Sarah

It was rare to have this kind of conversation with someone; especially with a stranger. It had been rare for Varinia to have any kind of meaningful conversation with anyone other than a fellow slave for most of her life. Conversations with her masters and their families had been blunt and to the point. Perhaps that was some of what now made her blunt and to the point, if nicer about it. But the opportunity to have these more meaningful conversations was something of a revelation; and she was enjoying it. I know one who does… she’s one of a kind. Varinia imagined that she would be, though perhaps not as rare as he thought. There might well be other women who would like such a lifestyle, but Roman society was hardly supportive of such. Alexius tried to explain the struggles he had faced, detailing a previous arrangement that had failed. She supposed, given that societal expectations were of hetersexual couples with the man possibly having some slave dalliance on the side, that he was walking uncharted territory. And the problem there was that you had to make all your own mistakes. I’m sorry, I’m a fool with words. I’m better at showing than telling. Did he... just proposition her? She wasn't sure. The way he suddenly looked at her and grinned. He was handsome enough in his own way, but though she was deliberately trying not to be judgemental, she wasn't certain herself what she thought of his lifestyle. Even as she looked at him, the image of Tertius as she remembered him floated in her minds eye; she had unfinished business, before she considered anyone else. "You're not a fool Alexius, I think you've explained the problem quite clearly." She assured him. "This one lady you know who shares your preferences sounds like she might be ideal." If she was interested in a stronger relationship with him. "But I think you should consider that Roman society doesn't support women to 'sleep around', for want of a better way of putting it. We are financially beholden to our menfolk, who generally expect fidelity." Which meant that in order to have a home and a comfortable life, women had to live as they were expected to. "I guess what I'm saying is that there might be more women out there who would like to live as you do, if they could. And if you could provide the financial security they need through marriage, then one might be very happy with that arrangement." And the sudden freedom it would entail. "But Alexius, make sure she'd be happy with it, before you make anything permanent. Or you'll end up in the same situation as last time." Where she'd wanted the financial security of her higher class husband. @Atrice

We put on a good show. And that was what it was all about, wasn't it? Romans just wanted entertaining. Death was apparently entertaining, especially if it was gruesome, but they'd accept other forms as well. Novelty and things that challenged the social norms - like women fighting - were acceptable alternatives, providing that they didn't challenge those norms in ways that could extend into the rest of their carefully ordered society. Discrete patches of disorder, like their Saturnalia festival, and rigid order the rest of the time. Strange people. As he pondered the fight Thessala had described, his mind shifted the two opponents to one side, and matched them. Then he tried to describe what he saw there to her. She seemed to like the idea. "Do ye think the lanista wuid try it?" There was always a risk in drawning attention to one's self like that. It was how one stood out of course, but one could gain reward or punishment for doing so. He'd not been a gladiator long enough before Claudia decided he should be her bodyguard to earn much of a name for himself. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to change that. "I'll hae a word wi' him." He decided. It was a calculated risk, especially if there was a lull in the season and an opening for something new. But she was right that they'd need new tactics for that kind of combat. "T'wuid be interestin', fer sure." He mused. "Less o' the 'one best fichter' an' more teamwork." Which would mean more training. "If tis popular, a guid mixed team cuid be verra valuable." He pointed out, glancing across at her. The best gladiators were extremely popular, some achieved almost cult status, and some won their freedom. The more valued a fighter was, the better they were treated. And like the best charioteers and their horses, a really good mixed team would be rare and prized. Which would mean better treatment, if it was them. @Chevi

She jumped, obviously not expecting him to touch her, even though it was only a momentary brush of her collarbone, before he let his hand fall. Just enough to confirm that the mark he'd spotted was indeed a fresh scar. Was it an odd reaction, in a prostitute? Anyone might jump if they weren't expected the touch, and her gaze was firmly down. But she'd never seemed particularly suited to her role. He recalled one girl he'd sold to the Domus Venus who'd thanked him profusely when he'd spotted her months later. From beaten house slave to high class whore. But the Elysium was not the Domus Venus; if anything they were at opposite ends of the spectrum. And this girl - she was barely a woman - was stuck at the bottom end of that spectrum. A client who liked to cut the girls, and a brothel owner who let them. Spurius was aware that there were some strange depths of depravity, as well as far too many people with unbridled tempers, and all too often those things found their expression with slaves, those who had no rights of their own. It made him angry, a kind of slow, cold anger that he kept to himself. And it did so because he knew how much restraint cost, and looked down on those who didn't care to exercise it. Because that could have been him, when he'd come back from Britannia crippled and rejected, and he'd made a choice that it would not be. "The scar is not a problem." He told her simply. He'd seen worse - he had worse - and it wouldn't bother the twins. "It will fade." He added, with a touch of compassion. She might well be worried that she'd become too marked for her job, not that it was one she would really want to keep. He assumed it was a measure of security for her, as unpleasant as it was. Security was what most slaves craved. "But I shall speak to your dominus." He really couldn't be sending her up here in this state if he wanted to keep Spurius as a client. "Titus, isn't it?" @Sara

Tiberius was secretly delighted that Marcus so clearly understood. So many people had thought he was mad for wanting to move out of the Imperial Palace, with it's air of grandeur and access to anything one could want. But whilst Tiberius was loyal as ever to his cousin Titus, he felt the need not to live directly in his shadow any more, to find space to find out who he was. And Marcus was, in many ways, in a similar situation. So of course he understood, even if few others did. And they were going to share this adventure. "I did promise." Tiberius confirmed, enjoying watching Marcus's slight shock turn to glee. He did like to see his friend happy. The Villa Sullusti would be a dream come true for both of them. "I might have some idea. Here's to freedom." He raised his wine cup in salute. It was a simple thing, but a huge thing, and he was pleased to do it. Both because of how much he knew it meant to his friend, and because he would have company on this new adventure into independent adulthood. And said the politician's voice in the back of his head because you will have a political ally for life. But that was the voice that had been trained in. They would be allies because they were friends. "I've claimed the master bedroom, but you can have your choice of any of the others. I recommend the west wing; no early morning sun in the window." He winked at Marcus. And of course, being an Imperial residence, the windows were glass rather than hide, so there was a beautiful view to enjoy. @Atrice

Almost as handsome as me. Tiberius smiled a little at Marcus, knowing that his friend was teasing him to cheer him up. He didn't know why the slave girl had cried, and since she'd avoided him he hadn't bothered to try to find out. Perhaps some saw that as spineless, that a true man would pursue her and demand an explanation, but what would that gain? She clearly didn't want him, and he had no insecurity that he needed to prove his dominion over her. "I don't know why she didn't want to kiss me, but there'll be others who will, right?" Oh, if only he knew what the near future would bring. "Much more, eh?" He echoed his friend. Tiberius suspected that might have been the case, but it could also have all been bravado, until Marcus confirmed at least some of his suspicions. Well, why not? He probably should have too, at his age. But he found Marcus's suggestion somewhat daunting. They could just... hire some prostitutes? At the same time it was eminently sensible, if gaining experience was the aim. A prostitute would know what to do and be able to show him, and he'd also heard the name the Domus Venus before. Yes, if he wanted to... gain some experience, that was the logical thing to do. If. Hmm. "I've heard of the Domus Venus." He allowed. But the idea of walking in there and just... paying for sex, gave him pause. "Let me think about it, hmm?" He said. If there was one thing that people noted about Tiberius - and which quite possibly some found annoying - was that he rarely rushed into things, he thought them through. He wasn't an impulsive sort. Usually. Still, he wasn't quite at the point where he'd decided this was something he had to learn now. Perhaps that would change. "Tell me more about what you think we should do for the party." (OOC: Shall we finish this one off?) @Atrice

She was warm, and soft, and she smelled wonderful, the scents of the flowers in her hair mingling with her perfume and that which was uniquely her. Tiberius wasn't an impulsive sort, but once Sosia confirmed that she didn't mind, he found he couldn't regret his actions. Even though he knew he shouldn't have done it. Even though he knew there might be repercussions. But only if someone found out, right? Then she rested her head on his chest, and he found any concerns about being caught fled from his mind. Why should he worry, when it felt so right, having her there. He ran a hand gently down her back, and gave a deep sigh of contentment. I... don't think I would mind, if you did it again. She was looking up at him with those magical dark eyes. The politician in him heard the request that couldn't be voiced. How could he refuse? After all, it was just a kiss? What harm could that ever do. He couldn't help the warm, broad and slightly goofy smile that appeared. "I'd like that." He said quietly, and leaned in to kiss her again. One magic, perfect, stolen moment. @Atrice

Varinia wasn't angry over the differences between how Peregrinus was being treated, and how Teutus had been. What anger, frustration and disappointment she'd had over Teutus's rejection as Tertius's son had burned itself out years ago. Oh she'd felt incredibly betrayed at the time, but overheared heated discussions between Tertius and his father showed her clearly where the blame for that one lay. And in truth, what could she, a slave, ever do about it? She could harbour that anger and let it eat her out from the inside, or she could be glad of the comfortable home she served and her beautiful son, and just accept that life never really gave you what you wanted, so you had to want what you had. No, she hadn't come here to lay blame, or to fight for what could have been. She came here to find out what the future would look like. "I did ask." She agreed evenly, and listened with interest. That fact that he was willing to share his wishes with her was pleasing in itself, and gave her more insight into the man that Tertius had become. He wasn't the monster she'd feared, much more the man she'd once dreamed of. From what he told her he enjoyed his space, and appreciated a relatively independent woman who did the same. Perhaps that was why he had so much difficulty; a young woman straight from her father's household might not be as independent as he liked. It sounded more as though Tertius wanted an older woman. What about you? Are you looking to marry, now that you’re free to do so? Her instinct, based on years as a slave, was to look down at that question, but she made herself look up instead, to meet his gaze. "I haven't really thought about it yet." She said truthfully. There was so much to think about, now that she was free, and that kind of consideration seemed a long way off. But it wasn't, was it? Ignoring the little leap that her heart did at the thought of marrying Tertius, she asked herself what she thought about the idea of marrying. Of actually having a husband. She realised she wasn't so sure about it. "Maybe." She said cautiously. "But I'm not sure." She admitted. "I've only just found my freedom, I don't want to lose it. So I would never wed by confarreatio, but then freedmen and women can't marry Senators anyway." And confarreatio was the legal form of marriage used by the patrician classes. So whatever her fantasies, she couldn't legally marry Tertius anyway, not since Augustus' reforms. But the idea of having a man in her life, someone who actually wanted her in his life, did appeal. "I might marry by usus," then a coy little smile curved her lips "or rather, avoid marriage by usus by spending some of my nights at Teutus's home." Three nights a year was all it took to prevent herself coming under her husband's legal command. @Atrice

November 76AD Praetor Ovinius Camillus, I write to you in greeting and acknowledgement of your service to the Empire. Though we have seen each other in Senate sessions we have not had the opportunity for formal introductions, and thus I seek to remedy that. You have achieved much and your family shows great potential. Should such interest you, I would be most pleased to meet with yourself and your sons, to better acquaint ourselves and to know the upcoming generation of Senators. The Goddess Athena, patroness of Rome herself, has perhaps shown a sense of humour, as the first member of your line that I have met was in fact your daughter, Ovinia Camilla, who attended the event at the palace a few months back. We re-encountered each other in passing on our travels through Rome and had an intriguing discussion on the topics of philosophy and geography. It speaks well of your family that you have a daughter so keen of mind. I have included two treatises for her which, following our conversation, I believe that she might find of interest. I look forward to future communication with yourself and shall watch with interest the political progress of your sons. Yours, in Service to the Empire Tiberius Claudius Sabucius The letter was accompanied by two scrolls. One was a treatise on the tenets of modern Stoicism by Seneca, whilst the other was a recounting by an Imperial geographer and map maker of a mountainous region of northern Gaul, including descriptions of the local peoples, their dwellings and even some of their traditions. @Sara

There were many reasons why someone might abandon a friend during or after an attack, and many of them boiled down to fear. Spurius had seen it on the battlefield, after the initial charges, when things got messy and dirty. The Legions of course took a very dim view of deserters, but there were those who hung back, and those with no desire to stay on the field when the battle was over. It was always a bit of a shock at first. And that was for hardened soldiers. How much worse then for two women who likely never expected to be attacked in the heart of Rome? So he hadn't thought much of it when Pinaria said her servant had gone for help. It might be more logical to take Pinaria with her, but the injured woman would likely slow the other down. Perhaps there had been a measure of fear involved. Still, he smiled and bowed slightly from the waist when Pinaria said she'd make a point of coming to him, should she need new slaves. A new customer was never something to be sniffed at. "I would be delighted to serve you." He replied, ever the salesman. He was trying to think up some non-intrusive question to ask her as a further distraction when Pinaria spoke up again. He glanced at her, a little surprised. "Of course. It's little of my business." He said blandly. Except of course that he'd found her, bleeding, on the street. He could absolutely see why she would not want that to be common knowledge, though he knew from experience that scars could be obvious and take care to hide. "Though if I may, I would suggest that your brother report the attack to the Vigiles. They may be able to find - and punish - your attacker." And stop any further attacks. A man who would attack a random woman on the street might well attack again. Assuming of course that the attack was random, and not someone she knew. But he'd already said it wasn't his business. @Atrice

It was interesting, seeing Jason with Ignis. It had been an impulsive move, taking them to the stables, but not without thought. Tiberius was seeing a side of his body slave that he'd never seen before. If he seemed indulgent, it fit with the types of thinking he'd been doing recently, derived from the philosophers he'd been reading. And the Imperial officials, particularly in the provinces. After all, it was the slaves who harvested the grain and the fruit, who hunted and butchered many of the beasts, who mined the ore and cut the wood. It was important for the Empire's economy to understand them, and he could start with his own. He had also considered that Jason might enjoy the experience, and that he himself might learn something about horsemanship, as well as about slaves. Certainly Ignis seemed to have accepted Jason's handling with more grace than he did with most, though he was already starting to shift his weight from hoof to hoof and paw in frustration. Next it would be the head throw, Tiberius knew from experience. Then Jason made an unexpected request. Some food, apple or carrot. It had to be a treat for the horse. He turned to the stable master, who was watching, trying and failing to keep the incredulity off his face. "Do you have any?" He asked, with the Imperial expectation that something would materialise. The man gave Jason a fleeting look of slight respect, before indicated that there were. He came back a few moments later with an apple, red skinned but slightly over-ripe. Pulling a practical knife from his belt, the stable master cut the apple into slices with an ease that said he'd done it many times before. "What is that for, Jason?" Tiberius asked, interested. Behind him the bay gelding seemed content to whuffle at the hair of the slave holding him, as though asking ever so gently why they were all dressed up with no place to go. @Sharpie

The majority of the patrician classes didn't see the plight of the plebs as their problem - most probably weren't even aware of it save for the odd beggar on the streets; they were so far removed from such that it was a common. Why, even many of the plebs were wealthy and well off, but there were also many that weren't, and in reading broadly if indiscriminately as a means to experience the Empire when he couldn't travel it, Tiberius had come to his own realisations about the nature of the plebs, both their struggles and their importance to the functioning of the Empire. The same went for slaves, but he wasn't ready to voice the half-formed ideas that he was still working on in that regard. The time would come. He didn't think less of those who failed to see the problem but he thought more of those who did. Of course, there were other, less heard areas of society, and as Ovinia had so cleverly pointed out, women's circles was another that he had little insight into. Having had a mother who was politically influential, and a strong-willed twin, he perhaps made fewer assumptions, but still. He had little appreciation for how restricted their lives were. "Of course. I should introduce myself formally to your father anyway, a letter would be a good place to start." The Praetor could, if handled right, be yet another political ally. And his daughter was excellent company. Tiberius smiled broadly when Ovinia suggested that they could enjoy another walk together. Bold perhaps, but hardly unwelcome. "I do a lot of walking too." He revealed, something that surprised those who expected an Imperial to go everywhere in a litter. "I would enjoy some company on my walks, and even more some interesting discussion." There were some who seemed too demure from truly challenging an Imperial, even if it were only in intellectual debate. Others of course were more than keen, even felt they had something to prove. In some ways he preferred the latter, but even better was the friendly middle road. "The Gardens of Sullust are a particular favourite of mine; I'm actually planning to move into the attached villa in the new year." He revealed. It would give him a little more space and the opportunity to start to develop his own household, whilst the legalities of his inheritances were sorted out. "Do you have a favourite walk?" @Sara

It was an odd but pleasing thought, the idea that he'd made enough of a difference to someone that they'd written on a wall about it. So... how would I best reach out to you, if I had issues to talk about? It was a fair question. Neither of them wanted to be accused of upsetting the apple cart by the senatores, nor indeed by Lucius's fellow vigiles. Perhaps in the future they could be more open about it, but right now discretion was the key. "You can send a message - written or verbal - with a slave, if you will. And if it is urgent, you can come yourself." Which probably wasn't what Lucius had in mind, but Tiberius hurried to explain. "It is my intention to move into the villa in these very gardens, in the new year. So I will no longer be living in the main palace complex." Which meant that he wasn't surrounded by as many walls, guards and watching eyes. "I'm sure that, as a Vigile, you know that the villa has a couple of back gates into these gardens." He suggested, subtle as a block of masonry. @Chevi

Titus was well suited to the throne, a throne which Tiberius didn't want, but he missed Quintus, the man who he remembered most as his father. He would far rather that he was still there, on the throne, to guide and teach them. They'd been bred and trained to rule, but Tiberius couldn't help feeling that they were yet too young. Thank the Gods for the support of men like Aulus. It was the second time that Horatia had claimed that her view of the political landscape was less well informed than some. "I suspect that you do not give yourself enough credit, Lady Horatia." He replied. And perhaps it sounded like flattery, and those words could certainly serve that purpose, but they were an expression of a genuine suspicion on his part. The wife of the erstwhile Consul could easily be a powerful political force in her own right. Certainly his own mother had been. "Certainly you seem to have an excellent handle on those in Titus's concillium." Because he couldn't agree more. For two young men suddenly carrying the Empire on their shoulders, they were far from alone. The fact that Horatia seemed pleased by the prospect of having Tiberius with them as Tribune to Aulus if he was assigned to the provinces was something of a relief to the young Imperial. If Aulus's family didn't welcome his presence, it could become an awkward and tedious posting. "It would be far more enjoyable to be posted with a family I already know and whose company I enjoy." He returned, smiling. "I admit I am looking forward to the prospect of some time in the provinces." Purges and such not withstanding, his childhood had been fairly sheltered. The whole experience could be very enjoyable, if they all found each others' company agreeable. Wanting to learn more about Aulus's family, Tiberius asked about his son, and listened as Horatia confirmed that the young man was soon to take his toga. The biggest step in becoming a man. He laughed a little when Horatia declared it baffling that her son was now fifteen. He supposed that, having nursed him from a squalling infant, it might be. Still, it was far better than the alternative, given how many were lost before they reached their majority. "So suddenly a young man grown? But I believe that is the idea." He said, an ever-so-gentle tease. "And something well worth celebrating. I would be honoured to attend, if you'll have me." That was quite an honour, to be invited to so important a family event. Though he supposed that if Aulus did take him as Tribune, they would have to put up with him at close quarters. "Shall we save ourselves the trouble of scouring dates, and settle on that one?" He suggested. Horatia warned him that there would be other family there, including her daughter, Aulus's sister and possibly some of Horatia's cousins. Then she mentioned one cousin in particular. Oh. Tiberius hadn't made that connection, and he really should have. Sosia had told him her father was Gaius Horatius Justinius, and here he was talking to Horatia Justinia. Oops. But if there was anything the young Imperial was trained for, it was giving a winning presentation. He smiled broadly, and entirely genuinely, at the mention of Sosia's name. "I have indeed!" He confirmed happily. "I bumped into her - quite literally - at the Temple of Minerva." Well, she'd bumped into him, but it was ungentlemanly to accuse a lady. "And she attended a gathering that I hosted at the Palace, a sort of get-to-know-your-peers for young Imperials and Patricians." He explained. "I hoped it might help her make some new acquaintances here in Rome." But he could only assume that Horatia knew that because Sosia had told her. The question was, how much had she told her cousin? @Sara

It was true that there were rules against beating or physically punishing another man's slave, but those who resorted to violence first had little in the way of imagination. He could complain about her conduct to her dominus, and the man would likely beat her for him. Or, as she so clearly demonstrated herself with her quiet, almost inaudible plea, he could send her away. Spurius had no illusions that her work here was likely the most comfortable job she had all week, by a long shot. All he had to do to punish her was not call for her again. Withdrawal of privileges was one of the most effective forms of punishment, and one of the most simple. Plus it left no mark, and persisted only as long as needed, until compliance was achieved. But in order for such punishment to work, a slave had to have some privileges in the first place. Spurius rather suspected that Ione had none at all, save for the few he'd given her, which she so clearly feared losing. He listened as she confirmed his suspicions; she'd been beaten by a client of her dominus. The tragedy in her expression when she spoke of the destruction of her lamp was almost comical, as she'd lost her whole world, except that it was probably all that she owned. No doubt she'd be expected to pay for a new one out of her meagre earnings. Thus was it ensured that these women would never accrue enough to buy their own freedom. She kept her gaze down, drawing deep breaths as she whispered to him. "Always tell me the truth, and I will have no reason to send you away." He assured her simply. "You've been satisfactory in your work and your conduct." Which had surprised him a little, given how cheap she was. But looking now at her bruises and split lip, perhaps this was what he got for hiring from the Elysium. But she was quiet, obedient and the twins were much more content, so it had all worked out. As she stood there clutching her tunica, his gaze was drawn to a mark on her collarbone, revealed by the pulled fabric. "This isn't the first time you've been hurt, is it?" He asked, as he ran one finger ever so gently over the mark, feeling the bump of proud flesh. It was a scar, but a relatively new one, the wound healed but the tissue still red. And it was a very straight one, quite likely made by something sharp. Mind you, that could be anything from a blade to a shard of pottery. @Sara

Varinia herself was at a little bit of a loss this evening. Even though Saturnalia was the night when social order was turned on it's head, she couldn't escape the fact that things had changed. In recent years she would have gone out with the other slaves from her household, found some nice food, got quite acceptably drunk, and possibly found some company for the night if she saw something she liked and he was amenable. But even though the social divide was meant to mean nothing on this one night, it still did, and she couldn't just go and rejoin the slaves of the household she'd been sold from. Nor did she feel that she could join her own slaves, and Prosperpine seemed to have her own plans anyway. So she was wondering, feeling free but a little lost and empty, like a jug whose burden of wine has been poured. Perhaps something would present itself to full that space up again. For now she had the company of this charming young man. She could feel his curiosity. "My friends with whom I celebrated aren't really available this year." She tried to explain, somewhat vaguely. So she was at a bit of a loss. But Marcus seemed to have plenty of ideas. "That sounds excellent. Lets find some drink, and also some food." Yes, good sounds good. "And we can wander our way further up the Palatine Hill. We might find your friend as we go." Because surely if he lived in the Palace, they'd been more likely to find him in that vicinity. Marcus spotted a nearby popina doing a busy trade and headed in that direction, Varinia following on his heels. The whole street was busy, but they elbowed their way through to the shop. It appeared to be one of the larger kind where there were tables in the back - and quite probably accomodation upstairs - and one near the wall was available. Varinia happily took one of the chairs and glanced over the menu depicted on the wall. "How does a good red, some bread and meatballs in wine sauce sound to you?" @Atrice

"An accident." Spurius echoed. Right. An accident where she landed on her face and got a split lip and, to judge by that momentary grasp of her side, had something impact her ribs. He might have a relatively cushy job now, and live in comfort, but Spurius had been a soldier for nearly twenty years. He was pretty sure he knew a beating when he saw one. He seemed to sigh in disappointment around Ione a lot, though usually it was because of the condition in which she was kept, rather than because of her. She was generally the perfect slave. But this time, for once, she disappointed him. He knew the injuries wouldn't scar, that wasn't the point. If there was something that Spurius had learned in his time handling slaves, it was that the heavy hand that some favoured was so rarely necessary. "Ione." He said, to ensure he had her full attention. "You know that I trade slaves." She'd seen him bring that woman to the Elysium - a move he was coming to regret, having little desire to be associated with poorly kept slaves - and she'd been in the house a few times now. "And you've seen the way I keep mine." Which was well. "Know that I will never punish a slave for telling me the truth. If I ask a question, it's because I want to know the answer." Which was a concept that seemed to escape a lot of people, who tried to flatter, or tell what they thought you wanted to hear. "But I will punish a slave for lying to me." His words took on a firmer tone, a simple statement of fact but with a warning. "Now, lets try that again." His usual, even tone returned. There was so rarely the need to shout at a slave. "What happened to you?" @Sara

"You're right." He grinned at Marcus. "Sullust was a close friend of Julius Caesar, and acquired and developed the gardens. And he built the villa." Which was an important part of the gardens that the general public probably forgot, because they had no access to it. "It was inherited by his great grandson, but then came back to the Imperial line." Which was important. The pathway led through a topiaried arch, wound around the some elegant shrubs which flowered in the spring, and ended at... a discrete door in a wall. "My family made the Gardens available as a public pleasance, but the villa is still very much ours." He knocked on the door in the wall, which was usually locked fast, and perhaps unexpectedly it opened, the familiar face of one of Tiberius's slaves behind it. He had deliberately brought Marcus to one of the rear entrances to the villa complex. But now he'd had his fun. "My family have used the Villa Sullusti as a summer palace for years, but no one has used it recently. So I decided that I would." He announced as they stepped through into a more private courtyard, still laid out along the same lines as the main gardens, so that they almost seemed to blend with them, save for the walls. It was green and pleasant and secluded. In front of them was the rear of the main villa building, with outbuildings to either side. "It will take some time for the legalities of my family's domus and estates to be sorted out, so in the meantime, this is a stepping stone for me." He turned and grinned at Marcus. "And, as promised, it can be one for you too." As the young men stood there, a slave hurried forward with a tray bearing cups; the promised wine. @Atrice

That was probably the best price he was going to get. "Done." He said simply, with a nod. He'd found that slaves - as with anyone - benefited from a little variety in their diet. As long as that variety wasn't too expensive then the benefit outweighed the cost. He'd been right, it was the same stall, and the older man wasn't here because he'd been injured, and was struggling with the cold. "I'm sorry to hear that." What else was there to say? "A hot bath and a stick to lean on can help." He suggested mildly, as one who spoke from experience. He didn't know how old the woman's father - Gaius, that was his name, he was fairly sure - was, but certainly older than himself. Spurius wondered vaguely if the man had just given up. It was easy to do so, and sometimes tempting. For himself, he'd been young enough that giving up was a recipe for a life of poverty, so in that sense he'd had no choice and the rest was history and stubbornness. But with... how many kids? At least three, he was sure; there were boys. Perhaps Gaius felt he was done. She distracted him from his musings by asking him his name. "I'm sure you've heard most people here call me Claudus, it's how I'm known." He told her with a shrug. It meant 'the lame' and was a pretty obvious cognomen, here at the markets. "My father called me Spurius Antius." He added with a wry smile. "Take your pick." He wasn't too bothered about what most people called him, so long as it wasn't a bad salesman. "And yourself? What did Gaius call you? You father is Gaius, isn't he?" He queried, just checking. If Gaius was ailing, that could make things difficult for his family. He felt for them, though as always, business was business. Still... "Do you have any vegetables going cheap in bulk?" He asked, since he was getting a delivery anyway. "I could use a weekly delivery to the warehouse of whatever's cheap and plentiful." Which meant seasonal, but that was fine. @Sara

Varinia certainly hoped that Teutus would like the tunic she was weaving him; it had fancy patterning at the neckline. It was such a simple thing, such a domestic thing, and yet she was delighted to be able to do it for him. And it almost seemed that Tertius was pleased to hear of that too. He was certainly complimentary, in his own way, and that simple thing in itself made Varinia happier than she would probably admit. She had been worried that he might not be pleased to see her, might even be angry. She suspected that Teutus might have exaggerated somewhat in describing Tertius's nature, but that didn't mean she hadn't been anxious about it, for all that she knew the meeting was necessary. But she had received the most pleasant of surprises; Tertius was not only cordial but welcoming. He actually seemed pleased to see her, and in spite of herself she was pleased to see him. They'd both changed, that much was obvious; both in the last eight years and in the many more years since they were foolish young things. Hopefully they had changed for the better. It was her turn to smile when Tertius said that his home felt more alive with Peregrinus in it. She thought she understood what he meant. He was of an age where he should have children. "He's a beautiful boy." She said warmly. "I'm glad you're enjoying him." As he hadn't been able to enjoy Teutus. She'd been devastated at the time, but as she'd grown older and learned more about Roman families and traditions, she'd come to understand that it had not been his fault. He had been under the control of his father. Whether or not he would have done anything differently if he'd had his own way... wasn't a wound she was ready to poke just now. Maybe never. Because really, what difference would it make? She was trying now to look to the future; it was brighter. Then Tertius made an unexpected revelation; he was unmarried. In spite of herself, Varinia's heart fluttered. Childish dreams had never been forgotten, but they had been firmly put away as having no connection to reality. And she wasn't fifteen any more. "I'm sorry for your loss." She said simply, unsure what else to say, but meaning every word. Still, she wondered what constituted the 'right woman' for Tertius, and had echoed of her conversation with Alexius. "Should I ask what you would consider to make the 'right woman'?" She said, feeling far more daring than when she'd asked Alexius something similar. @Atrice

He knew he wasn't fooling Marcus, but it didn't matter. Marcus still couldn't know until Tiberius revealed his surprise. And it was such a good surprise that he was confident it would erase any irritation Marcus might feel at him stringing him along. But for the moment Tiberius would enjoy teasing him, just a little. Alright... can you at least give me a hint of sorts? And does it have to do with wine, or the ladies? The young Imperial laughed as they made their way down one of the many paths within the gardens. "You do have such a one track mind Marcus." He chided with a grin. "The will be some wine." He promised. "No ladies today." But, with a little careful planning, that was a distinct possibility. New freedoms was a large part of the point. "Tell me, what do you know about these Gardens?" He asked his friend, still leading the way in amongst the greenery. @Atrice

Presumptive. "You know I'm good for it." Spurius always paid his bills; one apple was hardly going to bankrupt him. He just wanted to see whether he was buying one bad apple he wouldn't finish, or a bunch of good apples he would. It paid to give the slaves something other than oaten porridge from time to time. The fresh taste of an apple would be a treat. He eyed the pears. They were out of season. Pears didn't keep well, unlike apples, so these were probably small and sour, the last of the harvest. "If no one eats them I'm doing you a favour." He said, and named a lower price, not unreasonable for unwanted fruit. Haggling was all part of the ebb and flow of the markets. If they were too sour to eat fresh, they could be boiled. "Where's your old man?" He asked, thinking of the fellow he was pretty certain usually ran this stall. The young woman was familiar, he'd watched her grow up helping her father, though he was certain he hadn't seen her for a couple of years. But suddenly here she was, and where was he? It paid to know the other traders in the market. @Sara

He could have arranged for her to come to the house one of the days when he was at his warehouse, which was most days, but after the last woman had tried to steal from Spurius' home he preferred to be present. Plus he often took the twins with him when he worked. But as it turned out Ione was unobtrusive and quickly fit in to the household's routine on the day when everyone was at home. She'd arrive and be sent upstairs. After the first couple of weeks her guard would be given his as when they arrived and told to come back in an hour. The twins would come up one at a time; one week it would be Romulus, and the next week Remus. Spurius was nothing if not scrupulously fair. Once it was clear that she'd be back each week the pair were less desperate in their use of her, though still eager. The bath would be left in after he'd used it and once she was done Ione got her turn at it, along with the rest of the house slaves. Even if she was last in the water was at least hot, there was soap, and dilution was the solution to pollution. Then to the kitchens where Corva would feed her; simple fare and often leftovers, but as per Spurius' orders she got as much as she could eat. Then back to the Elysium with her guard. Spurius might say two or three words to her in passing, but she was quiet, unobtrusive and did what she was brought in to do, so he largely ignored her. She fit in quietly as any good slave should. Spurius was sitting at his desk, going over the weekly accounts, when she heard the odd step and gasp, outside his tablinum. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Ione there, steadying herself, and the change to her face was immediately obvious. "Come here." He said, turning his chair to face her as she approached, running a critical eye over the bruising on her face. It hadn't been the twins; both knew he'd have their hides if they mistreated anyone he brought in for them. Besides, the bruises were at least twelve hours old, having achieved a rich palette of black, blue and purple. He heaved a disappointed sigh through his nose. "And what happened to you?" He asked in weary tones. @Sara

Given the time of year, picked a few days ago was about as fresh as one could get for figs. It was too cold to grow them locally. Unfortunately they didn't travel well, but he did like them. Dried figs just weren't the same. She gestured towards the apples she had on display, which were apparently much fresher. They also kept a lot longer and were always cheaper; people used them to fatten and sweeten pigs for butcher. Mind you, he'd known some people who were right pigs... Slow day? "Just a customer who didn't know what he wanted." He grumbled, one merchant to another. He was sure she understood the irritation. Some he could guide to find a slave that would suit their needs, others seemed to want the best in Rome, whatever that might be, but didn't want to pay the price. This had been one of the latter. He picked up an apple and bit into it. Some apples were bitter, and when they'd been stored for a while they went dry and floury, but this was sweet, juicy and tangy, with the chill air lending the flesh a pleasant crispness. And at this time of year they were one of the main fresh fruits available. He glanced back towards the warehouse; why not, as a treat? "Do me a deal on five librae* of apples to the warehouse." He requested, being unable to carry that many himself. "And I'll take a sextans* of figs and this one for myself." He waved the bitten apple before taking another bite. It was really rather good. @Sara *Libra = 328g, sextans = 55g

I hope it shall not be necessary to punish your slaves. That was an unusual comment from one who purported to be a guard. But Spurius recalled that earlier slip; he was pretty certain that Manius had been a slave. Sympathy for their charges wasn't a bad thing, so long as it didn't cause him to become lax. As with anyone, give them an inch and they'd take a mile. "It rarely is." The slaver replied. "Slaves thrive on clear boundaries and expectations, and having their needs met. Do that, and they're happy. And we do." He'd already explained how, so he didn't bother to do so again. Manius would learn the finer points of how things worked here by experience; or he wouldn't last long. But he maintained that he was a swift learner. "I'm sure you shall. As always, if you're not certain, ask Numerius or one of the other guards." That was simple enough. "You might as well start now. I'll pay you by day this week." That would give Manius some funds to sort himself out outside of work, and also make it easy to terminate his employment if he proved unsuitable. Spurius rather hoped that he wouldn't, he could use a guard and if the man was the fighter he claimed to be, perhaps more in future. "Now, I've got a client to see." Numerius approached and offered Manius the simple cudgel that Spurius had requested, and guided him away to start their morning duties. His new employer meanwhile went to his office to get his records. A chance encounter might well work out for the best for both of them. (OOC: Finished! And thank you!)

He hadn't experienced much of Romans' creativity in fucking - more's the pity - but he'd certainly seen their creativity in killing. He endeavoured not to be another example of it, or at least hold it off for as long as possible. One had to die of something eventually, but personally he'd rather die in bed. Preferably someone else's bed. Someone hot and horny and... OK Aeneas focus. "Alexius?" He echoed, recalling the man he'd met briefly in Claudia Gaia's company. The two had spoken in a way that suggested they knew each other very well, and he'd felt like something of a third wheel. But a strip tournament sounded like much more fun than a fight to the death. "Tis a shame I wasnae there tae see it." He grinned, trying to imagine what it would have been like. Still... Thessala vs Alexis must have been something to see. After a moment the northerner cocked his head to one sight and turned to look at his companion thoughtfully, something bubbling at the back of his brain as that image was shuffled around mentally. How to explain it? "Whit aboot..." the term 'mixed doubles' wouldn't come into popular use for nearly two thousand years. "Whit aboot twa teams fichtin'." He said, after a moment, accent broadening because he wasn't paying attention to how he spoke. "Each team is a man an' a woman." Romans always seemed to get excited about women who fought, for some strange reason. @Chevi