Sarah

It was a rare moment of freedom; he'd been trusted to go to the Emporium Magnum, the grand markets, on an errand. It was only picking up a garment that had been ordered, for his mistress, and he knew that it was a test to see how he handled this extra level of freedom, but it was heady none the less, to walk across the flagged square and not be bothered by anyone.

There was someone bothering other people, however. A big brute of a man, a boy cowering before him, a ring of cowards who wouldn't step forward, and then as he watched, one did and just about got laid flat. A lad with red hair, unusual amongst Romans but far more common amongst Aeneas's own people. He was dressed like a slave, but a well-kept one. He wasn't sure from this angle what station in life the big man held. But someone was going to get pummelled if no one did anything, and likely it would now be the youth who'd tried to intervene. Who might his owner be?

"You hit valuable slave, his Dominos ask expensive questions." Aeneas pointed out, stepping into range and eyeing the brute with the eye of an experienced fighter. Under his pale, freckly skin he'd developed the musculature of a gladiator, though he was still tall and lean compared to the big man who seemed to get his jollies from abusing others. Aeneas was never going to have that herculean build that some favoured, but he was quick and light on his feet, and right now entirely focused on the brute and the question of whether or not he would see sense, or pick Aeneas as his next target.

@Sharpie

"Want to." He confirmed. Whether or not he'd ever get the chance to see the theatre however was largely beyond his control. He served the whims of his mistress, and he was pretty sure that it wasn't a usual place for a gladiator. But his views on Roman society were changing, from a one-dimensional resentment of a hard-hearted people to a growing interest in the lives and passtimes of those who were free. Maybe one day he'd get to experience the same.

He was also understanding that not all citizens of the Empire were, strictly speaking, of Roman origin. Perhaps it was because he was Greek that Theodorus was not so stuffy about their social divide. He'd certainly been interesting to talk to.

He gave a nod at the man's warning, and tested his ankle gingerly on the floor. It felt better, if stiff. "Will try. Doctore not want damage gladiator, Domina not be pleased." And anyone who'd seen Corinthia in a temper would likely fear that. Perhaps there were times when it wasn't so bad to be viewed as goods, as long as one was valuable goods.

"Is good meet you too, good talk." He said with a smile. "Interesting. You teach me about Romans, Greeks." He didn't have the words to express his appreciation of the opportunity to broaden his cultural understanding, but hopefully the medicus got the idea. "Thank you." And with that he turned to head back out and see whether the doctore would give him leave for the rest of the day.

OOC: Thank you for an interesting thread!

@Chevi

Is that so?

He nodded in a reserved fashion, offering nothing further for the moment. He wanted to see how Cynane responded. It was an odd feeling, considering his own standing and politics less than those of his mistress, to whom his own were of course inextricably tied. But he supposed it was no different to talking to members of neighbouring clans, and minding their chieftains' business.

Claudia Caesaris; that was a name he knew, even if he hadn't been able to put a face to it until Cynane nodded towards the young lady with the dramatic combination of fair skin and dark hair, as elaborately styled as her clothes. Oh yes, he'd heard that name before, the young lady who occupied the position that his mistress felt should be hers. "They cousins." He pointed out. Two Claudias, both named for the line of Caesars from which they descended, but his was the daughter of a freed slave and a man who might have been Caesar but never was, whilst Cynane's was the daughter of a Caesar who had actually been, and a lady of high birth. This was all information he'd gleaned slowly over time, from his mistress and the household slaves. He never commented on the difference in station, knowing that it was Corinthia's goal to be recognised as an imperial daughter, and in his interest to assist with such.

"I still learn Romans." He admitted quietly. "First I sent to ludus. But my Domina and her mother both kind to me." Well, Corinthia shouted at him quite a bit, but he'd learned that she was all bark and no bite, at least where he was concerned, and her mercurial moods likely to blow over quickly if he simply weathered them.  "They same age? Your Domina and mine." He suggested. Close anyway. "Could be good friends." He observed. If given the chance, anyway. And if Corinthia behaved herself. Surely she would recognise a political ally.

@Atrice

Lexus thought he knew the establishment, which was all to the good. The slave had heard of it only, and via the guards, so goodness knew what quality it was. And whether a lady like Gaia should be seen there, not that the two men, slave and freeman, would let anything happen to her.

Of course, he was sweaty and half-dressed, and probably stank, so it was not that surprising that the others suggested he might like to clean up, even as Aeneas was keen to exit the ludus as rapidly as possible. He couldn't argue with their good sense. "I go wash, get tunica." He confirmed, bowed slightly to the pair, and disappeared into the buildings of the ludus, long strides eating up the distance quickly.

What an odd turn of events, he mused as he walked. Much as it pained him, the reality that he was never likely to return home was settling in, and thus he was beginning to wonder what life he might make for himself here. The additional freedoms that were beginning to come with trust and time were making that transition of thought a little easier.

@Gothic@Atrice

Tiberius, dressed in a gleamingly white toga over a tunic edged in gold and purple, was sitting quietly as his twin sister chatted with her friend, watching the comings and goings around them. One could learn a lot by watching whom people did and didn't speak to. He was accompanied only by Tigris, an older man who was his body slave, and the usual Praetorian guards that surrounded the Imperial presences.

Claudia asked about the upcoming bout, and from the nearest seats a Senator he recognised spoke up. Aulus had been a staunch supporter of their uncle, Caesar Quintus, for much of his life, so the trusted position of his family, so close to the Imperials, had been well earned. "Thank you, Senator." He smiled politely at the man, taking the list and passing it to his sister so that she could peruse it, before handing it back.

"One trusts that your return to Rome has been pleasant." He said to Aulus, with a glance and a faint smile of acknowledgement for his lady wife. The man had been governing in the provinces, if Tiberius recalled correctly. An honour, but he was was quite likely slated for greater things still.

@Anna@Chris@Sharpie@Gothic

The water boy brought him wine at the behest of his ever dignified mistress, and Spurius nodded politely in acknowledgement in Titinia's direction, before taking a sip. It was a good vintage, the madame was gracious to serve it, but that was something that he'd observed about her. Perhaps it was a front that went with the elite clientelle, but then he was no different with his own salesman's face.

But she was pleased with Justinia, which was well. The girl seemed just as pleased, even as Titinia lamented the tendency of her best slaves to earn their way to freedom faster than she'd like. Well, she didn't have to free them, but her slaves seemed to respond well to the possibility. Certainly Justinia seemed positively delighted with her current circumstances. "Only a problem if she wishes to leave." He observed, voice deepening slightly in amusement, accompanied by a humoured twist of the lips, as he glanced at the young lady in question. She was exquisite, as Titinia described her, and had flowered further with access to the arts and wiles of the brothel, turned out in a manner that brought out the best of her beauty.

"What would you do, if you were free?" He asked Justinia on impulse, carefully lowering himself into one of the available chairs, using his staff for support. Even as he asked he observed Gaia out of the corner  of his eye, aware that she had been a slave herself once, though he would not be so crass as to draw attention to the fact. She had also been the wife of an Imperial. A person's fortunes could change, in the blink of an eye. He was all too aware of that. Right now Justinia's seemed to be rising.

Even Spurius's might be said to be positive, surrounded as he was by three beautiful and confident women. Definitely the thorn amongst the roses.

@Gothic@Anna@Sydney

Tiberius laughed and held up his hands to ward off any further playful blows. "I never said more than you!" He protested, amused at what his sister read, or pretended to read, into his words. The idea of jewellery and other ornaments was to compliment the wearer. And if one saw a striking slave, the next question was, who owned them? And Cynane was striking; it wasn't like Tiberius hadn't noticed. He had a young man's sincere if undiscerning appreciation of good-looking women, though his nature meant that he generally kept his observations of the ladies at court to himself.

Likely if Cynane was his slave she'd have been well harassed with questions about her origins. "You should." He agreed. His slaves weren't quite so exotic. "Not so much." He admitted, trying to think if there were any interesting stories amongst his mostly Roman-born slaves. "Old Tigris has been to Judaea, all the way to Petra, where he says great temples, tombs and government buildings are cut into the very rock of the hills, rather than built." Which sounded fantastic, yet also somehow practical, if one had strong cliffs to work with. "That would be something to see." He mused.

Glancing around the room, the young Imperial sipped his wine. "I wonder what mischief we're in for tonight." He mused, eyeing both the slaves and the nobles who took their ease amongst them. These were, of course, only the trusted inner court. Likely things in the city would become far more raucous, if stories were to be believed.

@Gothic

6 hours ago, Gothic said:

It would be awesome if someone took on Prince Titus. It would be great to have him on the site and in play! 

I'd love to have a thread with the character and also see one between him and Tiberius. 

I'd love to write this thread too!

We have, I've just been super busy IRL, but getting back into posting now. Definitely up for that thread @Sara!

I'd love to see the Claudias (Caesaris and Corinthia) together but that would be boring for @Gothy to write, since they're both hers. Certainly would love to see Corinthia interact with more of the Imperials.

Absolutely, I can imagine that having been a slave Julia might not be particularly fond of slavers, and I had considered the difference in social status. It would be interesting to have them interact and see how they react to each other. I haven't really thought about how Spurius feels about former slaves. It might provide a growth opportunity for both of them.

@Jenn

So I know he's not the imperial ally that you asked for (at least, not yet) but I was wondering whether Spurius Antius Claudus might be of interest? If not as a potential husband then maybe as a friend or paramour? He's a plebian but quite well off, he's been a successful slave trader for some time now. There is the definite potential for him to become ambitious in politics, with the right motivation. He's close to Julia in age, never been married (prefers to pay the tax, the source of some speculation), used to be a soldier but came back injured and walks with a distinct limp.

I just thought I'd throw him out there.

@Jenn

His smile broadened as Drusilla greeted him warmly, and he ventured further into the room at her welcome. She was Augusta, wife and daughter of Caesars, a powerful woman in her own right. But she had a way of making the royal children feel welcome. "I know there are many calls on your time, though I'm glad I found you." He said. Of course she was busy. "Uncle Octavius told me about the schools and orphanages." He added, the politician's reserve slipping to reveal boyish enthusiasm. As an orphan himself, he approved of making provisions for those without the benefit of family to care for them. "And the library, of course." He added with a momentary, cheeky grin. Of course Octavius had enthused about the library, his pet project.

He seemed to collect himself for a moment, the grin fading to a more adult smile. "I think that both are projects of great benefit to the Empire, and I wanted to ask whether there was anything that I could do to assist you?"

No doubt Drusilla already had things well in hand, organised lady that she was, but he wanted to ask. She had done much for him, and he knew what it was to lose one's parents. Quintus and Drusilla cared for him like their own, but there were others who were nowhere near so fortunate.

@Anna My turn to apologise.

The torchlight outlined Aeneas's barbarian features, the high cheekbones and pale skin of his race. Perhaps the wine was making him a little reckless, he wasn't used to drinking heavily any more, and he rarely spoke of what he had left behind, after that admission on their first meeting. She knew, he knew she knew and did nothing about it, what point was there in saying more? But she had asked. He was at last accepting that he wasn't going home and, feeling cut off from the life he knew, was feeling a little fatalistic. The wine definitely wasn't helping that. But he'd never been a maudlin drunk. As he tossed back the last of the wine in his cup, he felt the subject was done; what could be said had been.

Her stern tone was something that he had become accustomed to; he thought of it as part of her mask, and had started listening more to her words than her tone. You will stay here with me. Not 'you will protect me' or 'you will serve me', just 'you will stay with me'. Those blue eyes, twilight dark in the light of the torches, watched her as he nodded slowly, seriously. It was the answer, he knew, but the fact of his remaining in Rome had taken time to accept. She refilled his cup, her thumb for a moment rubbing against his fingers as her tongue ran across her lips, before the clarification that he'd been expecting came. Protect, serve, her words said the expected things, her actions something quite different. Against his will he felt his pulse quicken. He listened to her words of course, but also to the things she didn't say, hinting at things she couldn't say.

And the surprising reassurance. She would protect him in turn. He thought for a moment of the red-headed slave who was head of Gaia's household, and his privileged position in it, and he thought of his mistress, who at times seemed a mature woman and at others a girl playing at being one. Beautiful, headstrong, but also fragile in a way that he was still fathoming. And he was the first that was hers and hers alone. He couldn't pretend that she didn't bring out protective instincts in him, and something more, something he tried to ignore when she stroked his hand with her thumb. She was, in her own odd way, fascinating.

Those deep-set blue eyes were focused entirely on her as he reached out and gently stroked his long fingers along her tanned forearm, a gesture that might have been meant to be reassuring, or something else. "I protect you." He assured her intently. "Who try to hurt you, Domina?" He asked. He wanted to know their enemy.

@Gothic

It wasn't what he'd ask, but it was perhaps more than many slaves got. Especially gladiator slaves like him who were virtually disposable. Trust had to be earned, and that went both ways. She would do what she could for him, she said. What that might mean, he didn't know. But he would do what he could for her, at least until he learned more of her ways and motives. That would take time, but he did not intend to act rashly.

Instead he simply nodded in acknowledgement, waiting on her pleasure with the easy patience of one with nothing better to do. Did she want anything else from him? Those dark eyes seemed to scrutinise him, even as he watched her in turn, trying to fathom her nature. He did not shy away from her scrutiny; let her look, he had nothing to hide. Unlike, it seemed, his new mistress.

@Gothic

Tiberius Claudius Sabuchius is 18 (nearly 19); is that old enough? It could be an interesting intoroduction to the more social aspect of Senatorial life.

It was an interesting idea. In his culture bards, and the power of their words, were held in such respect - and also perhaps fear - that there were specific laws that applied to them. A Chieftain could be taken down by the barbed words of a bard who felt wronged by them, if they could sway the opinions of the people against them. No one would follow a leader they did not trust.

How much power then might a group of bards have, acting out the stories of legend? Especially if they were skilled enough to twist the story to reflect current events, in one light or another. "Maybe one day I see theatre." He suggested. It would be an interesting experience, no doubt.

Theodorus was easy to talk to, and didn't seem to object to Aeneas's sense of humour. He was also an interesting source of information. When he'd first been captured it had seemed to Aeneas that the Romans only wanted to make everywhere like themselves. Now that he had spent some time amongst them he had learned that even Roman society was made up of people from many different places, and that their culture likewise seemed to incorporate the aspects of other cultures that appealed to them. The bits that didn't were another matter.

The gladiator slave glanced down at his ankle, then back up at the medicus. "Good now?" He asked

@Chevi

"Indeed." He agreed with a slight nod, blue gaze scanning the room quickly for any threat to his charge. But all seemed well. And there were a number of bodyguards watching. He returned his attention to his companion when she introduced herself, and nodded politely in acknowledgement.

Her next question was perhaps to be expected, though the addendum was much less so. He nodded in the direction of the young lady with the tanned skin, perfect coiffure and make-up. "Claudia Corinthia." He supplied, then gave a faint, amused smile. "No, no trouble." He lied. "She is imperial family." Though presumably due to the death of her father, didn't live at the palace.

"And yours?" He asked the blonde warrior. Who was she she here to protect? Was it someone who might be of interest politically to Corinthia? His own mistress was, he knew trying to cement the standing expected for one of her bloodline. And if her fortunes rose, so did his.

@Atrice

Gaia's giggles were a warm reward, telling him that despite his poor mastery of Latin, the intended joke had been understood. The struggle to communicate was a constant one, but he worked daily to improve his skills in the strange language, to be able to speak to those around him. Perhaps to forge some sort of connection. Gaia was one of the more sympathetic listeners.

The doctore didn't seem to want to let him go, a contrast to some of the trainers who were quite happy to get him out of their hair if his mistress wished it. Perhaps he'd had something specific in mind this morning. Aeneas was more than happy for an excuse to get out of the rigorous training for a few hours, expecially if it meant the company of those who didn't treat him like some short-lived creature, and involved a drink.

If he had to be back by midday then they didn't have too long. "Is a domus publica west of ludus entry gate, three streets walk." He recalled, not knowing how good a quality the drinking establishment was. "Guards say watchers go often." At 'watchers' he indicated the seats above, where the audience might observe the gladiators practicing. No doubt dealers came there to buy and sell as they observed. Aeneas suspected that the guards frequented the pub as well.

@Gothic@Atrice

He sold a lot of slaves, and whilst he generally remembered the Roman ones, at least vaguely, he never really expected to see them again, except possibly in passing. There were a few exceptions, household slaves for wealthy customers where he would take his wares to them, and the occasional troublesome return, but the majority moved through his care and onwards, to whatever life held in store for them.

Thus he wasn't expecting the additional greeting when the blue-clad whore entered the room and greeted her mistress, before turning to him. He looked her up and down, hazel gaze noting that she looked well indeed, and seemed to have taken to the life that chance and he himself had thrown her into. That was well. And yes, he remembered her, the obedient slave who's only real need had been some consistency in her life. "Justinia." He acknowledged, with a slight inclination of his head. He hadn't intended to visit the Domus Venus or see the slave he'd sold, but Fortuna was obviously in a whimsical mood. "You are looking well."

It was an odd feeling. As one who handled slaves every day, the turn-about of Saturnalia left him feeling slightly discombobulated, the usual social expectations overturned. What did one say to a slave who was one's equal on this night of nights? Perhaps it was doubly so because he wasn't accustomed to slaves he'd sold being quite so pleased to see him. He settled for, "I'm glad the Domus suits you." Not without a glance at Titinia; did she suit the Domus? That was always the more pertinent question.

@Sydney@Gothic@Anna

((My turn to apologise! Had an attack of real life.))

Hey!

So sorry I missed this. Must remember to check plotter frequently.

Yes! All the things! I am definitely up for maintaining imperial family connections (even if I get a bit confused about who's related to whom sometimes). Also always looking for more interactions for my slave. What would you like to do?

@Brian

I also tend to find it easier to write male characters than female. No idea why.

Seated amongst the other backbenchers as was appropriate to one still learning, Tiberius watched as his family members assumed the more central seats. His uncles and of course Quintus Caesar himself. Yes, theirs was an influential family, and it was important to remain so, which was why he was here. But he was not alone, as his cousin and adopted brother climbed the steps, though the process took some time as Titus paused to greet everyone, the far more garrulous of the two. And the more popular. Tiberius was more than happy for Titus to have the limelight, and greeted the other young man with a warm smile as his cousin settled, only to ask quietly if he was looking forward to the Senate meeting.

"I am." Tiberius replied, realising that he meant it. "And you?" Though he suspected he knew the answer. Here was where the policies that drove the fate of the empire were decided. That was far more important to him than social good will, though he was still learning that that and political sway often went hand in hand.

There was no time for further conversation as the Princeps Senatus called the session to order, opening it and the floor to the matters that would be discussed this day. Caesar - looking very official and rather more distant in this formal setting - rose and introduced the subject for discussion. Tiberius was immediately interested, it was something he and Uncle Octavius had discussed last year, now seemingly ready to come to fruition. Older men, more experienced Senators, rose to speak each in their own turn, raising points for and against, concerns and support, and Tiberius listened with interest, mentally categorising those who were likely to be in favour of the proposal, and those who might be against. They spoke of lightening the future burden these children could pose, and the burden of cost such an effort could now bring, of ways and means and the limited supply of funds, of the poor future left for these children if nothing was done. All valid points, and not all mutually sustainable. And then suddenly it was his turn.

Rising to his feet, Tiberius took a deep breath as he felt the eyes of the majority of the Senate on him, for the first time, in this space. This was what he had trained for, and he either took his place among them, or forever wondered what he might have become. Perhaps it helped that this was a subject about which he felt strongly.

"Honoured Senators." He began, lifting his chin to counter the urge to swallow nervously. "Ten years ago the heart of the Empire was decimated, and she is still recovering. This is an opportunity to treat her remaining wounds. Many children were left orphaned in those dark days." The urge to swallow or stutter was suddenly gone, subsumed by a cold, suppressed anger; he was one of those children. "Some of us were fortunate enough to be adopted into the houses of our kin," he bowed politely in Quintus' direction, "others had no kin to turn to. The eldest of these are already grown, and with no skills or education may well have turned to thievery or charity to survive. If so, these people are a drain on society, and on the Empire's coffers. Lets not make that mistake with the younger ones."

"Certainly, let us try different methods. Perhaps a tax incentive might be offered to families to adopt orphans. Or houses built that will shelter many children, making efficient use of one cook, one tutor per house. Let the brightest move on to grammaticus, and the others be indentured to a trade. Let there be a tax of repayment when they can earn a living, if needs be. But let us not do nothing." His voice was firm, the blood of his line showing though. "In another ten years the orphans of the strife will be all grown, and the need will be less; it is up to us to decide whether they shall be a valuable part of the Empire, or the millstone around our neck that we did not care to remove before it grew heavy. Consider; the children we save today could well be the men who lead us tomorrow." He gave a faint smile, and for a fleeting moment looked very much like his father.

And as quick as that, the attention of the Senate moved on, another rising to their feet even as Tiberius resumed his seat.

@Liv

As the two spoke quietly the medicus worked on Aeneas's ankle, and the gladiator could only hope that the man was good at what he did and he'd be up and running on it soon. He doubted that a medicus who wasn't any good would last long at the ludus, a gladiator who couldn't fight was worthless. The man was also pleasant enough company, which was a rare respite from the manner of their trainers. Perhaps because he wasn't Roman, perhaps simply because that was his nature.

Aeneas might be an uncultured barbarian but he wasn't stupid, and he listened with interest as Theodorus described the theatre. Stories he understood, the bards told the sagas of the great heroes at important events, as well as singing songs and reciting poetry. They were often dramatically recounted, but generally only by the one person. The idea of playing out the myth or legend was novel.

"I know stories." He said quietly. "But usually only one person tell." He rolled the concept of this art form around in his head. "So people pretend to be Gods, or people from stories?" It was... intriguing. A good bard could transport their listeners to that time and place with their telling, but to watch the story played as though it were unfolding in the here and now... would be quite something else.

There was an odd, faint little smirk on the barbarian's lips as he looked Theo up and down. "Romans take many things from Greeks, hmm?" He observed quietly.

@Chevi

Hi similarly named writer! *waves*

I don't know whether their stories could be worked together, but Aeneas is a Briton (Caledonii), a smith by trade, a gladiator by slavery and is only slightly older (23). He's obviously not the brother you had in mind, but could perhaps we could work something out? They might be cousins, maybe somebody's mother moved? (Aeneas' application)

@Sara

Aeneas would have preferred some breeches, but none had been supplied. He was still learning Corinthia's mercurial moods, judging the right time to ask for things. Though perhaps she simply liked showing off his long if somewhat hairy legs; he understood that to Romans slaves could be as much ornamentation as practical.

He could only assume from her outfit that the tall woman was also serving as a bodyguard, presumably for one of the female attendees, which made a certain sense. Where he came from women didn't go raiding or onto the battlefields, but there wasn't one who wouldn't pick up a sword or an axe if another clan raided their village.

She greeted him civilly enough, though they were both cautious. He inclined his head slightly as she suggested he might want a drink, though he was aware he was on duty, keeping one eye on Corinthia as she circulated. "Little one." He allowed. His Latin was far from fluent yet, and his accent was still very much present, sounds of the north of Britannia.  He fielded a mug of beer from one of the slaves carrying drinks and took a mouthful.

"Aeneas." He said after a moment, jerking a thumb at himself. It was the name he'd been given.

@Atrice