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Sharpie

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  1. Sharpie
    Teutus just gave Alexius a slightly baffled look. Why wouldn't he use slaves? Free people always had an opinion on how things should be done and usually didn't care who heard them saying those opinions. He'd use slaves because that was the way of it, hie own personal feelings on the matter aside - anyway, he was no longer a slave, and given the right opportunities and incentives, any other slave need not remain a slave. They wouldn't get those opportunities if nobody made use of them, either, that should be perfectly obvious. "People - the sort of people I want to sell to - have certain expectations," he added. "I'm sure you understand - and if you prefer to hire free security guards, that would be fine. Just let me know what you need, all right?" The walk to the prospective warehouse wasn't a long one, and when they came in sight of it, Teutus pointed. "There. I'll let you have a proper look around - I presume you'll want to look at the access to it and everything." @Atrice
  2. Sharpie
    "Yes - business is going very well, I'm looking at hiring another ship. The empire is vast and all sorts of goods are needed all over it - and of course so much comes into Rome. All the senators and their wives want the very best, from Egyptian glass to African ivory and spices from the distant east." And maybe amber from the north, as well as silver, lead, copper and gold from Britannia and precious stones from - everywhere. "I've been keeping my own records and everything so far, but I can't keep doing everything if the business is to grow." He would keep some of that Egyptian cotton back for his mother, he thought; she would like that. And maybe some ivory pins for her hair - small luxuries but personal ones. She had never really had anything, being a slave, and he thought her tastes would incline to simpler things - he could not see her decked out in silks and perfumes and weighed down by masses of gold jewellery. One or two refined and elegant things, and no more, where the cost was evident more in the quality of the fabric or the craftsmanship. "I've been living very simply," he added, in case she thought he'd thrown money away on a show of luxury. He'd spent a bit more on clothing for himself, and a more expensive brooch or two for his pallium and cloak - nobody would buy from a supposed luxury importer who dressed like a slave, after all - but even that was with a view to increasing trade and growing his customer base. @Sarah
  3. Sharpie
    Of course the stablehand he'd sent out after any prospective lurkers - or attackers - had come back, a little breathless, with an apologetic look. "There wasn't anyone out there, domine, sorry. I did find this, though." He held out a slave tablet, the wood scored. Marcus recognised it - of course he did; it had Azarion's name on it, and the request to return him to his master at the White stables if he ran away. The cord which allowed it to be hung around a slave's neck was intact, which surprised him a little. He held his hand out for it before dismissing the slave. The medicus had finished bandaging Azarion's arm in the meantime. "He'll need a drink and maybe something to eat, and I'll check on his arm in a couple of days, if that suits?" "Yes, thank you." "At least it wasn't a shipwreck this time. Much more interesting, and much easier to treat - and it'll heal cleanly unless he's careless with it." "He's not going to be careless with it," Marcus said flatly, folding his arms and giving Azarion a level look. "Your face is much too expressive, Azarion," he added, wondering exactly what insults the boy was hurling at him mentally. "Now. I hate playing Twenty Questions, but that's going to be the only way I'm going to manage to get a clear description. So. It was a man. Did you see his face?" @Chevi
  4. Sharpie
    He carefully traced the plaits backwards once she was done, and nodded. "Better. It feels... better," he said, considering. He hadn't had his hair in a braid or plait in eight years, near enough - it had taken the first six months to a year to grow his hair back out to any sort of comfortable length. It didn't feel quite normal but it did feel more like him - or rather, he wasn't used to having any of his hair plaited any more but it did feel much more like himself, even to have that little bit up. "Thank you," he said. "Oh - I wonder." He extracted a glass bead from somewhere about his person; he'd found it almost buried in a flowerbed a while ago and washed it off to discover its vibrant blue colour. "I don't suppose you could thread this in, somehow?" Sarmatians were avid collectors of pretty bits and pieces, which they often incorporated into their braids, or their clothing or even their horses' tack on occasion, and Jason was no different, even now in the palaces of the Roman emperor himself. Adding even one pretty bead would make it feel far more like his own self than he had in years. @Atrice
  5. Sharpie
    Fucking Romans. Marcus swore in Parthian in his head, cursing anyone who'd had a hand in rendering Azarion mute. "There was someone dead, but not today... You found Safinia there." And now he himself was wounded. "Nicandros, in your opinion, how would you say he was wounded? Could that be a scrape from a nail or a sharp scrap of wood, for instance?" The medicus paused in cleaning the wound. "No, it's too clean, not torn - I would say it was a knife or something sharp like a knife." Marcus looked back down at the patient. "Was it a knife?" @Chevi
  6. Sharpie
    Azarion was fretting and not calming down. Marcus took a breath and tried to follow what he was motioning about. "All right, you were out in the alley and you were injured there." He glanced towards that side door again. This was not the first time Azarion had come through that door and demanded his attention, covered in blood. The finger drawn across Azarion's throat confirmed it. "You saw someone there this evening. Someone dead?" He really did not like playing guessing games, especially with a slave, but there was no other way to get information out of Azarion, especially given his current excited state and his injury. "How serious is he hurt, Nicandros?" "It'll sting. He will need to keep the arm clean, so nothing with the horses until it's begun to heal. There will be a scar but nothing worse - I will bandage it and will take another look at it in a day or so, with your permission?" "Of course." Marcus sighed. He would need to keep the boy busy and out of trouble while his arm healed. That wouldn't be a challenge at all... He'd find something, somehow. @Chevi
  7. Sharpie

    Help for Teutus

    Sharpie replied to Sharpie's topic in Men

    Teutus' agentis in rebus (suggested PB is Andrew Scarborough from Rome), this is Teutus' deputy in buying/selling on behalf of the business. He could be a slave (it wasn't uncommon to have a slave in such a trusted position!) but could equally be a freedman or even a pleb hired for the specific purpose of helping Teutus expand his business to buy and sell further afield. His name, personality and background are open to you!
  8. Sharpie
    Marcus stayed by the boy's side - what happened to him was Marcus' responsibility, at the end of the day, despite the hierarchy of the stables that meant Azarion was one of the lowest on the totem pole while Marcus was at the very top. He looked down as Azarion reached out with his uninjured arm, grasping Marcus' own arm with a surprisingly strong grip. He patted the boy's hand. "Don't fret, we'll have a medicus here in a moment, you're perfectly safe now." "Sir?" Marcus turned, to see the faction's medicus. "Ah, Nicandros, your patient is here." "What happened? - no, hold still, let me see. Yes - I'm going to have to stitch it, I think. I'll need more light." Not for the first time, Marcus found himself cursing the idiots who had rendered Azarion mute. How they were going to figure out what had happened was going to be... interesting. @Chevi
  9. Sharpie
    Marcus was doing the rounds of the stables - not a thing he did every evening, but something he liked to do, and at various times of the day, to show that he did pay attention, that corners could not be cut and that he was not aloof and distant but kept an eye on the various comings and goings of the faction. He was talking with the head trainer when the side door opened and someone practically fell through it, landing more or less in a heap. Why that should be was a question that could be answered later. Right now, action was needed. Marcus had automatically moved to see what was going on - he had the ultimate responsibility for everything that went on here, and for the care of the horses and slaves and equipment belonging to the faction. The first thing he noted was that it was the Whites' newest charioteer. It wasn't until he moved the boy to a more comfortable position that he realised there was blood, and immediately turned to one of the onlookers. "Fetch a medicus! You, and you, take him to the refectory." They could lay him down on one of the tables - the evening meal was long over and they wouldn't be disturbing anyone - and there would be room for the medicus to work. "And you! Bring a lantern or two, he'll need light to work by." His orders were hastily obeyed and he glanced around, to see that the door was still open. He indicated yet another bystander. "Take a torch and see if there's anyone out there - this wasn't an accident." @Atrice @Chevi
  10. Sharpie
    "I used to wear my hair... it was all braids, but I didn't pin them back. They came straight down, just as the hair falls naturally," he replied, motioning down each side of his face. "I don't think that would work here but... I don't know if the front part is long enough to have two braids join together behind the head - I could say it was to keep it out of my face, that way." Though he might just be told to get it cut, two small plaits like that would be enough for him without looking horribly barbaric to Roman eyes. Hopefully, anyway. Cynane's hair was much longer than his - well, she could get away with that, being a woman - and was a blond colour he hadn't really seen very much before coming to Rome. Even here in Rome, it was unusual. @Atrice
  11. Sharpie
    His mother would probably need a maid or body-slave once she was freed; if she was amenable to the idea, he had half a mind to inquire about the younger girl who'd been in the same pen as her, doing one of the other's hair when Claudus had shown him around. That was for tomorrow, though - and whether he got her a slave or a free servant (if she preferred), he would definitely have to move them to a bigger house somewhere. Tertius was going to love that! "One step at a time, then," he said in reply, and nodded at her suggestion; it was a good one. Jennus could probably sleep in his room, especially if he was going to employ him as a body-slave too, and that left Olipor in the main room of the apartment, at least for now. 'A few coins' though - he would give his mother as much as she needed, and some for herself as well. Something he had wanted to do for her when he was a child but had never really dreamed he might one day be able to do for real. "I don't think I said what my business actually is, though, Mama," he told her, glancing at her and unable to keep from smiling. Oh, this was going to be a very big surprise, and in the best way - he thought briefly that he'd like to keep it a surprise until she actually saw his warehouse and the good he had in stock, but he didn't really have the patience for that. "I import luxury goods, and I'm looking at expanding." Hence the need for a good clerk and therefore why he'd purchased Olipor. @Sarah
  12. Sharpie
    Oh, his master was sharp-eyed, and observant with it! "Yes, Domine. I thought I recognised one of the charioteers." The back of his master's head and the set of his shoulders gave nothing away and Jason sighed quietly. He'd be questioned until he said everything, probably, so it would be better to say it voluntarily. But he didn't really want to let this Roman in on a private thing, and maybe give him knowledge he could use against Jason later. Not that he had ever seen Tiberius do that sort of thing. But he was still young, and he was a Roman. He took a breath. "I was right, Domine. He was my cousin." @Sarah
  13. Sharpie
    Of course he was going to have slaves, how did Alexius expect him to run the whole thing otherwise? "I meant, that I'd hire labourers by the day as and when I need them. Otherwise, I'll need at least a clerk, and a messenger or runner, hopefully one who's got experience of serving drinks and the like. The sort of people I hope to sell to aren't going to want to buy if I'm the one doing everything, after all." And of course Alexius would be better at beating up any would-be thieves than Teutus would - he could probably break Teutus' arm with one hand, without breaking a sweat. Teutus was trained as a secretary not a gladiator, after all, and had never needed the sort of muscle Alexius sported. Abs like a washboard - he was damn good-looking, under that tunic... "I'm never going to have slaves just for the sake of having them, if that's what you're worried about," he added, clapping Alexius on the shoulder - yes, he was far more solidly built than Teutus was! @Atrice
  14. Sharpie
    "Raetian, Domine, from your friend Calpurnius Praetextatus," the slave put in, once questioned directly. Gaius could swear he was trying not to roll his eyes at his master. "Raetian - that would explain it," he murmured. "And yes, that is a big problem - I don't suppose there's any way of rooting out the collegia if they've got Senatorial support, though you'd think that the senators would rather have a safe city where people would like to be. Quite half of them are slumlords anyway, charging a fortune for a tiny room in some rickety shack in the Suburra that the rats deserted years ago." He wondered if there was any way to change that. Probably not - it might be worth talking to Lucius about, if he thought he could get through a single conversation with his brother without wanting to throw things at his head. He wasn't anywhere near drunk enough to want to contemplate that. @Sara
  15. Sharpie
    "You've confused the vigiles with the Praetorian Guard. Easy mistake to make, on a dark night," Gaius said, holding out his own cup to be topped up from the new jar the dark-haired slave with the scarred forehead had brought in. "I'll tell him, though. What will impress me is, if he manages to reorganise them into a halfway decent force that people don't equate with bullies and murders in back alleys on dark nights. I'll be even more impressed if he makes them effective in catching criminals and actually rescuing people from fires. Do you suppose the Senate will allow him some sort of award if he manages that?" He tasted the new wine. "Mmm. That's not Falernian, though, so what is it? Apart from 'expensive', which is a given." @Sara
  16. Sharpie
    "Oh no. Oh, no, no, no - chaos is my brother's purview not mine. Hence this entire mess in the first place," Gaius said with a wry smile. "I am a paragon of order. Or, well." He shrugged. He was the methodical one of the two of them, bringing order out of chaos. Lucius, on the other hand, was rather good at bringing chaos out of order and leaving confusion and bemusement in his wake. It would have made for a very interesting time had he decided to follow the cursus honorum. Gaius tried to imagine what things would look like if his brother had been put in charge of, say, the grain dole, and failed. "At least the vigiles can't be any more chaotic than they are already, I suppose, so he might even do some good there." @Sara
  17. Sharpie
    "Sometimes talking about things can produce ideas, or clarify our own thinking," Aulus said. "The danger lies in talking too much and not moving to action when action is needed - there needs to be a balance." The young people had a tendency to act without reasoning things through, the old people had a tendency to try to see all sides and all outcomes without ever making a decision to act. Wisdom lay somewhere between those two extremes. Tiberius was right, though; they had spent long enough in conversation for right now - they both had their various duties to return to, after what had been an interesting and enlightening conversation. "Perhaps you would like to come to dinner some time - maybe with your sister. Especially if you are going to accompany me to wherever as my Tribune, it's only right that you should meet my family, and your sister will doubtless like to know the sort of man whose command you'll be under." @Sarah
  18. Sharpie
    "Well, they tried Germania Superior, maybe they'll try there again - after all, didn't Julius Caesar try to come here about a century ago, and fail?" Though Gaius Julius Caesar hadn't lost three whole legions in doing it, so maybe that fact alone removed Germania Superior from contention. "Sarmatia, perhaps? Or whatever it is that's on the other side of Dacia, anyway. Or further south, past Africa." He had only a vague idea of where these places were, precisely, and wouldn't be able to point to any of them on a map with any certainty - not even Britannia! - but they made for good sounding places to toss into this conversation. @Chevi
  19. Sharpie
    Gaius blinked, trying to work out what Ovinia had actually said. "Was that a no, or a maybe, or a not right now?" he asked. He could overlook the insult, whether intended or not; she seemed uncertain of herself and uncertain what she meant. In the meanwhile, she looked half frozen and he reached to take her hands, gently, to chafe some life and feeling back into them. "This is a very bad time and place for all this, I think - you're practically blue with the cold. We are going to head back to where we left our slaves and I am going to send my man for your litter, and you are going to go home, sit by a nice hot brazier with a nice hot cup of wine and thaw out, and we can meet another time, somewhere indoors maybe, or at least a sight warmer, and try to have this conversation in a better frame of mind. Your father isn't going to thank me for returning you frozen to death regardless of what you decide, after all." @Sara
  20. Sharpie
    "Well, he doesn't like me, at any rate," Attis allowed, though he'd done his best to stay out of the man's sight - out of sight, out of mind and all that. It had mostly worked. To a point. "I hate to say it, but I'm rather glad I belong to my master not yours." He couldn't help looking up in surprise as Tranquillus continued speaking. He blinked at that snippet of information. "Well, then. Maybe not a complete bastard, but Florus is absolutely terrified of him - probably thinks he'll get crucified for sneezing or something. I don't know what on earth my master did that convinced him all Romans are terrifying monsters but it seems to have stuck." Poor inoffensive Florus, terrified to put a toenail out of place - and Zia who knew Romans were bastards and was determined to take it out on everyone around her, no matter whether they'd done anything to deserve it or not. Longinus' household was far more peaceful! "He's letting you teach Florus to read and write? I take it back, he's only half a bastard, then. How's Samorix - Florus - doing, learning it?" Latin was an easy enough language to read, at least - writing came with a bit of practise - but that was if you got started at a young age; Attis had had the great good fortune to be taught as a child, maybe because Longinus' father thought he might make a decent secretary when he was older. He was rather glad that he was Longinus' body slave and not his secretary - Vitus had a tough job and Attis wasn't naturally inclined to the methodical way of thinking that a secretary needed. @Chevi
  21. Sharpie
    "It's a dog, in Rome. It's a pet, though I think the senator who gifted it to my master might have hopes it'll destroy the house or at least some of its contents," Attis replied with a grin. "I think it was bred for a wolf-hound originally, though the others of the breed probably got the brains. This one just likes making friends - oh no, you don't, Licky!" The dog had reared up and seemed determined to plant his forepaws on the citizen's chest so he could wash his face. "He'd be a useless guard dog, I'll say that much!" @Chevi
  22. Sharpie
    "I grew up in Paestum in Campania - Hellas Megara* it was, once, I understand," Rufus replied. So he'd been a peregrinus and earned his citizenship with the legions. That certainly explained the cognomen, and the Imperial praenomen and nomen, too. He really couldn't take up much more of the medicus' time and his master would be wondering where he was if he loitered here much longer - and it was going to take longer than usual to make his way back up to the Palatine as it was, too. "Thank you, for your kindness," he said, and braced himself to stand. "I have to get back before my master starts looking for me." @Chevi *Great Greece or Magna Graecia, Greek colonies in Italy established somewhere in the sixth century BC or so
  23. Sharpie
    Tiranês sighed. He could stay and talk with his cousin for hours longer but he could hear people outside the room where they were currently sitting and that meant it was probably time for him to leave and return to the Palatine and his chores there. "I've got to go," he said, reluctant to move. Tiberius would be wanting him, but he didn't want to go, not now that he'd found his cousin alive and well. For a given value of 'well', anyway. He stood up, taking in his cousin's appearance as if trying to fix this new Azarion in his mind (which he was) - the white tunic, the straw in his hair - he always had straw in his hair even when he was a chief's son at home! - the slave tablet and the FVG brand. And the expressive eyes that said everything his mouth couldn't say any more. "I have to go. I'll - I will come back, if I can, when I can," he said. If he couldn't get in, he'd leave a tamga sign outside somewhere, where Azarion would see it and know. @Chevi
  24. Sharpie
    There was a murmured, "Yes, Domine," from the slave standing behind Longinus, who slipped out quietly on his errand, leaving the two men alone. "I have no idea which would be worse, leaving it well alone and allowing my reputation to be dragged into the mud thanks to my brother's actions, or calling attention to it so boldly and..." Gaius shrugged. "Probably the former would be the worst option, at least with the second one, people can say I wasn't afraid to talk about it, to face it." He sighed. "Do you suppose that in the old days, people worried about how their actions and words would be perceived, or did they just... do it and deal with the consequences later?" @Sara
  25. Sharpie
    "I doubt you'll be the only one heckling me," Gaius confessed ruefully. "But at least if I'm prepared for it, and have that sort of thing in mind, I won't get caught on the back foot. I'll have to refine that extempore version, though, I think... 'root out the very worst and reform the city's vigiles from within' or something." He didn't think Lucius honestly had any idea what sort of trouble he'd caused his older brother, and whether or not that was a good thing remained to be seen. "Anyway, you're the one who taught me it's better to tackle a problem head on rather than be caught on the back foot. I doubt anyone in the Senate will expect me to take the bull by the horns and come right out with something like that. Perhaps unprompted would be the best way of going about it." @Sara
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