Sharpie

It felt... decidedly odd, to be walking into this insula (well, for him to walk into any insula would be odd, seeing as he didn't live in one!) when he wasn't here for some meeting of the ragtag detective bunch... they'd found their man, and he was safely in a dungeon in the Tullianum awaiting Caesar's pleasure, and hopefully some extremely hungry animals or something. There were a number of people in the courtyard already when he came in. He didn't recognise anyone at first - there was a dark-haired woman, and a young man of about his own age - and then he spotted Azarion sitting on a bench at a table, and the gladiator (or ex-gladiator) Alexius, who'd given him such a heart-stopping moment that first night he'd got tangled up with the investigators. Well, no, that wasn't strictly true. The first time he'd heard anything about it was when he'd been summoned to translate Azarion's signs for his master after Azarion had had a run-in with the bastard. He came in, half-expecting to be chased off - surely they wouldn't want a couple of nondescript slaves dropping in on their party? It wasn't as though he could think of anywhere else to be instead, though. "Morning," he said to the gathering in general and Azarion in particular. @Sarah @Atrice @Chevi (and @Sara and @Sains if Dids and Decimus are dropping by, too - and anyone else who wants to come by the party insula...)

Teutus wasn't going to rush this choice - he didn't know whether Jannus had ever had a free choice about anything before, and there was no need to rush him into choosing something. There was a difference between being a senior slave in a large household, as Teutus had been, and being one of only four slaves in a small household - or at least, Teutus thought there must be. He didn't know Jannus' history or what sort of household he had previously been in, but being one of four meant that he could have a much greater share of Teutus' personal attention than a skivvy in a senator's much larger house would expect from his master. He wasn't entirely surprised to find that he was enjoying watching the other look at the selection and come to a decision - Teutus liked encouraging people, teaching them, helping them grow. Or rather, he'd liked that part of his relationship with his sister, and later with Charis and it was not much of a shock to find he liked it with Jannus too. "That's a good choice," he said, noting the selection. "You'll need a stylus to go with it - could we see some of your styli?" "Bronze or iron, sir?" the proprietor asked, already beginning to tidy the other tabulae away. "Some of both - and not the rubbish ones you're planning to have remade," Teutus said. His own stylus, which he'd kept from his time as his father's secretary, was a bronze pen with a twist detail to it, and fit comfortably in his hand. "I have copper too," the proprietor said, bringing a selection over and spreading them out. @Insignia

"I very much intend to," he told her, lifting his cup again as she unfastened the ties at her shoulders, which allowed the sheer silk of her gown to slip down, catching at her waist. The figure revealed to him was exquisite - as of course it was, she was the prize of the Domus Venus. "You are a sight to behold - only the goddess Venus herself would outshine you," he told her and reached to encourage the fabric the rest of the way down. "Praxiteles himself would be pleased to have you model for him." She could very easily be a model for a statue in the style of the famed Aphrodite of Knidos, he thought. He was not here merely to look at her, though, and quickly unfastened his own belt. His tunic was just as quickly discarded over the couch. @Sara

Jason was here to attend on his master, which meant that his attention was supposed to be inside the Imperial Box on the young man seated below the Augustus and the goddess to whom this festival was dedicated. He didn't really know much about Roman customs, except that there were ceremonies and festivities in her honour among the farms where he'd spent his first years as a slave - not that he'd really paid much attention to anything Roman back then without the threat of the lash. But the Romans were finally holding a proper horse race in the proper manner, with mounted riders (although he couldn't see a single shred of evidence that anyone knew anything about stirrups - more fool them!). He spotted his cousin in the lineup and relaxed, although he squeezed his hands together where they were folded in front of him - Azarion was on a horse, as he had been born to be. Nobody stood a chance against a Sarmatian born to the saddle - even if the Sarmatian didn't have stirrups. Azarion, as well as Jason, could ride bareback without them - although given the choice, he was sure his cousin would have added them. It was an advantage none of the others had - none of them, Jason was sure, had ever been on a horse in their infancy. If he had any money - if gambling was allowed in this uncivilised hellhole! - Jason would lay every as on Azarion. @Atrice @Sara @Chevi @Sarah and anyone else!!

"He's charging you because they're early strawberries," Rufus said, a little startled (but not displeased) that she took his arm. He was obviously a slave - and anyway, the stall-holder had just pointed him out as being a slave. "Probably other people have strawberries too." His friend Didia might well have, in fact, but her stall was halfway across the city and partway up the Esquiline (or at least, he thought it was, considering where they had met for their illicit exploration that time). "I doubt the Imperials even care," he added, the words meant for her alone - it was very easy to whisper into her ear considering their unplanned proximity to one another. "Why don't you let my friend have her strawberries and I will send the next Imperial slave who needs to buy produce to you?" he offered, at which the stall-holder seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. @Chevi

"Of course - it's fragile, though, so you'll need somewhere to display it where it won't run the risk of being knocked to the floor." He sat back, smiling, glad she liked the offering. Jewellery was predictable, and although this was only their second ever meeting, he could not say that she struck him as liking predictability. Doubtless all her friends swooned over the same gladiator and went to the same baths, the same shops and the same temples on the same days every week. Ovinia Camilla was a breath of fresh air... If they hadn't been so thoroughly unsuited for one another thanks to their respective social ranks, he would have happily married her and given her a life that was somewhat less same old same old than her friends'. He named a price. "I will have it delivered with the wool, unless you would prefer to take it with you now?" She had arrived in a litter, she could probably find room for the straw-stuffed crate, which wasn't really all that big. @Sara

"I like him too, Domine," Attis said, aiming a wink at the new slave. "I'm pretty sure I can give as good as I get." He hadn't yet met the slave who could put him in his place - he knew his place intimately, after all, especially after that unscheduled stay at Sulpicius Rufus'. Though that reminded him of the Dacian, Zia, who'd come the closest Attis had ever known to actually matching him in the battle of wits, apart from Longinus himself, and Metella. "We wouldn't want Vitus to murder you, Domine - life would be so boring without you in it," he said. "Bedroll, Metella and Cassia it is. And have you had anything to eat since you arrived?" he added, stepping sideways to actually be able to see the other man without Longinus in the way. @Mobius @Sara

He needed both hands to support his son, who was not interested in trying to put any weight at all on his feet, and couldn't clasp Horatia's hand. She hadn't asked such a thing of him - wouldn't have - yet it was such an easy thing to offer. He wondered momentarily how many women would take that offer up - approaching an ex-consul would be as much as most of them would dare. Although the women of the Aventine weren't exactly shrinking violets, and probably neither were women from anywhere else in the city. "I would like to hear about the progression of your idea, even if you don't need advice," he told her, finally giving up and letting Quintus sit down, which meant he could spare a hand to squeeze Horatia's shoulder. "No, he hasn't - although I hope that, whoever she marries, she will have as happy a marriage as ours." He wondered, for an instant, if he could maybe suggest Horatia's brother Publius as a prospective husband, although it might be a little soon for him to consider remarrying since the death of his wife in childbirth. Aulus did not have the words to express his thankfulness that Horatia had survived her own ordeal. @Sara

"Glass can be expensive - but you know that," Teutus said. She was a Praetor's daughter, her father could doubtless afford such things - and when she married, no doubt her husband would be able to afford them for her in his place. "I may have just the thing," he added. Syrian and Egyptian glass was highly prized and naturally he had included some in shipments from the eastern parts of the empire. It took a few moments before a small crate, packed with straw, was brought in and placed on Teutus' desk and the key to the secure storeroom was returned to him. He opened the crate and carefully removed a double-handled vase in blue glass with splashes and whirls of red and white in it. He set it upright on the desk and let Ovinia examine it. @Sara

He let his mother talk. She paused at one point to draw a shaky breath, which made him twist to look at her, feeling a pang as he saw the tears in her eyes. He reached to wipe them away. "I've upset you, I'm sorry," he said, only to fall silent again as she continued talking. "I did tell him, once," he said, once she finished and silence fell again. "At least, I said a lot of things, only... I was rather upset at the time." He tried to think back to recall exactly what he'd said at that disastrous dinner, once Wulfric and Charis had made their exits. "I don't think you want to know what I said," he confessed. "I think I told him that he still treats me like a slave and makes me guess what he wants. I did say I wanted him to be proud of me, not just just what I do." He shrugged. "I don't think he knows how, though. Well. That's not true." He sighed again. "I was there when he took Charis' baby up, you know. And he - he's never looked at me the way he looks at Peregrinus." He twisted a bit to see his mother's face. "I think that's what hurt, more than anything. But I've got you, now." At least he had one person, now, who cared about him for his own self rather than the value of the work he did. @Sarah

He missed Antonia; he'd missed a lot of her life over the last two years. It would be nice to show her what he was doing now, and to hear what she was doing. He couldn't help wondering if they would end up floundering a bit, though, because he'd been a slave and her tutor for most of her life. How would they get along now that she was so very nearly an adult and he was free? One thing was certain, he loved her deeply and always had done, despite their very different lives. They would always be brother and sister, however that worked out. Right now, though, he had his father here, and he found that he wanted to show off - not in a boastful sort of way but in the way any son wanted to show his father, to demonstrate why his father could be proud. "It can be a bit awkward not to just deal in one thing, sometimes," he said, leading the way back out into the warehouse itself. "But it's better to have a variety, and not to have everything come in from the same place at the same time." He didn't deal in foodstuff with the exception of some spices at certain times. Some goods took up more space than others and he left the bulky things to others. He wouldn't trade in slaves or livestock, either, leaving that to people who had the space and security for that. "I still have olive oil, but that's kept at the smaller warehouse," he added. This was the second warehouse he'd rented, once he'd begun to diversify. His initial experiments in trade had been in olive oil and he had only rented this warehouse once he was sure he could make a proper go of the business. "Right now, we have wool from Spain, cotton and linen from Egypt - mostly unspun, though there are bolts of cloth ready to be sewn into clothing," he said, indicating various sacks. "I've got lead from Britannia, and some silver - not too much of that because I don't have contracts with any of the mine owners there, not yet." @Atrice

Well, the conversation had turned completely around from the implied question of whether or not Jason would run away, and the complicated set of emotions that had stirred Tiberius earlier when Jason had said that running away would be dishonourable. He had meant what he'd said, and the whole conversation had become something Jason could never have anticipated. He somehow thought that Tiberius hadn't anticipated it, either. "Can I ask about your tattoo?" Not the invasive sort of question of earlier - Where did you go the other day? but Can I ask...? "Yes," he said. It was two questions in one, really, and he continued. "Among my people, we celebrate certain acts and feats - a man's first kill, for instance." He indicated the inked wolf on his right arm, before moving his hand back to his neck. "This is because I recognised the members of a returning hunting party before anyone else did - when you live in a place where the horizon encircles you, keen eyesight is prized, after all." "Stirrups are those foot-hook things, aren't they?" "Yes," he replied, and couldn't help laughing. "No! No more than you get tangled up when you walk around wearing a toga, Domine! Probably less, even - there's a strap from the saddle, and a plate to rest your foot on. How do you think peoples like the Sarmatians and the Parthians can be such good archers when they ride? The stirrups help a rider to be more secure in the saddle with less effort - I'll show you, if you don't mind me giving the stable master fifty fits!" Tiberius wanted to ride like a Sarmatian. Jason would do his level best, though he was coming to it properly years too late - but he could already sort of ride, which would only help. He would have to wear braccae, though; even the short trousers the soldiers wore would help with the chafing. And speaking of soldiers, here were the Praetorians, looking like sacks of flour or worse. He couldn't help wincing. "Can we give the horses their run now, Domine?" @Sarah

"Brothers can be irritating, can't they," Gaius observed, looking in the direction his own had gone in. He had not previously considered marrying a widow or a divorcee, but now that he was considering it, it seemed a sensible course to take. She was known to be fertile - more, she was the mother of a healthy son. She had been a widow for more than a year, thus fulfilling that requisite already - any children she bore after a marriage (to Gaius or anyone else) would be proven to be her new husband's children. What was not to like? "I don't want you to think I'm rushing ahead like a fool," he said slowly, returning his attention to the lady. "After all, this is only the first time we've met, and this is our first conversation. But do you think you would object if I were to approach your brother and make that proper offer?" After all, there were many, many marriages where the husband had met the wife's father and made arrangements before meeting the wife. Gaia at least had the advantage of having already met him. And the thought of the tradition vow made him smile; it would be nothing but the bald truth in their case. ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia - indeed wherever he was Gaius, she would be Gaia... @Atrice

Teutus was more serious than he thought he'd realised. His mother had spent a good deal of time preparing food for today, and it was only her cajoling that had made him promise that he would join the party in the courtyard. Perhaps he was more like his father than he knew - Tertius was always so serious and rarely took part in the more frivolous celebrations. He gave Jannus, Olipor and Proserpina the day to themselves, and some spending money, and offered the same to Amandus, who shook his head shyly, seeming to prefer to stay in the environs of the insula, though he was not slow to take the silver sestertius Teutus offered. Teutus had initially draped his pallium around himself but then decided to set it aside and join the others in just his tunic, perhaps trying to recapture some of the more lighthearted aspects of his younger self. It was an informal occasion, after all, there was no need for the formality of his usual dress these days. So it was with the youngest member of the household in tow, and wearing the new tunic his mother had made for him that Teutus made his way to the courtyard, to find his mother and Alexius there already, and a young man he had seen in passing once or twice. @Sarah @Chevi @Atrice

It was an act, of course, but it was a good act - she wouldn't be one of the most highly sought-after courtesans the house had to offer if she wasn't good, after all. His belt slipped loose, almost unheeded. "Well," he said, letting his hand trail up the white skin of her thigh before slipping it round to the front a little more, "there are some very interesting temples to Venus in some other parts of the empire." He set the goblet of wine down and cupped her breast with his newly freed hand. "But then, there are some beautiful temples to the goddess right here," he added. @Sara - I am so sorry it's been so long!!!

"Do you see anyone from the Palatine walking down here for your strawberries specifically?!" Rufus couldn't help overhearing the fierce debate between the stall-holder and a young woman with skin the colour of fresh wheat bread, whose hair was a cloud of dark frizz. The stall-holder pointed to him over the girl's shoulder with a smirk. "There's a slave from the Palace, so..." "I'm not buying strawberries, though," Rufus pointed out, drawn into the debate against his will. "You might as well let her have them, and you're over-charging, again." It was probably because they were early strawberries, to be fair; the stall-holder likely only had to hold her off for a short while in order to be able to sell the fruit to some snooty house-slave of some ancient balding senator. Why shouldn't the girl get there first and deprive the fat old bastard of the first ripe strawberries of the summer? It wasn't as though he'd particularly notice their presence among all the other exotic food at his banquet, after all. @Chevi

"It sounds admirable - and I shall handle whoever you need me to, my dove." Horatia knew that, of course. He lifted Quintus, trying to encourage his son to stand on Aulus' legs, with his father's hands holding him up. "If you have any women come to you who have no male relatives of age, and nobody else to speak for them, and nowhere else to turn, I will act on their behalf for whatever legal needs they have. Only please don't bring me fifty at once!" He looked down at the top of his wife's head. Her hair was worn in a simple plait pinned up over her head, and the sunlight burnished it, making it gleam like a crown. "Claudia Caesaris is still unmarried," he said thoughtfully. "You can ask, but I would keep her away from anything to do with the prostitutes who will inevitably turn up - I am not sure whether her head of house is her brother or Titus Augustus, but either of them will veto it if they hear she's mixed up in something they don't approve of. They're both good sensible young men, though, so I see no reason why they would veto it." Horatia was a sensible woman, as was Calpurnia Praetextata; they would present their cause in suitable terms such that neither young man would stop Claudia joining them if she wanted to. @Sara

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Jason said. "I've been... busy. How about you?" Busy was an understatement, really - between helping a disparate random collection of (mostly) citizens catch a killer, teaching Tiberius how to work with horses in the Sarmatian fashion (and working with one of the most incredibly beautiful and intelligent horses he'd ever met). It was still beyond astonishing that he was able to ride Ignis himself, even, if he wanted to when Tiberius didn't need him. Not that he'd had much opportunity to do so, really, as a large amount of his limited free time had been spent with the ragtag bunch of citizens who were trying to catch a killer. They had succeeded, eventually, more by luck than anything and the bastard was now safely incarcerated in the Tullianum, somewhere in a hole in the ground. He could rot there, for all Jason cared, though part of him was looking forward to seeing him torn apart by wild animals or something, maybe at the Cerealia celebrations next month. "I think my master and your mistress are going to be a while, shall we find somewhere to talk? Unless you think Claudia might need you?" There was a courtyard garden nearby, where they could talk in relative privacy and yet still be within call if needed - even Tiberius' usual quiet summons would be heard there. @Atrice

Davus was observant, mostly from habit and self-interest - it was always a good idea to know what was going on around you and how it affected the master, after all. The man who was in charge here was tall for a Roman, with a horsey sort of face marked by frown lines across his brows. He used what appeared to be a shepherd's crook to support himself - the limp was noticeable - and Davus didn't like to think how else that stick might be used. Despite appearances, though, he didn't seem to be a brutal sort of man, nor to allow brutality from those who worked under him, unlike some Davus had witnessed in the slave markets of Greece. They had been lined up and the dealer himself was making his way down the line, asking questions of each of them - which made sense, he supposed. He'd want to know their skills and everything, after all. Eventually, he was standing in front of Davus, who did not have to look too far down in order not to meet his eyes, the citizen's chin being about level with Davus' eyes if he was looking straight ahead. He lowered his eyeline to the neck of the other's tunic anyway. "What did your dominus call you?" "Davus, sir," he said, and fell silent, uncertain of the man's temperament and unwilling to do anything to irritate or annoy him. @Sarah

March 77AD It was three months since Jason's master had moved to the villa situated within the Gardens of Sallust. Three months since Jason had really had much contact with any of the Palace slaves. It was a bit of a strange feeling, coming back to a place that had been home... Well, no, not 'home' per se, but more... familiar territory, the place where he'd lived, spent his daily life... Tiberius had come to visit his sister, who had stayed in the Domus Augustorum (probably, Jason suspected, because she knew that Tiberius and his friend, being young men, needed their own space. Not that Titus Augustus didn't, but the sprawling Palatine complex was rather bigger than the Villa of Sallust, and that wasn't exactly small). The Palatine complex easily rivalled any of the villages Jason had ever visited before his capture. He wondered if he could make his way to the stables; it had been a little while since he had been there, and he suspected it would be some time before Tiberius needed him. The corridors and courtyards of the Palatine were familiar to him, but he hadn't got far before he saw a familiar blond woman, and changed his plans. The horses would keep, it was equally long since he'd really been able to chat with the woman he had exchanged blood with, his blood sister. "Cinnia!" @Atrice

July 77AD It was a season of change - not in the weather, but in the household of one Titus Sulpicius Rufus, who had been appointed to a position in the east, in Judea. It meant upheaval in the household - his wife and children were going with him, and his secretary and body slave, and some others. But not the majority of the household slaves - transporting all of them would be difficult and expensive and there were surely slave markets in Judea where he could outfit his new quarters, whatever they were. So the house in Rome was to be shut up, or left under the auspices of the master's father, or something. Slaves' gossip was not entirely accurate when it pertained to things, and what was pertinent was that the majority of the household slaves were to be disposed of. It didn't matter whether they had been in the house seven years or seven days, they were surplus to requirements. Which was why, eight years after entering the house, Davus had left it for the last time and now found himself for sale for a sixth time. The warehouse was clean and tidy, the slaves provided with a good hard-wearing tunic (if they hadn't come with their own), and the guards not rough brutes as many slave-dealers would have used. It was a small enough thing to be grateful for in a world of swirling uncertainty about the future, and yet Davus was grateful for it, for the master's final kindness in choosing a dealer who wasn't a brute - of course he wanted to maximise his profits, but there were so many slave dealers in Rome. He went where he was told, keeping his mouth shut and his head down, despite the frantic whirl of thoughts and prayers that he might find himself in a good place, with a good master. @Sarah

You look after yourself. We'll be here when your inspiration comes back and your folks find themselves back in Rome!

"I..." He was about to outright refuse his father's help, yet again, but something stopped him. He would not be an ungrateful son. If his father really didn't know any other way to show affection, it would be horrible of Teutus to refuse the affection he did show, and he had promised his mother he would try better, try to meet his father halfway. "I would appreciate that," he said, instead. Homes on the Esquiline weren't necessarily easy to come by, after all, and he'd already hurt his father once by moving out into an insula. Three rooms had felt palatial to him when he'd moved in, but now that his household had expanded to six people, three rooms was a little cramped. "I don't need anything huge, it's just mother and me, and four slaves. Not a Senatorial household." He would keep the place private, too, as far as he could. Family and friends, but he would conduct business elsewhere - he had his office at the warehouse for things like that, after all, and didn't need to advertise where he lived. He didn't know why he was surprised to hear that Antonia missed him. "I would like to show her - and she's a senator's daughter and my sister, of course I will make sure my guards don't treat her badly." He'd have words with them - and would keep her away from them anyway. And maybe they could go out and explore Rome as they had used to do when he was still her tutor, before he'd been freed. He glanced at his father's wine cup. "If you've finished your wine, would you like to see around, yourself?" @Atrice

"It always feels like guesswork, with Father. He won't come right out and say what he's thinking, or what he wants, or anything." Teutus shrugged. "I suppose I'm tired of it - it's exhausting. And then if you get it wrong, or not right enough..." And he'd rather give things when Teutus would prefer time or words of approbation. "Yes, he did." He might have wanted to make amends for Teutus' not being able to have the life and career Tertius had wanted for him, but the way he was going about it felt off in some indefinable way that Teutus couldn't quite put a name to. It was almost as if he was trying too hard with material things because that was all he knew, or something. He twisted his head to look at his mother before relaxing again. "We haven't had each other for so long, I'd be quite happy for you run the house forever. At least, right now. Maybe if I marry that will change - but I will always have room in my house for you, Mama. I promise. And I'm not going to try to run your life for you - you can marry, or not, however and whoever you please." @Sarah

"Who, Metella or Cassia, Domine?" 'She' could mean the cat's mother as far as Attis was concerned, but was more likely refer to either the young mistress or Attis' better half. He should probably have listed Cassia first but oh well. "It's different, Cassia will love being the only one among her friends to have a gladiator. Maybe it'll start a fashion?" First a battle dog (in Rugam) and now her very own tame gladiator. Even injured, he could probably teach her the rudiments of how to defend herself - such a shame they lived in a society where that might be needed. He leaned to look around Longinus apologetically. "I could show him the rest of the house if you'd like, Domine?" he suggested, straightening up again. There were good and bad points to being shown around by the master rather than one of the slaves, and Longinus surely had paperwork he ought to get back to - or get back to pretending he cared about, or something. @Mobius @Sara