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Sharpie

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Sharpie last won the day on January 10

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  1. Attis had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the situation. He could not let either man know of his amusement - his master would be unhappy with him now and the Prefect unhappy that his humiliation had been overheard by a slave. And the Prefect might take his discomfiture out on that slave at some hitherto unknown time in the future. He stepped across to his master as bidden. "We were here, doing this, domine," he said, looking up his master's face to ensure that his lead was welcomed and he wasn't overstepping himself as his pressed his mouth to his master's. Hopefully this time they wouldn't be interrupted! @Sara
  2. Why in the world Charis couldn't plait her hair, Teutus didn't know. Surely even the uncivilised British knew how to do a simple plait? Or was it merely that the girl was trying to play up being uncivilised? She was in Rome now, though, and should learn proper civilised habits. If she could learn to read (waste of Tertius' time teaching her, surely) she could learn to keep her hair tidy. In the meantime she seemed as determined to rile Teutus as ever. "Imagining things?" Teutus asked, producing the wax tablet. "I must have a very good imagination, then. Who is Rufus?" @Sara
  3. The knock on the slaves' side door could hardly have been better timed; Teutus was about to leave the house on an errand. He was the slave with the most liberty to come and go and not all of his 'errands' were official and ordered by the master of the house. This one was, however, and Teutus had to bite back some uncomplimentary language as the ragamuffin on the doorstep thrust an equally nondescript plain wax tabula at him. "For Charis the slave of Tertius Quinctilius Varus," the child said, looking up at Teutus hopefully. Teutus bit back another round of uncomplimentary language. "From Rufus the slave of Octavius Flavius Alexander," the child intoned, its (Teutus had no idea of the kid's gender under the dirt and oversized boy's tunic) eyes round at pronouncing the name of one of the Emperor's close relatives. Teutus sighed, fished out an as and took the battered tabula. "She'll get it," he told the kid who exchanged tablet for coin and ran off to spend his (her?) earnings on a penny bun or something. Teutus could not delay his own errand so it was some time later, once he had returned home, that he cornered Charis. They had barely spoken since their argument, and Teutus had no real desire to speak with her now. "If the master finds you're seeing a man outside the household, he's going to be furious," Teutus said, launching into it without wasting time on preliminaries. The sooner Charis learned what was and was not permitted, the better. It would be even better if she could actually follow those rules, but Teutus wasn't about to hold his breath. @Sara
  4. To Charis, from your dear friend Rufus, greetings! I am very glad my news was so welcome. She looked well, she looks like you except with yellow hair (Rufus was not at all sure that Charis knew the word 'blonde' and erred on the side of caution. Also, why Nymphias had not been named 'Flavia' was anyone's guess!) and is maybe a bit taller. She is well, and I think she is more happy now that she knows you are here and safe. She asked if you had a child now and I had to say no, so that made her sad, I think, but she is happy that you are well. I hope that you are able to meet her, it will be much better than having to go via me. Be well, I hope I can see you soon. Rufus @Sara
  5. Any comment Attis would have made in reply to that was silenced as his master bent to kiss him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was wondering if his master was a mind-reader as his words had so neatly mirrored Attis' own thoughts (he sincerely hoped not!). His master tasted of nice wine and fresh bread and something that was indefinably himself. Attis was just getting used to the whole thing (he had not expected to be kissed, after all!) when they were interrupted, his master breaking off before they'd really got going, leaving Attis gasping and swearing at the interruption, and wishing the Prefect to the wilds of Germania, or Dacia or somewhere with absolutely hordes of barbarians that wasn't right here in Britannia. "I wanted to confirm the arrangements for receiving the barbarian prisoners tonight," the Prefect continued, oblivious. It was Attis' turn to choke now, and he studiously avoided catching his master's eye; surely the Prefect could manage to figure that out for himself without having to get someone senior to sign off on it? @Sara
  6. "I'm not just a pretty face, domine, though I can understand the mistake," Attis replied. He was surely going to be whipped for his impertinence one day, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind, but it was so easy to be flippant with a master like his, who seemed to actively encourage the worst retorts. He bent to retrieve a tunic, only to be interrupted. He dropped the garment and crossed the tent to stand before his master, the spark of irritation that he had felt dying away under the heat of Longinus' gaze. "Well, as I have been positively forbidden from making eyes at officers, or even soldiers, that only leaves the other slaves, domine. I suppose I could try my luck with a captured barbarian before they all get sold off? Seeing as you've also forbidden me to look at the wild ones." He risked looking up at his master's face. "Or I could find you a mirror, if I knew where to look now," he added, daringly. Had his master just implied he'd get jealous of anyone Attis wanted to sleep with? How odd! Flattering, of course, but odd nonetheless. @Sara
  7. To Charis, from your friend Rufus, greetings! I trust this finds you well. I have some good news to report: I have found your sister Ardra. She is known as Nymphias and is a slave in the household of Titus Sulpius Rufus, a senator. I have no news yet of your mother or brother, but your sister wishes you well and hopes that you will both be able to meet very soon. I will keep looking for your mother and brother and hope that I will be able to send you news of them soon. The above missive was sent scratched into the wax of a cheap plain wooden wax writing tablet, in script on one leaf and capitals on the other. @Sara
  8. "Records? Of course," Aulus said, growing serious. Levity was not something that came easily to him, unlike Longinus and Titus Rufus. He could recognise a joke well enough, but could not keep it up for long when it was his turn to play one. It had led to having his leg pulled, but he was not the best person to play jokes on, either, as various people had discovered over the years. He narrowed his eyes. "If you are joking, Titus Sulpicius Rufus, it is in poor taste. If you are serious - how many units are concerned?" It could be poor accounting, of course - even the best mathematicians required an abacus to work out XVII plus III, after all - but if it was not, and it was more than one unit whose accounts were coming up short, that meant that there was a high-ranking personage involved and quite possibly several junior ranking people, too, which meant that the fraud (if such there was!) could run very deep indeed. He would not dignify Longinus' comment with a reply save the raising of an eyebrow. @Liv @Sara
  9. Find something? He was likely to lose something if he kept on like this! "It'd be more than entertaining to watch you putting everything back just the way it was, domine," Attis informed him, staring around at the destruction with a despairing look. "I suppose it didn't occur to you to think I might know where whatever you're looking for actually is?" He managed to bite his tongue before suggesting that if his master was that desperate for entertainment, Attis could throw a stick for him and asked instead, "What did you have in mind, domine?" If his master was attempting to spoil the mood, he was going the right way about it! After all, no matter what happened, it would be Attis who'd end up clearing this mess up, either tonight or tomorrow. He pulled off his own cloak, folding it and putting it with the rest of his own meagre belongings - no matter what happened now, it was going to be in his way. @Sara
  10. Sharpie

    Beauty's Plotter

    Go the Whites! (Make sure you've joined the Whites club so your new guy can post in their area!)
  11. "She'll think I'm joking? I hope not," Rufus said, and shrugged. "I wouldn't joke about something like that - I know what it's like to be separated from someone you love." He didn't feel the need to go into detailed explanations about his old master and mistress, and his separation from Bretta, but hoped that even the brief explanation would soothe Nymphias' fears. "I hope she'll be happy - I hope you'll be able to meet her. Your master is Titus Sulpius Rufus?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Rufus means... someone with red hair, like me," he told her, noticing her expression as she said the name, though just because a citizen had the name Rufus somewhere in his tria nomina did not mean that he was a redhead himself. It more than likely meant that someone in his ancestry had been, and might even have been a slave once upon a time. "I can joke, in the right circumstances. I don't think I'm a very serious person - more serious than some people, maybe." He continued, unable to keep from laughing at the expression the girl pulled. "Yes, some people are very serious - probably very boring. They have nothing else to do with their time except count coins. Very dull indeed." And that had brought the topic back round, neatly, to why she had stopped him in the first place. "Do you need help to count your coins, to know how much money you have to spend for your master?" @Beauty
  12. Attis followed his master to his tent, with Longinus brushing off a centurion at one point in a way that Attis was thankful for (the man was dreadfully longwinded and once he got going it was almost impossible to stop him). Attis was left gaping at the tent as his master ducked inside with a cheerful, "You can stay outside. I don't need you." Wait, what? He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, trying to work out what sort of joke his master was playing - he'd thought they were gearing up for a fun time and he'd been left in the cold. Literally. It wasn't long, really, before his master's head reappeared around the tent flap. "Care to join me, Attis?" Attis ducked into the tent to find that his master had started to get his breastplate off, and either found that he couldn't manage it himself, or stopped halfway. Attis elected to ignore it (his master's mood had turned downright strange) and poured his master a cup of wine before affecting an innocent expression and enquiring, "Should I go and find the Prefect so you can finish the conversation you were having with him earlier, domine?" @Sara
  13. "Pregnant," Rufus said, guessing that Nymphias did not know the word. Why should she, after all? Erea had not looked pregnant when Rufus had met her, either time, nor had she said anything about a child. It was quite possible that she had lost it during the journey from Britannia - Rufus had no idea how long that journey was, precisely, but knew that it was not short, and involved a sea voyage. "She seemed... sad. Nervous, about the future, and sad that she lost her family." The normal sort of emotions someone in the slave market would have, in Rufus' opinion - not mention in his experience! "I think she will be happy to know you are all right, though." Happier if she could actually meet her sister, of course, though who knew how that could happen! And that prompted Rufus to ask, "What is your master's name, so I can tell Erea? Charis, I mean." @Beauty
  14. Attis was convinced that he'd somehow fallen sideways into some sort of different world; there was no way his master was serious (though he seemed to be; it looked as though they were heading back to Longinus' tent). How Attis had got away with his irreverence was anyone's guess - had his master been anyone else, Attis wouldn't have dreamed of saying half of what he'd said to his master over the last few months. It looked as though his master was serious, though. He was good-looking and had he not been Attis' master (and a soldier and an officer and everything else Attis was now forbidden from looking at) he would have definitely propositioned the man. This was going to be interesting! He couldn't help blinking at the next question directed his way. "I'd have you however you'd like, domine," he said. Oh, now he can rein it in? He waited until his master had turned away again before rolling his eyes at himself. He honestly wouldn't mind which way this equation turned out, in fact, he thought. Though he'd rather start off with his master taking the lead - who was he kidding? His master was going to take the lead anyway, being who and what he was. @Sara
  15. "You wouldn't have thought it was genuine if I had suggested it, domine," Attis pointed out. "You'd have spent the whole time wondering what I was trying to get out of you." He shrugged. "No barbarians, no soldiers and definitely no officers." He could work with that - there were plenty of other slaves in the camp, after all, and some of them weren't bad looking. He couldn't help noticing the way his master was eyeing him up now the subject had been raised. How in Jupiter's name had he ended up with an honourable master who wouldn't dream of bedding his slave just in case said slave didn't like it? Nobody else would have thought twice about it, if they'd wanted to take their slave to their bed. He made the mental adjustment from topping; social expectation aside, there was no way that his master would be in any other position than topping, if Attis had read his expression right. "You wouldn't have me any other way, domine," he said, utterly aware of the double entendre in what he'd just said. Would his master want what he'd offered, or not? @Sara
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