Sharpie

Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus

(February 78)

Being winter, it was too cold for Horatia to retreat to her usual sanctuary in the garden, but she had a secondary sanctuary where she spent an equal amount of time - perhaps a little more, in the winter. So Aulus came to find her in her own private study, upstairs in the family part of the house, the winter sun coming in through the windows overlooking the garden. He paused in the doorway, quietly watching his beautiful clever wife as she scribbled away in a wax tablet, making notes about something or other, before knocking on the open door, the private pattern of raps used only between themselves.

He smiled as she looked up.

"Working hard, as always, I see," he said. "You've forgotten to have lunch." He stepped aside to allow the house slave who'd accompanied him to enter and set down the tray he was carrying before his master dismissed him.

"It's not like you to forget lunch," he said, settling down on one of the couches set by the wall. "What is it that you've found so absorbing?"

@Sara

Davus

The day had been relatively calm - all slaves expected to be sold and it would be fruitless to fight it. That had been amply proven when a scuffle had broken out, effortlessly stopped by the warehouse slave handlers, and the master proved that he was just as handy with his staff as Davus had suspected he would be as he hooked the ringleader around the neck until he could be subdued properly. Davus wasn't surprised to note that each of the combatants had chalked feet, and rolled his eyes. Barbarians - of course they were too stupid to just submit to their fates. There was no point in fighting it. Better they learned that soon enough.

The twins moved briskly but the journey home was short enough. Davus tried to memorise the route, or as much of it as he could while keeping at a jog and avoiding the people around them. It would take a couple of times traversing it before Davus would be confident in making it alone. It made sense that his new master would live close to his place of work - he lived on the Aventine, in one of the smaller domi. Davus was vaguely familiar with this part of Rome because his old master had friends living in the Piscina Publica and he'd been sent with messages to one or the other on occasion.

The twins stopped outside a door located between a wine shop and a jewellery shop, and Davus briefly committed the location and each shop sign to memory as the master got to his feet. He passed him his staff and followed him inside the house where there were two older slaves waiting in the atrium - obviously Linus had been the master's pedagogus or similar, and Corva was his contubernalis. They looked as if they would be easy to get along with and Davus  gave them a smile and a nod.

It didn't seem as if the master had a body-slave, though. If the twins acted in the role of house slaves here, and Davus was going to learn to read and write, and figure - well, it remained to be seen.

@Sarah

Teutus Quinctilius Varus

"Is there anything else to be checked today, domine?"

"No, I don't think so." Though an idea occurred to him then, but it was a moment before he said anything else. He licked his fingers as he finished his own pastry before speaking again. "There's a jewellery shop I want to look at while we're here."

He'd seen it many times - he had regularly come to the Porticus Liviae while he'd been a slave, either accompanying his master or while running errands for him, and he'd often stopped to look at the shop in question, admiring the workmanship of the various rings, bangles, arm-rings and necklaces. Naturally, he'd never been able to buy anything - even if he had had the money, he had nobody to buy anything for, and could not have worn anything himself. Currently his own jewellery consisted of the gold ring his aunt had presented him with after his manumission, and the fibula pinning his pallium at the shoulder.

He wanted to buy something for his mother, and perhaps for Charis, now that he could.

@Insignia

Jason

There was someone there, who had been squatting or sitting by the wall and who had begun to straighten up as Jason approached, seemingly thinking that he was higher-ranking than he actually was. Although, to be fair, as the body-slave to an Imperial, Jason was about as highly-ranked as it was possible for a slave to be.

He was still a slave, though, something the collar he wore made all too obvious. It had been fastened around his neck years ago, by the man who'd given him to Tiberius, who hadn't trusted him not to run away. Even though Tiberius had said he trusted Jason, he still hadn't had the collar removed... Apparently a Roman trusted his slaves only so far, even if that Roman was Tiberius Claudius Sabucius.

"I don't suppose you've seen a slave or two with an amphora of wine, have you?" he said, drawing closer to the other man. He didn't recognise him and he didn't have the look of a Palace slave. Probably he was here waiting for his own master.

@Faustus

Marcus Eppius Parthenicus

Marcus was more than happy to become a background investor in whatever Vibia was planning; from the appearance of the nearly-nude young men and women scattered around the room, he had rather a shrewd idea what that might be, and if she was planning on purchasing slaves who would be as skilful as she was, then eventually her venture would be a good earner, too. The other Marcus would stand to make more actual money that way than by sponsoring the Whites or any of the other factions, and Marcus would not begrudge him if he chose that course. He already had a mental list of this evening's attendees who would be likely to sponsor the Whites, after all.

He couldn't help having to hide a smile at the way Vibia wound her arm around Azarion. He was not about to pay the price she would command if Azarion wanted to have her, though; that would have to be a free offering from her and Marcus didn't think her likely to offer it. Although, if she was taken enough with Azarion she might, and in that case MArcus wouldn't forbid his charioteer from the pleasure.

He couldn't help wondering if Azarion had had a woman at all since joining the faction.

And the younger Marcus wasn't being at all as subtle as he no doubt thought he was being.

"I would think even a small investment now would be gratefully received," he said, wondering just how far Vibia was likely to push things between Marcus Silanus and Azarion.

Doubtless Azarion would not appreciate being used as a pawn between Vibia and Marcus Silanus. Equally doubtlessly, he would have his own way of making that patently clear; Marcus was used to his expressive nature by now, the young man was still as easy to read as a book.

@Chevi @Sara @Atrice

Attis

Rugam was at least less excitable these days, thankfully, especially now that he was starting to rival a plough-ox in size. Attis led the dog over to where Longinus' guest was sitting - she didn't look as alarmed or nervous about meeting a dog the size of a plough-ox, which was a good thing. If anything, she looked interested, perhaps even a little excited.

"Rugam, sit," he said, and was gratified that the dog immediately plopped down onto his huge haunches.

"Shake hands." The dog lifted a paw the approximate size of a wagon-wheel (well, maybe smaller, maybe the size of a serving-platter!) to Sosia. It had taken quite a while to teach him that trick, and this was the first time Attis had been able to show it off properly.

@Atrice @Sara

Attis

"Spoil her rotten?" He said, coming to join them on the edge of the bed. "Of course I am - you'd kill me if I didn't - and I'm pretty sure Dominus is going to spoil her even more rotten than either of us will. She can consider him her doting uncle or something." He smiled down at his daughter, a faint reddish down on her head, eyes closed as she suckled. "I'm going to be a lousy father, I'm sure of it - but you'll be a wonderful mother." He slid his arm around Metella, encouraging her to lean against him. "We'll figure things out somehow - and really, I can't say I'm sorry Dominus did what he did. He just took me by surprise, it never occurred to me that he might just do it without anyone asking."

@Chevi

Attis

"Yes, Domine," Attis replied, being directly addressed. He couldn't help the quick glance towards where the mistress - the master's mother - was sitting. She didn't have a direct line of sight to Longinus and his young guest, but was within earshot if anything were to happen (and Attis knew his master very well after so long as his body slave; nothing untoward would happen, but he doubted Horatia Sosia knew that).

The deep joyful barking that greeted him when he entered the room where Rugam had been secured would surely be audible from where his master was, and he took hold of the sturdy rope leash, even though he wasn't entirely sure of his ability to hold the dog back if he wanted to say hello to the young lady. Still, he was better behaved than he had been, and knew some tricks now. His head was on a level with Attis' belt and if he didn't want to behave...

"He's friendly," he said, reassuringly as he re-entered the room where Longinus and his guest were. "He's just very big. I promise he doesn't bite or anything."

@Atrice @Sara

(Actual post is on the next page, this can be deleted please, mods!!! No idea how on earth I managed to get a blank post up!)

Gaius Vipsanius Roscius

"I don't know about consul," Gaius said. "I am standing for Aedile, though - but I thought you knew that?" If he was fortunate enough to be elected to one of the two curule aedileships (the only two out of the four aediles who could be patrician rather than plebeian by birth), he would hold that position 'in his year', which would be an achievement in its own right. In three years' time, he could stand for election as a quaestor - but that was for the future and while it was good to think about the future, it was not good to dwell on it to the exclusion of the present.

"You were halfway respectable, and more, before all this lunacy," he said, and looked at his brother. He didn't seem to be regretting his choice, which was something Gaius had worried he might, once he started down that path. "They've made you a centurion - they must be mad. I thought you didn't want any sort of responsibility?"

He'd thought his brother would have hated any sort of responsibility; he'd never shown any sense of it before.

@Chevi

Teutus Quinctilius Varus

Teutus was a little surprised at the small flare of resentment that he felt as he realised that his mother and Charis had more in common than he'd initially realised. He knew they'd both been born free, but it somehow hadn't registered until this moment.

It wasn't their fault, what had happened to them, of course it wasn't... but for each to see a side of the other that he couldn't except on an intellectual level made him feel left out. Well, he was a man, they were women, they had far more in common that excluded him than simply being born free and then enslaved. It wasn't as though he didn't want them to get along, he did. He was being silly, he knew he was, and took a breath, trying to shake the annoyed feeling, managing to return his mother's fond look with a smile.

But if I've found one thing in life, in Rome, it's that pining for what was, and what never will be, only leads to misery.

His mother was right, of course - she was always right about things like that. It was just that it wasn't always easy to hear it, or to do it. Not do it? Either way - and Teutus had a lot that he could be thankful for, even if there were things he would never have. He should be grateful for what he did have... he had his mother, his own business which was doing well, his own home - hopefully he'd be able to move into an actual domus one day, too. He would start looking for what he needed from the people who could give it to him, and stop trying to get it from people who couldn't.

"You have friends too, Charis," he said. "I hope you know that?"

Maybe she would one day count Varinia among her friends too - and he didn't resent that as he had expected he would.

@Sara @Sarah

Jason

Jason had to consider his answer carefully. Yes, Tiberius was worried, but he hadn't expressed that worry aloud directly to Jason - as thoughtful and considerate as he was as a master, Tiberius was still thoroughly Roman. His consideration for Jason conflicted with his thoughts and views on slaves as a whole, at least to some degree, as had been amply demonstrated during their conversation several months previously. Tiberius had so rarely chastised Jason for anything that even the recollection of that slight reprimand still stung.

Had it been anyone else, it wouldn't have stung so much.

"Of course he's worried about you, sir - you're friends, living in the same house and he's hardly seen you recently," he said eventually, his voice quiet and his tone neutral as doubtless Junius Silanus expected any slave to be. He had no doubt at all about how his master's friend viewed slaves, Jason and his own body-slave included.

It was ridiculously easy for him to avoid Tiberius, even both living the same house - the villa was a large one, much bigger than the yurt Jason had lived in with his family at home, and Rome was even bigger.

@Atrice

Attis

As soon as he realised what Longinus was going to do (take Sosia by herself into a room out of view of the master's mother) he'd shifted position so that he could still see them (not that he didn't trust his master, of course he did - but Sosia might appreciate knowing he was there acting as a chaperon even if she didn't know him).

Her questions were genuine and seeing his master smile made him smile in turn - it had been so long since he'd last seen that sort of carefree expression on Longinus' face. He remembered the dog-dragon god thing, whatever it was. The luck of the Ninth, he'd heard it described as, once or twice, whatever the British had called the thing.

His eyes widened as Longinus offered for Sosia to try the torc on - it was hardly the sort of thing a Roman maiden would wear, being entirely barbarian in its origins, but he could see her fascination with it, with trying to picture Britannia where so much of the master's collection had come from. And then Longinus was standing behind her, sliding the heavy twisted golden collar onto her neck. He stepped back hastily, his eyes inadvertently meeting Attis' as he did so, his expression one of... there was such a mix of emotions Attis would be hard-pressed to name any in particular.

But like the good commander he was, Longinus recovered himself, and nobody could see Attis' eyebrows climbing sky-high as he offered the torc to Sosia to keep.

Well, now.

That was something...he'd never offered any of his precious collection to even Sestia before that whole thing went straight to Hades.

The girl was in with a chance - a good chance. Attis could only hope it would all work out this time; he honestly didn't think anyone would be able to bear a third let-down, though better sooner than later. If Sosia wasn't interested in the master as a potential husband, it would be far better for everyone if she said so soon. Like, in the next few days.

@Atrice @Sara

Gaius Vipsanius Roscius

He was silent for a moment, considering - the question was too important to be blasé about, he owed her a proper response. Did it change his opinion of her? Overall, no, he didn't think it did.

"It would have been very easy to have not said anything, especially to someone you don't know very well at all," he said eventually, speaking slowly. "And of course there are those who would ultimately blame you for being somewhere where that could happen - you don't know that I'm not one of those people, so that's even more reason for you not to have said anything. But things happen - if we all knew what bad things were going to happen, we wouldn't go into certain places, or speak to certain people or whatever. So, I don't blame you for being somewhere and ending up attacked out of the blue by someone. But it does change my opinion of you - no, hear me out," he added, hastily, holding up a hand. "I thought you were an honourable woman and now I find you are even more so, in confessing something that you could easily have kept quiet about, that might paint you in a bad light. I thought you were a strong woman, and now I find you stronger than I thought, to carry such a thing and not to have succumbed to nerves."

He leaned forward, looking at her. "Whatever people around you may say, the victim is so rarely to blame for an unprovoked attack. My opinion has changed, but only because telling me of this has shown me that you are a strong, a fearless woman. Does that answer your question?"

@Atrice

Davus

Davus took the wax tablet held out to him and quietly stepped out of the line, keeping behind the man so that he wouldn't be in the way but would be close enough to hand the tablet back when it was wanted. He was used to accompanying his former mistress when she went shopping and this was very little different to that, overall - there was the same need for him to be attentive to what was needed and when.

It was a little awkward, perhaps, being the one to have been chosen out of all the others and seeing them go off to different places, whether that was for sale now or later or to one of the labouring gangs. They were all used to life as possessions, but of course it was never easy to face up to the reality of it, and he managed a much-needed encouraging smile more than once, silently, from behind his new master's shoulder. The warehouse here was clean and tidy, the slaves cared for, which was far far better than the average slave dealer bothered about. Hopefully a man who put so much effort into how he kept his wares would also have an exclusive clientèle - though that didn't necessarily mean much when it came to how his buyers treated their slaves.

Anyway, such was life, and the day wore on. The slaves were fed and bedded down, the sale records and other wax tablets secured and Davus follwed his new owner outside. There was a carrying chair there, with a matched pair of slaves by it - Davus had seen them throughout the day, fetching and carrying and doing other odd jobs, although it seemed their primary function was to act as bearers for the master's carrying chair. He had no idea where 'home' was now, but apparently it was further than the master cared (or would be able?) to walk, especially after a long day.

Romulus and Remus... well, that was different from Castor and Pollux, he supposed, nodding his own greeting in return. He wasn't quite sure how they would deal with the master's staff, but they obviously had some method of dealing with it. He likewise wasn't sure where the master  wanted him and settled for a position behind and to the right, where he would be out of the way but to hand.

@Sarah

Teutus Quinctilius Varus

"Isn't it unfortunate, that what we are born as dictates everything about who we are and what we do."

Teutus couldn't help giving a rueful nod. "It is what it is, unfortunately, and we have to work within the constraints society puts on us." He rested the winecup he was holding on the arm of his chair, thinking. "Charis - you can call her my father's concubine if you like... I don't think she held a high status in Britannia, although I get the impression their society is much flatter than ours. Simpler, or something."

And eminently barbarian in its simplicity - Teutus was a true son of Rome even if he did like pretty, young, naive Charis.

"I think she was the wife of a tradesman, I don't know if she was involved in doing most of the trading for him." He thought she'd said her husband was a blacksmith or something, which meant he was a skilled craftsman, and she had shown a natural talent for reading and numbers that Teutus appreciated.

He gave Ovinia a far less rueful, more genuine smile. "I think though, when all is said and done, that you and I are far better off being Roman than living the life of some barbarian out in the wilds of the gods know where, don't you agree?"

@Sara

Teutus Quinctilius Varus

"Freedwoman or plebeian - let's be honest, it's unlikely even an equite will want to be linked to my father's family if it means marrying a freedman." Roman fathers could be extremely particular about who their daughters married because marriage was so tightly bound up in ideas of family alliances and the like. Even if Teutus' children would be full citizens and able to partake in political life, he himself couldn't. "I have to be a realist about it, Ovinia Camilla. It doesn't matter who my father is, not really, when my own status is as a freedman and his illegitimate son."

Tertius had made promises for so long, and now he didn't even need to make those - he had acknowledged a son who was technically the same status as Teutus but whose life would play out very differently, and Teutus knew that he could not live in the realm of 'what if' . He had to be practical and pragmatic about things, which had led to starting his business, leaving his father's house and would contribute in no small part to his own marriage.

"It is what it is, and we shall see." He supposed there might be an equite family willing to overlook his own social status if it meant linking themselves with gens Quinctilia, but it was unlikely and he couldn't rely on finding that one family when making his plans.

@Sara

This was good, this was... She was young, but that was to be expected of course. But she was talking to Longinus and curious about where he'd been and what he'd seen and... Longinus wouldn't think that was a bad thing, would he? But she was curious, openly so - she seemed an open sort of person (yes, that went hand-in-hand with being naive which was part of the fact she was young), but Longinus was an open sort of person, or he had been. Having someone so openly curious could only encourage him, surely? He wouldn't want the sort of young lady who'd hide the curiosity and pretend she was above all that - Attis was more than sure that his master didn't like pretence and fakery. Whether he liked this complete absence of those things remained to be seen. She was showing an interest in him, though, and surely, surely, he would respond to that.

Attis could only hope and pray, silently imploring Juno and Venus that this might work out somehow - and if not this match, then some match, and soon. A depressed and morose Longinus meant that there was something horribly wrong with the world.

@Sara @Atrice

Teutus Quinctilius Varus

"High maintenance?" Teutus said over the rim of his cup, one eyebrow lifting in a way that exactly mirrored the way his father's did, although he was completely unaware of the similarity to his father's expressions. "Surely not - although even if you are, isn't that allowable, even expected, of a Senator's daughter?"

He couldn't help thinking back to the awkwardness of their very first meeting, an awkwardness engendered by the fact he knew he was supposed to court Ovinia despite their unsuitability for one another. If there hadn't been that expectation - at least on his father's part - that conversation would have been far less awkward. Still, they seemed to be making up for that now.

"I'm sorry, I thought I had answered your question. No, there isn't anyone, at least not at the moment. I'm able to pay the tax, anyway." He would have to start looking, he supposed, although he didn't think that any candidates he thought suitable would meet his father's standards, and even as a freedman and illegitimate son, Tertius was still his patron and paterfamilias with right of veto over Teutus whether he chose to exercise it or not.

"I don't suppose your father has any nice single freedwomen amongst his clients?" he added lightly. Tertius didn't - the only ex-slaves he had in his own familia were Teutus himself and Charis, who he'd claimed himself as a concubine.

@Sara

Gaius Vipsanius Roscius

Lucius wasn't his headache to deal with any more. He just had to remind himself of that and keep reminding himself of that... But how on earth did Lucius manage to needle him even when he wasn't Gaius' headache to deal with now?

"Cooking is for slaves," he said once he was able to manage to speak with equilibrium. "Apparently even the vigiles haven't been able to instil that into you. So much for that hope." He looked his erstwhile brother up and down. "How is life among the plebiscite treating you, then? And do I need to send my body slave's recipe for a headache cure to your new paterfamilias?"

@Chevi

Davus

Well... that was unexpected. Davus caught himself a fraction before he would have met the taller man's eyes.

"I'll do my best, sir."

The implication wasn't lost on him: Learn, or return here and be sold to someone else. He didn't know how hard or easy it would be to learn to read and write, but children managed to do it and he was familiar with the overall concept, at least.

He had no intention of coming back here (or to any other slave market) yet again, at least as far as it was in his own power to avoid it - and if not coming back here depended on being able to learn to read and write, he would do his very best to learn. He could only hope that he would be given a good chance to learn, but that was out of his control.

@Sarah

September 77

Having an ex-brother no longer living in the same house couldn't be the same as having a brother living in the same house. Despite his better instincts, Gaius did miss his brother, although he didn't in the slightest miss the chaos that perpetually swirled around him like dust around a traveller in summer.

So, in order to catch up with Lucius (and remind himself that no, he really didn't miss his brother's brand of chaos in the slightest!), he had invited his brother to dinner. A private meal, just the two of them, the way they had used to share meals before Lucius' whole adoption and everything else. Despite the adoption meaning that they were no longer brothers in the eyes of the law, he still felt a responsibility for Lucius... and dammit, yes, Lucius was his brother, the perpetual thorn in the side he had always been. He loved Lucius despite himself.

Things were set out neatly in the triclinium, and Gaius could console himself that at least this time he knew Lucius hadn't had a hand in any of the food preparation, getting in the slaves' way and upsetting the smooth running of the house.

Gaius picked his cup up and sat back in his seat, giving her time to collect her thoughts together. She seemed very composed... which, when she came out with it, was rather surprising. He would have thought that a woman, attacked and hurt by a man, would have been an emotional wreck, needing comforting. Not Pinaria, apparently.

And immediately straightened back up to put the cup down again, concerned for her.

"I see," he said, mostly to give himself a moment to marshal his thoughts. "He didn't, uh... Just..." He took a breath, feeling he'd made a hash of it. "I'm sorry, please let me try that again. He just cut you - are you all right now?"

She seemed all right, very calm and poised, not at all the reaction he would have expected - though doubtless some of that lack of reaction was due to her maturity. Though she hadn't said when it happened, either - it could have been years ago.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

"That's a nice name," he said. He'd always been Attis, always - it wasn't an uncommon slave name, after all, and there were worse things to be called. Though not many things could be worse, really, than getting named for the castrated priest of an eastern goddess. He'd always thought it one of the more bizarre ways someone could show their undying devotion... a downright idiotic way, indeed.

"If she grows up to be half as pretty as you, she'll have every boy in Rome swearing their undying love for her," he managed, smiling at them both. They were the perfect picture of, well, whatever a mother and her child were a picture of.

@Chevi

"Dominus usually means well," Attis admitted, reaching for his belt. He looked up from fastening it, curious. "Is that how you do it, then - name a child when you know what they're going to be like?" As if Metella could remember that, she'd only been a kid herself when she'd entered Longinus' household. Which put her at something like six years younger than Attis himself. Not a big difference, overall.

"I don't think I've ever asked, and you can tell me to mind my own business but... What was your name, back in Britain?"

She was holding their daughter so would be unlikely to throw a pillow at him, but he prepared to duck or catch anyway.

@Chevi