost anything, if they trust you. Perhaps the impulse to come to the stables had been guided by something more than just his own fancy. But even as parts of his mind wanted to whir off into wild philosophy, Tiberius grounded his attention on Jason and Ignis. The horse was known for fighting his handlers and generally being a pain in the posterior, but Jason's gentle approach and what Tiberius assumed were words of encouragement seemed to be accepted far more graciously. He watched what his slave was doing; feeding the horse whenever it did what he wanted, rather than whipping it when it didn't, which was what many would do. Honey and vinegar. "So you're rewarding the good behaviour, rather than punishing the bad." He voiced his thoughts. Which made sense. "Is there ever a situation where you would punish a horse?" He was of course looking at the situation from a very Roman point of view, but he wanted to learn, was trying to understand. The Sarmatians were expert horse people, and assuming that his slave wasn't lying to him, Jason's advice had to be the better road. @Sharpie

@Insignia That works. Or, as Sharpie suggests, perhaps Varinia has borrowed Jannus for the day to help get things from the market? Then they have no need to rush.

Somehow having Marcus here, grinning and cheerful, and sharing that celebratory drink, made it all seem real. There'd been a lot of planning, and his few things had been moved in this morning, but now that his friend was here the villa felt alive. Perhaps it would become even more so over time. "By all means." Tiberius agreed to Marcus's desire to look around. He'd at least been there before, he wasn't sure if his friend had. Gesturing towards the main rear portico with his cup, he set foot in that direction. "It's furnished, but if there's something particular you want, just ask a slave and I dare say they'll be able to find something in storage." Within reason of course, but he trusted Marcus to be reasonable about it. Certainly Tiberius had no wish to give Titus any reason to regret this freedom. The best meetings and the best parties. Tiberius snorted, amused. Trust Marcus to be planning their social calendar already. And indeed he would trust Marcus to plan their social calendar. "Whatever needs fixing up will be dealt with. The villa's not been used much the last few years." He didn't think Drusilla favoured it particularly. "Just remember that it's still an Imperial residence. What we do here reflects on Titus, and he can recall me to the palace." He knew he was being the boring and monotonous voice of reason, but someone had to be. "But yes, we absolutely can hold events here. In fact, I wanted to ask you who to invite for a specific event." As he spoke they wound their way through the Villa's peristyle around the inner courtyard with it's pools and manicured trees, and into the western wing of the building. @Atrice

He hadn't spoken to her dominus about her bruising, heeding Ione's obvious distress at the thought of the man's reaction. There was always more than one way to achieve something in business, and Spurius firmly believed that the opportunity would present itself, if he kept a watchful eye and open mind for it. At least there hadn't been a repeat of the incident; he'd barely seen Ione in the last three weeks but from what Corva and Linus had told him, she'd arrived fresh and unmarked to their eyes, and according to the twins, without any marks elsewhere either. Which was good. Perhaps he need not say anything at all. She simply became part of the weekly routine, and that was that. Until, four weeks after the bruising incident, he heard quiet steps stop outside the door of his tablinum whilst he worked. He wasn't in a particularly good mood, not through anyone else's influence but because his leg was playing up. His right foot rested on the little stood he'd previously bidden Ione sit on, his leg stretched out to it's full extent to stretch the injured muscles. They tended to cramp and seize when over-used, and stubborness goaded him to periodically test that limit. Which he then paid for. None of which was Ione's fault. She was well behaved, rarely disturbing him and when she did it was with something that she at least thought was important. So he took a deep breath, set his stylus aside and turned to look over his shoulder. "You may." He gestured for her to enter the tablinium, setting his right foot down and turning his chair away from his desk so that he could look at her more fully. But his leg was hurting, so he hooked the stool out from under the desk and set his foot back up on it. It wasn't a cure but it was better than nothing. Then he looked at her expectantly. @Sara

@Sharpie That would make things very interesting! Certainly something to work through. More than happy to have them be not-friends if that makes more sense. Or Gaius could recruit Lucius to change Ovinia's mind, if he thought it could be changed. I'm just looking for interactions with his peers.

@Insignia Giving Jannus a message would be easy, but it could also be something as simple as a conversation during the household's morning routine. Or maybe Jannus pops back in to get something for Teutus and Varinia is there?

"No fear. Father would lynch me himself." Or any of the Praetor's sons who might dare to think about going into the performing arts. Or daughter, for that matter. But that didn't stop him subjecting his sister to his terrible sense of humour. Ah yes, the kitchen fire. Probably the less said about that the better at the moment. "Contrive to have them complain about the new fire in father's hearing. I dare say that he will ensure that it will handle chicken." He grinned. Either by arranging for a larger cookery, or by virtue of yelling at the slaves until they did it. There was more than one way to get what you wanted and arguing with the slaves was a very inefficient one. But Lucius himself wasn't a shouter except where the parade ground required it, and lacked the gravitas of their fater familias in this household. "I'm sure whatever it is will be delicious." The truth was he was ravenous and it had to be better than what they had on the march on campaign. As he followed Ovinia at her command, he wondered whether his sister realised that she had a little of their father's presence, when she was feeling confident. Negotiating his lanky frame through the gardens, hobnailed sandles clicking on the paving stones, slipping into the triclinium behind her and flopping bonelessly onto one of the other couches. It was markedly peaceful and comfortable, with just the two of them. "Excitement, excitement... hmm." He pretended to think seriously, staring at the ceiling whilst the slave poured the wine. "Well, there's the parchmentwork, and... more parchmentwork, and ordering supplies for the unit. Then we did some marching drills... and some horseback drills... and I picked the burrs out of the horse hair on my helmet..." He grinned across at her. "No, I tell a lie, I got a slave to do that." He rearranged himself into a more proper pose on the couch and picked up his cup of wine, thinking about what might actually interest Ovinia. It was true that it had been weeks since they'd really had a chance to speak. She probably didn't want to just listen to him drivel. "We're still finalising some of the reporting from our time in Hispania." Which was probably boring in itself. The unit was refreshing and retraining; retirees passing out and new recruits passing in. He didn't know whether his Legate would continue in the position or not. "It's a beautiful place. Hot and sunny, and the people are lively and friendly." Particularly some of the young women, when you were a young Roman man from a Wealthy Patrician family. "I spoke to father briefly about possibly acquiring some land there. It's excellent olive country." And the Empire all but ran on olive oil, for all that it wasn't as sexy as gold or jewels. "And a villa there might suit mother as a respite." "What about you? Apart from arguing with the slaves about the kitchen, what have you been up to?" @Sara

Hi @Sharpie! I was wondering whether Gaius Vipsanius Roscius might be a potential friend for my Lucius Ovinius Camillus ? Lucius is a few years younger than your fellow and he's the middle brother, having an older brother, also called Gaius, who might also be known to yours. Lucius is serving his term in the military but is currently in Rome.

Hi @Kah! I was wondering whether you might be interested in a thread with Bestia and one of my characters? She might encounter Aeneas whilst he's out in the city, perhaps exercising or on an errand. He's a slave from Britannia and currently based at the Ludus Magnum. Or she might encounter either my slave trader Spurius or my Freedwoman Varinia whilst she's out in the markets.

Hi @Insignia! Would you be interested in a thread between Jannus and Teutus's mother, Varinia? Varinia was a slave, and Teutus purchased her at the same time as Jannus, and then freed her. She's the type of woman who will mother anyone, but she's now free and he's still a slave, so a couple of possible angles there.

She agreed that the scar would fade, but the tension in her hands where they bunched in the fabric of her tunic was obvious. No doubt the knew the fate of a whore who became too marked or damaged to be attractive to even the customers of the Elysium. Though he was of the opinion that a woman would have to be very damaged indeed to fall below their standards. He thought he'd be doing her a favour by speaking to her dominus about preserving her condition, so her reaction, her over-reaction, surprised him. Quite apart from the fact that she'd spoken when not spoken to - apart from his question about her dominus's name - he obviously had underestimated how cruel the man was to his slaves. Perhaps that was because he usually dealt with a higher class of customer. She stepped forward, perhaps to kneel or something, he wasn't certain, and nearly fell, grasping her side. Definitely bruised ribs, possibly broken. Dark blue eyes looked up at him beseechingly, as though she might cry at any moment. How did he end up with another man's slave, all but begging, almost on his floor? He caught her shoulders gently before she did fall, and hooked a foot-stool under the desk with his toe, dragging it out next to her. He used it to rest his foot on when his leg was playing up. "Sit down before you fall down." He told her firmly. She could be pretty, if she was fed and wasn't beaten. And whilst he seemed to periodically ask himself why he was doing business with the Elysium, he still maintained that his instinct in hiring Ione from that establishment had not been incorrect. Spurius prided himself on his judgement of people, and she'd fit in well in her time in the household. The real problem was her dominus. The notion of simply offering to buy her had crossed his mind; he had wanted a younger woman for the household to help Corva who was getting arthritic, and Tacita hadn't worked out due to her mutism. But he could get himself an un-abused young woman from amongst his own stock easily. He didn't need to buy a beaten-up whore. "You don't need to wear make-up." He said again. "I am not unhappy with you." Slaves needed surety, he knew that. "But do not presume to tell me how to conduct my business dealings." He added, this time far more firmly. Then his tone softened again. "There are ways to re-arrange a situation without making a complaint." And he was well versed in them. Not that he needed to explain his business techniques to her. Still, perhaps it would be best to let things settle, let the bruises fade, and think about whether he really wanted to involve himself further with that brothel owner. He could always take his business elsewhere. "Go back upstairs. Find a bed and have a rest. Your guard isn't back yet." Was this arrangement about to become more trouble than it was worth, he wondered? "And here." He reached into his pouch and pulled out a small coin, a sestertius. "Get yourself a new lamp or something." After all, she'd served them well and he'd tipped her guard. @Sara

His head whipped around at the voice at his doorway, and Lucius gave his sister a lop-sided smile. "Well, you know, I didn't fancy what they were serving for dinner at the barracks." He said mock-offhandedly, catching her in a warm if clanking hug as she wrapped her arms around him. He'd always been taller than her, and always would be, but she wasn't the tiny thing he remembered from their youth. She was a woman grown. And he was supposedly a man grown. Not that that meant he had any real sovereignty, not with his father at the family's helm. "Give me a moment to get out of all of this." He half-begged, and continued unlacing the metal plates and leather under-vest, with the help of the slave who served him as body slave when he was home. Unbuckling his greaves, he listened as Ovinia rattled off where the various members of the family were, for a moment glad that he didn't have to go to the political dinner, even if the food would have been good. Tertius was the wild child, sort of expected for the third son, and mother was... mother. He'd made offerings to Asclepius in the hope he might help her. The red tunic of the legions was both broader and longer than a standard civilian tunic, giving more protection to the arms and legs from both the sun and the amour that they wore. One he was down to that Lucius ran an idle hand through his hair, turning the flattened effect from his helmet into shaggy spikes. "I don't know, you look a bit under-cooked." He said, eyeing her up and down. It was good to see Ovinia smile. She'd not seemed her usual self after the attack, and he worried about her. Like he worried about their mother. He just wasn't sure what he could do about it. "Dinner for two sounds markedly better than suffering my own company." He assured her cheerily. In fact it sounded wonderful. Time to chat with his favourite sister - just because she was the only, didn't automatically make her the favourite - and not have to mind himself around their terribly important and serious father or older brother. Who were no doubt doing terribly important and serious things, for the good of the family and the Empire. "What are we having?" @Sara

As though summoned by the speaking of his name, the front door of the domus opened and Ovinia's middle brother appeared, the steel plates of his lorica segmentata gleaming and his helmet under his arm. Tall but slim, heart-faced and long-limbed, Lucius looked much like his sister and their mother, rather than their father, and perhaps least like an obvious soldier. Someone with his build should be a scholar or philosopher if they followed stereotypes, but that was not the path that had been put in front of him. And despite not being of herculean proportions, Lucius had survived his military service thus far, and acquitted himself well enough as military tribune. It had been six years between Lucius's departure for Hispania with his Legate, and his return to Rome at the end of last year. A lot had changed, including him. He'd filled out somewhat, perhaps aided by the armour he wore, and he'd grown in confidence. He'd also seen parts of the Empire, and what life could be like in another household. And things had changed here. Gaius Minor's new wife had moved in, and their mother had grown ill, often taking to her bed for extended periods. And somewhere in there, his kid sister had grown up. Now she virtually ran the household. All of which meant that settling back into the household hadn't been as easy as he might have hoped. Gaius Major, whom he respected as father and head of the household, never the less acted as though Lucius had never been away. Then there had been the disappointment over his failure to achieve the position of Quaestor in his year - part of the reason he'd come back to Rome with his Legate. So he was still serving as a tribune, all of which meant that he spent a lot of time at the barracks or his Legate's household. But, the dutiful son, he also came home. "Are my father and brothers home?" He asked the slave who'd opened the door. No dominos, only domina Matia and domina Ovinia, the slave told him quietly. Lucius nodded, and let out a breath. "Please let my sister know that I am home." He said simply, before heading to his room, intending to get out of all his armour and into a lighter tunica. He unthinkingly handed his helmet to the next slave he encountered and headed further into the domus. His room was the same room he'd always had, but now there were no toys, only a small desk with his writing materials, wax tablet, and a couple of chests that held clothes and his few personal possessions. @Sara

With friends from my insula. The phrase sounded warm, cosy. More fun than him. Perhaps Theodorus would be generous enough to consider him good, or at least passable, company. "I don't gamble as a rule, unless I can't gracefully avoid it." Spurius answered his friend's question. "I'm afraid I'm a grumpy old bastard and generally boring as sod, but I'm prepared to make an exception tonight." He smirked at Theo. Why not? It had been several years now since he'd returned to Rome injured, and he'd done well for himself. He couldn't sulk forever. Well, he could, but it was starting to seem like a waste. Perhaps his humours were starting to right themselves at last. "I guess like yourself I tend to be more of a spectator." He admitted. "Perhaps we can find somewhere to eat, drink and watch people." At least they could amuse themselves that way, unless they say something that looked more interesting. @Chevi

Marcus's youthful enthusiasm was delightful. He was younger even than her son and had that appreciation of things that suggested he'd seen nothing yet to sour his view of the world. It was something she could enjoy vicariously. Certainly he seemed to throw himself into things, including grabbing her by the hand, and ordering a jar of wine with the meal. "It is, though I won't promise to drink all of my share." She replied, amused. Then again, what harm if she did get drunk, this one night of the year. She'd done it before. But she found being pleasantly tipsy preferable to completely plastered. Retaining at least some of her faculties and self control meant that she was both more likely to enjoy the evening, and to remember it. "So tell me, Marcus who has a friend at the Palace; surely you have other friends that you could spend the evening with?" She suggested gently. Not that she minded his company, but she was old enough to be his mother. Would he not find her boring? @Atrice

Hi @Faustus! I'm definitely up for some threads. Gaius and Spurius seem like an obvious combination; both pleb and veterans. There's a few characters about their age who served in the Legions, I swear we need a Roman RSL (Returned Serviceman's League). Spurius trades slaves in the Emporium Magnum and is around there a lot, so that might be an obvious place. Gaius and Tiberius could encounter each other at random. Tiberius is interested in people who can provide him with different points of view on the Empire and her people, so there might be an option there. He has moved out of the palace and into the Villa Sullusti (which is still an Imperial residence) and is forming his own household, so there's potential for a guard. For Gaius and Varinia, she only had the one child, Teutus, when she was quite young, who she's now living with, so there aren't any others to find. Again they could meet at the markets. She's newly freed and enjoying exploring being free so is generally happy to chat to most people.

LUCIUS OVINIUS CAMILLUS 29 | 15 February 48 | Senatore | Military Tribune | Heterosexual | Wanted | Ido Drent Personality Perhaps the most laid back member of the family - though all things are relative - Lucius is easygoing and affable, the kind of person who far prefers to make friends than enemies. As the middle son he had neither the pressure placed upon Gaius Minor, nor the doting attention that was on Tertius, and he was content with this. Comfortable in his place but often left to his own devices, he has grown to be a confident and independent young man. He tends to follow his own judgement rather than the pressure from others where they differ, but if he doesn't feel strongly one way or the other he is happy to go with the flow. He is aware of his father and brother's ambitions, but doesn't believe that politics are the only path in life worth exploring. Lucius respects his father and older brother and dotes on his younger brother and sister. He also worries about their mother's failing health, but doesn't know what he can do about it. Appearance Lucius is tall and slim, though time in armour has put muscle on his rangy frame. His hair is mid brown and straight, and he has a rich tan that belies his Hispanic heritage through his mother. Hazel eyes are set in a heart-shaped face, perhaps most like his sister, save that he has the harder jawline and sharper cheekbones of a man. He dresses well as befits his station, but not gaudily, having an appreciation of the finer things in life without excess. Somehow though his hair always seems to be a bit scruffy. Family Father: Gaius Ovinius Camillus Mother: Matia Tetulliana Siblings: Gaius Ovinius Camillus Minor, Ovinia Camilla, Tertius Ovinius Camillus Spouse: None Children: None Extended family: Viria Saena (sister-in-law, married to Gaius, born 52AD) Lucius Ovinius Camillus (nephew, son of Gaius, born 75AD) Other: None History 48AD Lucius Ovinius Camillus is born to Gaius Ovinius Camillus and Matia Tetulliana, their second son. If Gaius is the heir, Lucius is the spare, the welcome insurance against disaster and the fulfillment of the need to ensure his father's line, born only two years after his brother. For the next four years it was just the two boys, and Lucius followed Gaius Minor everywhere, all but worhshipping his older brother, and the ease of teaching him alongside his brother was welcomed. 52AD Tertius is born, and their mother's attention is focused more on their younger brother, so the boys turn their attentions more to their father. They are close and play together whenever they are not having lessons or otherwise being wrangled, with Gaius the ringleader and Lucius happy to follow his lead. 57AD Ovinia is born. The youngest of the brood and the only girl, once Ovinia is big enough to be around by her older brothers she becomes somewhere between a doll and a pet for them. Lucius particularly tends to carry her about, because he's strong enough and it keeps her quiet whilst Gaius has his lessons. 62AD (December): The purges begin and Lucius’s paternal grandfather and namesake is killed, alongside his maternal grandparents. Their father shepherds his family to Greece whilst he goes to Antioch with the Senate in exile. The family will not return to Rome until 64AD. 66AD Lucius is accepted to the Vigintiviri, before becoming a Military Tribune in 68AD, as per the standard progression of the Cursus Honorum, following in his brother Gaius Minor's footsteps and their father's teaching and encouragement. Initially he serves close to home, but in 70AD Gaius Minor marries and shortly thereafter Lucius's military service takes him off to Hispania, a long way from home. He misses his brothers and baby sister, but at the same time enjoys the freedoms of being away from his father's household and guidance. It's his first real opportunity to explore who he is in himself, rather than simply the second son of Gaius Ovinius Camillus. He keeps contact with his family by writing, dutiful letters to his father and missives with idle gossip and observations to his siblings. in 71AD Ovinia writes to tell him of their mother's illness, and keeps him updated on the family's travels to their estate and back to Rome, along with their mother's relapses. It is clear from her writing that Ovinia herself is taking on more of their mother's duties in the household, and he wonders how she gets on with Viria Saena. At some point Ovinia would have to marry, and it was Gaius who would inherit the Domus. Time would work that one out. At the end of 76AD Lucius returns to Rome from Hispania with his Legate and finds himself once more in his father's house. Sarah | AEST (GMT+10) | Discord

"Didia." He echoed in turn, and she confirmed that he'd recalled her father correctly. She was named according to standard practice, though she claimed it wasn't very imaginative. "Evidence of a proud father." He countered. Certainly it made her parentage clear. She detailed what vegetables were available and it sounded as though he'd be able to get a good mix of simple produce at a reasonable price. Still, when Didia flourished the lumpy, green... produce in front of him, he regarded it somewhat dubiously. Then he shrugged. "I'm sure they will. They'll eat what they're given." Or they went hungry. But salad leaves were healthful and he could almost convince himself that it looked like condensed leaves. He might even try some at his household, since it had novelty. "If you can provide a good quantity of cheap vegetables weekly - whatever is in season - then I'll make it a standing order." He named an amount; whatever he could get for that. @Sara

I'm sorry he did that. A good physique isn't everything. "No, but it means a lot to some." He said gruffly, a little surprised at her sympathy. He was so used to trading in Britannic slaves who barely spoke any Latin and just went where you pointed, that he didn't think he'd ever really had a conversation with one. But clearly Cynane had been here for some time and adapted, though never forgiven. He couldn't blame her for that, he hadn't either. The Patricians did benefit from much; that was how society was arranged. But he couldn't really complain of that himself; apart from the injury he'd done well. Food arrived, and they each picked up their bowls and ate, and he nodded quietly as she thanked him. Food fixed a lot of things, especially good food. People always felt better with a full stomach, including himself. "You're welcome." He said at length. "Thank you for your assistance." It didn't take him long to clean out his bowl, and he set it aside. "I guess over time I've learned to use and appreciate what I do have. You're right, freedom is something, and for all that I lost I still have mine. Perhaps you'll win yours in time." He said in a gentler tone. In the meantime there were far worse places to be a slave than the palace. @Atrice