Liv

It was rather entertaining to see confusion written all over Longinus' face, then realisation as he understood he was being tricked. A small victory, but not worth celebrating: there was business to take care of and more battles of words to be fought, no doubt. Titus felt the blood in his veins boil at Longinus' little jab, but he willed himself to keep a cool face. His friend was clearly looking for a reaction to see if he'd struck a nerve, and in a way he was right - this sort of task that involved long journeys did make him feel like the proconsul's courier. But Titus would not give him that satisfaction, quite the opposite: he would own that title. He'd be the proudest Roman errand boy in the whole island. "He would, thank you very much, legate Praetextatus," Titus nodded agreeably at Aulus. "It's good to know that at least one officer here still abides by Roman manners, whereas the other-" he gave Longinus the side eye, "-probably wishes he was frolicking around with the natives, covered in blue paint and partaking in human sacrifices." Not waiting for another invitation, Titus sat down on a folding stool and let his arms drop onto his lap, one hand holding the cup; his expression, though, was still as serious as ever. "As much as legate Longinus enjoys my company, I do wish we could have been far apart. Londinium is the backwater shithole of a capital it is, but it's still more comfortable than this tent." Neither place could said to be luxurious, but bricks and stones did a better job at providing shelter from the wind and rain than a tent, however sturdy it was purported to be. "Anyway, your favourite errand boy is here to find out who in this camp has been fucking with the treasury. Your spoils of war aren't adding up, lads." Even the less bright of soldiers should know that messing with what was ultimately their payroll and retirement fund all-in-one was a supremely idiotic idea, but greed tended to override common sense... And at least one greedy fellow in camp had had a nice scheme going on, but they'd grown either careless or comfortable, and so the error was discovered. Newly enslaved natives seemingly dying in droves, gold and silver objects disappearing never to be found again... Something was definitely up. Titus took another sip of his wine and looked at the two men in turn,, a cheeky smile forming on his lips. "You've been keeping records, right? Detailed ones?" @Chevi @Sara @Sharpie

Only Longinus and his hunt for a new wife were equal parts interesting and urgent enough to make Titus crawl out of his sickbed and venture outside. That and, in all honesty, the prospect of becoming acquainted with praetor Varus. Even without having met the man, he and his family seemed already quite intriguing, what with rumours of the eldest Varus brother, Secundus, not being all there and being paterfamilias in name only - which explained why Longinus had decided to consult with Tertius instead about his niece (although Titus had to wonder: was there a Primus?). So he dragged himself through the Viminal and to the Esquiline, shivering despite the thick woollen cloak wrapped about him and body aching as if he'd spent weeks on horseback. It took him longer than expected to reach his destination, but he couldn't help a wry smile as he saw a very familiar figure standing outside Varus' domus. At least Longinus had had the decency of waiting for him. "My sincerest apologies. I was having so much fun coughing up a lung that I lost track of time," he croaked back to his friend with a scowl, pronouncing each word with painstaking care so as not to provoke another fit. He could only hope that whatever was afflicting his father-in-law had not decided to make a new home inside his chest. Showing up all bleary-eyed from illness and lack of sleep would not help aforementioned first impression either, but at least he'd shaved, and fortunately it was Longinus who would be under the most scrutiny. The pair entered the domus and before long the master of the house appeared to welcome them. Following his friend's lead, Titus greeted Tertius as energetically as he could. "Thank you for having me," he replied in a low, raspy voice, and followed the praetor into the triclinium where drink and grapes awaited. Eating would make his sore throat ache even more, but for the sake of good manners, he'd have to nibble on something when the food came. Not wanting to seem too forward, Titus waited for the others to pick their seats. @Atrice @Sara @Sharpie @Joaquin

When she realised that she too was being scrutinised, Clio's blush intensified. She hadn't had the chance to doll herself up too much for fear of arousing suspicion in her household, and so had simply donned a dark-red tunic and a beige palla - the sort of thing her domina would sometimes have her parade in for the contrasting colours. Hopefully Helenus wouldn't think it too shabby. "I'm glad you came," she admitted with a small smile, finally making steady eye contact. "What would you like to drink?" If he didn't order something, it wouldn't be long before the innkeeper would start to give them the stink eye. Serving slaves was all very well as long as you made the popina money, else you were just occupying valuable floor space. As she listened to Helenus, Clio felt relieved to know he wouldn't get into trouble on her account. When they had first met, she might have even relished the thought, but she was not so mean anymore. His tale was an interesting one, but one thing stood out as quite odd. "Wait, you have worked there for ages and you managed to get into the wrong pool?" She couldn't help the disbelief in her voice or the way her eyes opened wide; the story sounded too improbable. He should know the thermae like the back of his hand... Could it be he had sneaked into the women's quarters to steal?! Clio didn't know what to think. She wanted Helenus' story to be true, just a simple mistake caused by lack of sleep, but there was a chance that he was just testing her. To gain time, she took another sip of her drink and decided in that instant to give the capsarius the benefit of the doubt, but remain cautious. Or rather, more cautious than she had been since he had joined her. "What happened afterwards? Did she order you whipped?" A patron of high enough rank would not find it impossible to have a public slave punished for some perceived slight. Clio twiddled her thumbs under the table, unable to keep still. Fortunately nobody could see them. "I do. But sometimes trouble finds you whether you want to or not." @Atrice

Oh, this was going to be entertaining. The clueless look on Longinus' face at being asked what scent he preferred was just too funny, and Titus shrugged back in response as he bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh. How was he supposed to know what smell his friend liked best? That was what a wife was for, and with any luck this grooming session was a step in the right direction towards finding one. His first impulse at being compared to a woman was to give Longinus the finger, but that would have hardly been appropriate in the current setting and in Barbatius' presence. Instead he glared at the seated man with the burning flames of looming vengeance in his gaze and brought up two extended fingers in a V shape, which he first pointed at his own eyes and then towards Longinus. "And not a moment too soon. Somebody needs to look after you if you won't," Titus mumbled as he chewed on a fingernail. @Atrice @Sara

Edited to add Safinia

The gods fuck him if he was going to let Longinus ruin his good relationship with Marcus Barbatius. Good barbers didn't grow on trees, and to have a skilled tonsor at a domus required money, time and a lot of trust that wasn't gained overnight. Better to have a fellow Roman citizen of good repute brandishing his blades by one's throat than a treacherous slave thinking that slicing it was the opportunity of a lifetime to get away. Besides, cultivating pleasant business relations with the plebs had never hurt anyone. He cleared his throat after his friend finished his little introduction and decided to get straight to business. As much as he wanted to tease Longinus, it wouldn't exactly depict him as the mature well-grounded man he hoped to present himself as. "It's just as Longinus says, your expertise is much appreciated in making him look like a proper citizen again after his bereavement." He eyed the other patrician with amusement and just a hint of mockery before taking a step back. "So please, do show him your skills, Barbatius, and pay no heed to his reluctance." With these words, he retreated towards the entrance door and casually leant against it with his arms folded over his chest. "I can go after him." If Longinus thought he could take advantage of Titus being quietly sat with a sharp blade only a finger's width away from his face and make a run for it whilst still in possession of his facial hair, he was sorely mistaken. @Atrice @Sara

The cup in her hand had more uses than just holding drink: namely, Clio could partially hide her flaming cheeks behind it as she raised it to take a sip of posca. Even if her dark skin kept her face from looking too brightly red, the heat almost had her feeling like she was at a caldarium. "Hello," she greeted back after swallowing, noticing the liquid had done nothing to relieve the dryness in her throat. "Of course, it's for you," she gestured at the empty chair with her free hand, hoping the other slave would not see how her fingers trembled. She took in his appearance with furtive glances, looking at him for a split second and then at the table or at the other patrons behind him. Helenus looked eve more handsome all prim and proper like that, with his hair pulled back and clean clothes, and seemed to be as slightly uncomfortable as Clio herself. He had said he had never been asked out during their previous meeting, and going by his nervousness, it had been true. She hid her hands under the table and gave him a tentative smile. "It was nice of you to come. I was starting to feel like I'd made a fool of myself." She probably was, but only time would tell. Another stubborn lock of hair came out from behind her other ear and she quickly put it back in place, not considering it could have been useful to hide her face is she felt particularly flustered. "Was it difficult to come here? I mean... Will you get in trouble?" Since Helenus had shown up after all, Clio reckoned he had worked something out, but when you had been a slave your whole life, fear of punishment was like a second skin. @Atrice

October, 74 AD. Clio fidgeted in her seat, casting nervous looks about her surroundings. In the early afternoon, the popina was far from at its busiest, but even from the relative safety of her corner table and stool, she didn't feel very comfortable being at this place alone. In front of her was a crude ceramic cup half-full with posca; at least while unaccompanied, she preferred to stay as sober as possible. Had the other slave received and understood her message? What if he could not - or did not want to - come, and Clio sat there all by herself for hours like a fool? It had been hard enough to negotiate these few hours of relative freedom, and it had involved lying to her domina - something the black-haired slave usually tried to avoid and for good reason. She had risked a lot to be here, and even now, alone with only her thoughts for company, Clio still wasn't quite sure why she had done it. It would have been so easy to cast everything aside as a fortuitous meeting and small talk, but no, she had to go and follow up on her parting words. Inhaling sharply through her nose, Clio tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and grabbed her cup to take another sip. Just as her glace swept through the entrance door, a familiar figure came through it, and she very nearly spilled her drink on the table. Why was her heart beating so fast all of a sudden?! @Atrice

Titus rolled his eyes right back at Longinus for good measure. "Yes, really. For the love of Juno, stop complaining! Is this how you're going to attract a new wife? She'll be wanting a divorce in no time if you're like this all the time." When had his friend become so whingy? It was known that people grew more set in their ways as they got older, but he wasn't expecting it to happen to Longinus this soon. The quicker he got himself a new companion, the better; the slaves couldn't have been happy about their peevish master either. He gave the other patrician a rough shove between the shoulder blades, indicating that he should keep moving further into the shop. Titus followed right behind so as to block the path to door, making sure Longinus couldn't have a sudden change of heart and attempt to escape. "He's good all right. He won't cut your throat open, though I may if you don't stop bitching. I can't have survived the battlefields of Britannia to die here listening to your gripes," he chided in a hushed tone. "Seriously though, look at me. See any new cuts or scars on my face?" Titus put on an artificial grin and turned his face left and right for Longinus to examine. "I said new. Nope, don't think so." Half-dragging his friend by the arm, Titus approached the barber with a slightly apologetic smile. "Good Barbatius, here's your new customer. Pardon his scepticism, you'll see it's justified given his current look." @Atrice @Sara

Titus Sulpicius Rufus to his dear friend Longinus, greetings. It makes me happy to know you found the list useful. Why not make a new list with only the rejects and leave that for your mother to find? If she expects the worst, she'll have no choice but to be quiet when you introduce her to your new matron. Are you seriously asking a man who was away from Rome for four years to help you with introductions? When was the last time you saw a medicus? For Calpurnia, you're better off asking Aulus - but I will gladly join you for reconnaissance purposes when you first meet her. I'm not sure how old Claudia is. 16? 18? However, should you really be considering wooing her when you're apparently already frolicking about with her slave (and how did you even manage to meet the slave but not the mistress?)...? I look forward to that story of yours. Caecina is, I believe, younger than Claudia, just so you know. Do suck up to proconsul Tuscus, I'm certain he'll be baffled by your Briton tongue skills. Isn't Sergia related to praetor Varus? That might be a relationship worth cultivating for more than one reason. Whichever you go for, the first thing on your list should be employing the services of a barber, permanently. A GOOD one who will not fall for your bullshit excuses, and who will give you a proper haircut and shave. Don't really know how I'd go about introducing you to these lovely ladies, particularly when you crossed out the one I had the best chance with (you have no clue what our familial gatherings are like and even less clue on what you're missing out on. One word: orgies). Parties might work. Maybe Valeria has some ideas, I shall consult with her. If Bluey ale is what you serve to your friends, I shudder to imagine how you treat your enemies. You're a crueler man than I thought. How's the next ides sound? Farewell, my dearest friend and brother. Titus ______ The letter was delivered to Longinus' domus some five days after their last correspondence. @Sara

Titus took the cup the dark-haired slave offered him and thanked the man with a nod. "Oh, fuck off, Longinus. It's Londinium and you know it, don't act like you've never been." His irritation was not assuaged by the sip of wine he took. Riding a horse for nearly four days in a row and the resulting soreness in his buttocks and thighs contributed heavily to it, too. The seed of doubt had been planted, and might even have germinated if not for one thing: as the youngest of three siblings, Titus had been witness to and/or on the receiving end of countless practical jokes and knew therefore almost all tricks in the book. His gut told him the men's claim was false, and there were signs to prove it: the unrolled scrolls, the soldiers' lack of agitation - which would be present if such epic manoeuvres were to take place so soon -, no buzz of anticipation in the air, no campaign maps or rooks covering the tables... And, maybe most important of all, he was no stranger to Longinus' sense of humour. The biggest surprise was Aulus seemingly going along with it, Titus had not expected that. But very well, three could play that game. "Huh. It seems like you haven't heard after all. One of the reasons the proconsul sent me here today was to tell you to halt preparations for tomorrow and await further instructions. He was right to fear the courier could get sidetracked..." he smirked at the two citizens, taking another sip from his cup. @Chevi @Sara @Sharpie

(Letter dated late November 74 AD) Titus Sulpicius Rufus to his dearest friend Longinus, greetings . As promised, brother, here is the list you desire. Most Almost all of the work is Valeria’s, but I took the liberty of summarising it lest you end up with two full scrolls for each lady. Calpurnia Praetextata Sister to our good friend Aulus of the same name and by all accounts a very beautiful woman, although I have never seen her up close. I don’t think it gets any more prestigious than marrying a former Vestal, although fertility is naturally an unknown quantity in her case. Claudia Caesaris Second only to a Vestal is the imperial household. Again, I am not closely acquainted with this lady, but she is young and said to be very good-looking. I can ask my sister-in-law Cornelia for more information if it pleases you. Oriana Laecania It saddens me to inform once more I have no first-hand account of the beauty of this lady, but according to Valeria she throws some very nice parties. My dear wife tells me she is Equite but looking to move up and comes across as rather smart. Young widow, no children, plenty of money of her own so she won’t go after yours. Caecina Tusca I know it has been your lifelong dream to settle in that mucky shithole we know as Britannia, and to accompany you in your misery who better than the proconsul’s daughter? Think about it, you could have dinner with your father-in-law every night! Too bad it’s not a hereditary magistracy… right? Quinctilia Varia Widow, on the older side, but not too old to have a third child. Comes from a good family, too. Do you like redheads, Longinus? Sergia Auletia If the mother doesn’t cut it, maybe the daughter will - but don't go thinking about threesomes now! Valeria says she hasn’t been married before. Licinia Aureliana My sister-in-law’s niece, daughter of her sister. I haven’t actually seen her in years but she’s said to be very pretty. If you do not find anything to your liking on this list, Longinus, then I will once and for all be convinced that the Britons sacrificed the real you, cock and balls and all, and summoned your castrated lemur to take your place. I shall make sure the appropriate rites are observed and pray for your soul once a year or so. Farewell, my dearest friend and brother. @Sara

LUCIA SAFINIA 17 | 28th February 57 | Plebeian | Cook’s assistant | Heterosexual | Original | Kaya Scodelario Personality. Safinia has never experienced fiery passion or all-consuming hatred. She has never screamed her heart out in grief, had her belly hurt from laughing too much or cried at the misfortune of a close one. The emotions that guide human behavior come to her only in muted, diffuse forms, like shades of grey in a world of colour. She does not know if she was born faulty like that or if it was a consequence of the fire, as her recollections of childhood are few and blurry; she remembers her father’s hands more than his face and her mother’s favourite red dress more than her voice. As a result, she is guided more by physicalities like cold and hunger than virtuous ideals or fanciful desires – the exception being a mixture between old habit and greed that has her stealing small things here and there, sometimes to sell immediately or to keep and admire until she tires of them and trades them for coin. Safinia’s loyalty is to first and foremost to herself, and she goes about daily interactions putting her own interests first. Despite this, she does not participate in plots or schemes, because she has trouble seeing more than face value to words and promises. That is not to say she does not lie or deceive; she will if it’s convenient to her, but her lies are spoken with the same bluntness as her truths, and more like plain denials than convoluted stories. Social niceties are anything but intuitive to Safinia, and in spite of years of observation and ‘training’, she is able to successfully fake them only about half the time, and even then rarely for more than a few hours. To make matters worse, she is unceremonious and straightforward in speech too, seldom running her words though her defective social filter. This causes much irritation amongst the more sensitive of her peers, but has earned her a reputation of frankness with others. All in all, Safinia feels no special attachment to other human beings; they’re often more trouble to figure out than they’re worth. Her plans for the future do not extend beyond the next couple of months, at least for the time being, and essentially consist of keeping herself clothed and fed with a roof over her head. Appearance From her Romano-Lusitanian father, Safinia inherited her dark brown hair and average height of 154 cm; from her Gaulish mother, fair skin and vivid blue eyes – which do not provide a window into her soul, or if they do, show only a flat and undisturbed surface. Light freckles appear around her nose and lips and under her eyes when the sun is strong, and dimples form on her cheeks when she smiles, but few have had the chance to notice the latter. She has an oval face with a small nose and thin lips and a penchant for looking people straight in the eyes, which makes many uncomfortable. Objectively, she is a pretty young woman. Slimly built, Safinia usually wears whatever she get her hands on, which given her station and wealth tends to be well-worn and cheap. Although she works for the White faction, her work guarantees dirtying of any white garments she were to wear, so Safinia sports the colour on hair ribbons instead. Her back is covered in burn scars from a fire in her youth; they are usually hidden from view by clothes, but when they do have to be on display like at the public baths, Safinia is thoroughly unbothered by it. Family Father: Lucius Safinius (b. 14 AD, d. 64 AD) Mother: Safinia L.l. Flora (b. 20 AD, d. 64 AD). Siblings: N/A Spouse: Marcus Dellius (b. 52 AD, d. 74 AD) Children: N/A Extended family: N/A Other: Paula, surrogate mother (b. 18? AD, d. 74 AD) History 57 AD: Safinia is born in Pax Iulia, Lusitania to a Plebeian scout for the White chariot team and his Gaulish freedwoman. According to family legend, her paternal great-grandfather was a veteran of Augustus of southern Italian roots who was settled in Emerita Augusta; her grandfather, in turn, moved to Pax Iulia, where her father was also born and raised. Perhaps due to her parents’ age, she is the couple’s only child to survive birth. 57 – 64 AD: Safinia grows up in Pax Iulia. She is taught the rudiments of reading, writing and mathematics. More experienced parents might worry about their daughter always wanting to play alone, but Lucius and Flora are just grateful that Safinia is an ‘easy’ child. 64 AD, February: The Safinii travel to Rome as Lucius has some very important report for the leader of the Whites. He has been to the capital before, but it is Flora and Safinia’s first time in the eternal city. They rent a tiny house not far from the White stables, and Safinia celebrates her seventh birthday and her first outside her hometown. 64 AD, March: The house where the Safinii are staying is set on fire in the middle of the night and burns to the ground along with a few neighbouring houses. Her parents perish in the fire, but Safinia survives with some burns on her body. The arsonists are never caught, and the incident is deemed a random act of vandalism as no suspects are identified. 65 AD, early spring: After roaming the streets of Rome and stealing to survive for roughly a year, Safinia is taken in by Paula, a childless widow who pities her. 65 – 73 AD: Safinia works as centonaria alongside Paula, sewing rags and patches into a semblance of clothing. When she delivers garments to their customers at their houses, small valuables like jewellery and statuettes mysteriously disappear, although it occurs sporadically enough that nobody associates her with the missing objects. 73 AD, November: Safinia marries Marcus Dellius, a neighbour and roofer five years her senior. It is arranged by Paula, and Safinia goes along with it out of something resembling filial duty, despite having zero feelings for Marcus. He is shy, does not drink excessively and cries when Safinia dispassionately tells him the story of the burn scars on her back. Coins start to disappear from Marcus’ money purse at random intervals, but he never suspects his new wife. Safinia continues to work as centonaria, but from her new home. 74 AD, January: Paula dies of infection following a rotten tooth. Safinia follows mourning rituals and traditions, but the loss impacts her as much as what Caesar had for lunch, which is not at all. Her eyes stay dry throughout. Whatever valuables Paula possessed are subtracted from her house by someone who knew where they were hidden. 74 AD, August: Marcus and Safinia fall ill with Roman fever (malaria). Marcus dies after a few days; Safinia recovers but loses the child she was carrying. As before, she does not shed a single tear, and misses the small comforts afforded by Marcus’ pay more than the man; the miscarriage is similarly dismissed with no consequence. 74 AD, October: Safinia starts working for the White faction as cook’s assistant, name-dropping her father and his connection to the team; she makes it sound like she was taken in by a relative after the fire, and neglects to mention her sewing skills, keeping them as a card up her sleeve in case she needs to find a new employer or gain favour with the Whites. Safinia moves to a different neighbourhood, cutting contact with everyone she knew from before. Trinkets and small objects of little value start disappearing from the stables and mess hall. Liv | GMT+1 | PM/DM (Liv#5452) @Gothic

Salona (nowadays Solin) was the capital city of the province of Dalmatia and, according to legend, founded by Julius Caesar after the civil wars. Although it was a prosperous and important city in its heyday, the ruins are in a sorry state and not very well preserved at all. There was little English signage (contrary to what some websites tell you), and the small museum had the typical findings of glass and metalworks, pottery and funerary elements. If you're in the area, I recommend visiting Trogir as well - it's a charming little place. The amphitheatre, because you can't have a Roman town without one. It saw gladiator fights and executions of early Christians, but did not resist the struggles between Venetians and Ottomans in the 17th century. Stone table and chairs. I hope that back when they were in use, the table was a bit closer to the seats, because the current placement seems supremely impractical. What's left of one of several basilicas built after Christianity was allowed, featuring a rather phallic eroded column. A funny-looking fountain. Fortification around the Porta Caesarea, one of the main thoroughfares that also marked the division between the older and newer parts of town.

Mind if I snag a cook's assistant?

Britannia, late 67AD Nostalgia hit him with full force as Titus entered the military camp on a chilly (for one, not rainy) morning. It was early, but the camp was alive with the hustle and bustle of hundreds of men going about their tasks... Except for a group of four off to his left, where two huddled close to the ground and two others stood and watched. As he got closer to them, the familiar sound of dice rolling inside a cup could be heard, followed by sudden silence and a mix of boastful laughter and groaning. Fasces in tow, Titus approached one of the spectating legionaries and barked a question at him. "Soldier! Where is your legate?" The man flinched and whipped round so quickly he nearly broke his neck, showing a face full of pimples. He had the presence of spirit to step away from his comrades and salute Titus. "I-I d-don't know, sir!" the young soldier managed to stammer out. Titus was unimpressed. "Then why don't you do something about it?" The legionary stared at him with an asinine look. Titus hoped Balbus Papulus was at least a good fighter, since he had neither beauty nor brains. He rolled his eyes, feeling his patience dwindle. "Go find out, then come back here and take me to him, you idiot!" The order spurred the young man into action at last, and he sprang off in search of his general. In the mean time, Titus busied himself with shooting the gambling soldiers dirty looks until the sting of disapproval - or the threat of the fasces - was strong enough to make them put the dice away and start polishing their boots with exaggerated gestures. Balbus Papulus came back surprisingly soon and lead Titus through the camp to one of the bigger tents. The young man did his best to announce that "Qua-quaestor Titus Sulpicius Rufus is he-here to s-s-see--", but Titus dismissed him with a sigh and a wave before he could finish and strode into the tent. A quick look around the tent and its occupants let him know he needn't be too formal, but proper greetings were de rigueur in case someone was lingering just outside, trying to listen in. "Salvete, legate, Aulus Calpurnius," he greeted each man with a nod, predictably ignoring the slaves in a corner. Now that that was out of the way, Titus relaxed his posture a little, but still did not smile. "Did you know you have men gambling for money this early in the morning? At least teach them to be discreet about it." @Sara @Sharpie @Chevi

Not wanting to experience the shame of being last to the party, Titus hurried to the Aventini Minoris. Upon arrival at Aulus' domus, he was relieved to find that his worries were unfounded. Only the host and good old Longinus seemed to be present yet, and Titus greeted both men with an embrace and a broad grin before taking the wine cup a slave offered him. "Lucius Cassius Longinus, I approve of your haircut. You no longer look like a Judean beggar," he joked as he clapped Longinus on the shoulder, humour belying the satisfaction he felt at seeing his friend ready to move on. Aulus had gone all out in matters of decoration and procuring attendants, Titus noted as he looked around, taking in the sights. All, male and female, were pleasing to the eye, and tonight the domus could give any brothel a run for its money. "You spoil us, Aulus," he commented in an admiring tone. His glance lingered a heartbeat too long on a pretty musician with piercing blue eyes. Whether she was a whore or simply an entertainer by trade, the evening would probably see her assume both roles. @Sharpie

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!

Under his brother's pointed scrutiny, Titus almost felt like a child caught being naughty. At least Quintus was content to express his disappointment with only a look; their sister would have slapped his hand away and sent the sausage flying off it. Rome had no problem appropriating gods and goddesses of conquered lands and putting its own spin on them: why not do the same with food? At least cheese and charcuterie - ale was a different story and well beyond a line that should not be crossed. Slightly abashed, he forwent the sausages and picked up a small honey cake instead. It was crunchy on the outside but deliciously soft on the inside, and Titus let himself get lost in the flavours for a moment. As a child, he'd often plagued the kitchen slaves to make some and not tell his parents, and the present chatting and ribbing about their sister brought back a warm, comfortable feeling inside his chest. "Mmm, like a snake," he nodded, wiping some crumbs off the corner of his mouth. "Don't know if it was the kids or Lucius that made her calm down a bit, though." Their brother-in-law might have had a hand in it too. "Well, I was actually thinking of both, to be honest," Titus admitted while sipping on what was left of his wine. "But family comes first, so I'm all ears!" @Gothic

Omg @Sara, I was perusing Longinus' app to see what we could do with him and Titus! Great minds think alike Begrudging comrades turned friends with a splash of jealousy on Titus' side sounds very interesting, mind if I go ahead and PM you?

What did the Romans do to inhabitants of the regions they conquered? That's right, they enslaved them. Titus Sulpicius Rufus is no exception and brought home a couple of fine souvenirs from his time in Dacia: Diegis (mid 20s - mid 30s) - Youngest son of a local chieftain, lost his father and older brother in the same skirmish where he was captured. Husband to Zia. A fierce warrior with good leadership skills and a troublemaker if left to his own devices, which is why Titus brought him to Rome and decided to make money off his muscles and battle prowess. Possible career paths: leased to one of the ludi to become a gladiator, to one of the chariot factions as security personnel, or rented to citizens as a bodyguard (if he behaves he may be allowed to keep a portion of the earnings for himself). Could get involved with one of the gangs, too. General personality, history and fate up to you. Suggested FC: Dustin Clare Zia - Diegis' wife. Currently a household slave. Essentially a bit of a hostage to get Diegis to behave, although they are allowed to meet occasionally. taken by Sara! Tarbus (mid 20s - mid 30s) - Tribesman to the other two and Zia's cousin. Suffered serious wounds to his sword arm in battle, so life as a warrior is no longer an option. Probably leased to one of the chariot factions as horse trainer, cartwright, leather worker or even charioteer wannabe. Could also get involved with one of the gangs. Personality, history and fate up to you. Suggested FC: Liam McIntyre taken by springy! In the domus proper and in addition to Zia you may also find: Betua (early 50s - mid 60s) - a formidable woman of even more formidable cooking skills and mistress and commander of the Sulpicii-Rufi's kitchen. Originally from Gaul, she's been a slave for many decades and has been with the family for several years, even travelling to Dacia with them. Strict and temperamental but caring, she's recently found her nemesis in the Briton below... Suggested FC: Phyllis Logan Florus (late teens - mid 20s) - recently acquired (and renamed) for his gardening skills, courtesy of Longinus. This young Briton is as passionate and particular about plants and shrubs as the Gaulish bard is about his music and considers himself something of a misunderstood genius in the realm of greenery. He has met his match in Betua, who often angers him by harvesting greens too soon (according to him, but not to her), and the two can't see eye to eye on how much of the hortus shall be dedicated to growing food and how much ascribed to decoration with vegetation. Is currently being romantically pursued by Tranquillus, but does he return the other slave's feelings? taken by Ejder! Tranquillus (early to late 40s) - Titus' body slave. Born into slavery in Hispania, he came to Rome with his previous master and found himself acquired by Titus in 69. Prim, proper and posher than any other slave in the household, he was creatively renamed after his calm demeanour. An educated and diligent Stoic who takes pride in what he does, he thought himself immune to the fickle designs of Venus until the aforementioned Florus came into the household. Struck by Cupid's arrows for the first time, Tranquillus is now reduced to a bumbling mess whenever the gardener is close by and tries to come up with increasingly more elaborate ways to win Florus' affections. To what degree this is affecting his ability to perform his duties is up to you! taken by Chevi! In his transaction with Longinus, Titus came to own two other Britons: a guard (m) and a kitchen helper (f). Other slaves from Dacia or other regions are more than welcome, whatever their skills! And, while you're reading this, why not take a look at Titus' relatives in the canon lists? Most are open and very much wanted