Liv

Hey guys,

Sorry for my long leave of absence. Some family stuff happened that put me in a bad place mentally, and then the longer I went without logging in the guiltier I felt, and so it went on for far too long... I'm really sorry about that.

On a slightly different note, next week I'm going on a three-week holiday where I won't have access to a computer and internet access will be spotty. If I manage to post, it'll be from my phone, so there may be more mistakes than usual. I'll try to catch up until then.

The smell of fried onions and cooking meat beckoned to Clio irresistibly. She had walked past the thermopolium a number of times over the past few weeks and nearly succumbed to its delicious aromas, but it was only now that she had the agency (and bravery) to actually become a customer. She was a faithful slave on a secret mission: to sample the wares of the Wolf-man. If they passed the taste test, she was to bring some back - discreetly - for her domina to try. If they didn't, she got a free meal out of it anyway.

From inside the shop the owner's voice boomed, and Clio trembled in anticipation. The shopkeeper's reputation preceded him, and it was not the first time Clio heard him ranting or complaining at one of his helpers, probably a slave who knew better than to argue back or really do anything but nod. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and approached the stall. It's for Domina, she told herself in a bid for courage. Clio had not dared to bring up the subject, but could this particular craving of her mistress's be caused by new life in her womb? Pregnant women were known for wanting all sorts of extraordinary foodstuffs, after all. On the other hand, it might just be due to wanting to try some tasty commoner food. Clio would reserve judgment until a later date, when things became clearer, before reporting this to her master.

"Hello," she greeted timidly, elbowing her way between two patrons, each busy with gorging himself on bread and meat. The smell was enough to make anyone's mouth water.

@Gothic

Titus was happy to notice he and Aulus shared a common reasoning; he often feared he acted too quickly, too rashly, and to have someone he saw as calm and pondered come to the same conclusions boosted his self-confidence significantly. He followed Aulus to the shade of the oak and motioned for the two men to sit down like he had been doing up until a few moments. A party of three travellers taking a break under a tree and chatting would attract less attention than if they were to keep standing by the roadside.

"I'm thinking of going to Ariminum. The harbour there is bigger and busier than Ancona's, so there must be more ships headed to Illyricum." There should also be better, more stable ships that would traverse the sea more quickly; if fishing boats were the only option, Titus was not sure he wouldn't turn back and ride on horseback across Histria and Dalmatia in order to keep his stomach inside his body. If the gods had intended for men to spend a big part of his life in water, they would have given them gills and fins - yet they hadn't, and Titus did not fancy testing their patience.

"Getting to Salona or Dyrrachium is my short-term goal. I'll probably just embark on whatever ship leaves first." From there on out, his plan was blurrier and the path less clear, but he was sure of one thing - maritime travel was only an option when choosing land over it would result in extreme delays. "What is your plan?" If Aulus had a better idea - which may very well be the case, as he had more experience -, then Titus was all ears.

The body slave had been quiet and withdrawn from conversation, and Titus wondered if he had sufficient notions of geography to know what they were discussing. He had shown himself to be loyal to his master, but was he educated? Time to find out. "Felix, wasn't it?" he asked, turning his head to face the slave. "How familiar are you with the Eastern provinces?"

@Chevi @Sharpie

9 hours ago, Chevi said:

@Liv

Clio and Azarion frustrating each other sounds like a fun plan! Let's make it happen

Titos meeting Theo would be fun too, Theo has been taking on some extra work outside the ludus, now that he has more connections, so we can make that happen too

 

Sounds great! I'm going to have a busy couple of days, but can start some threads on thursday. Or if you'd rather start, by all means

His friend was far more generous than Titus deserved, giving away expensive wine like that. "Then they're already halfway to being civilised," he chuckled. The barbarians could sing their praises of beer all day long, but few things were more satisfactory than a cup of a fine vintage. Beer was best consumed in stews, anyway. "You have my thanks, Aulus. Let us drink it together and toast to the glory of Rome!" Good company made good wine even better. Maybe he should invite the other man and his wife over for dinner sometime soon; Valeria probably would like that. 

"A year, huh? That's not too bad." Titus took a seat next to Aulus and sighed pensively. "I can't really complain. Returned from Dacia a couple of months ago. It's nice to be home and spend time with the wife and kids, but..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, secretly miffed at not being able to express himself as eloquently as he would like. "After four years away, I thought this was what I wanted, what I missed. To be back in the city, able to take part in Senate meetings again, stroll down the Aventine... But somehow, it's all become so dull." A few months in and the magic seemed to be dwindling fast already.

"To be completely honest with you, Aulus, I'm not sure what to do." 

@Sharpie

Titus expressed his delight at being recognised by flashing a toothy grin. "The very same," he confirmed. How kind of the gods to have Aulus' path cross with his own. The man had left a powerful impression on Titus some years prior, when they had both been stationed in Gallia, and would undoubtedly be a valuable ally on the way to the East.

"I was lucky to hear of the news in time. It would've been madness to try and head south, with Clemens' cronies out for blood." He spit on the ground with contempt.  That same gesture would have been an unforgivable provocation in Rome, but here and now, between like-minded people, it illustrated just how little Titus thought of the usurper and his friends.

So the sturdy-looking man was Aulus' slave. Social conventions be damned, it was useful to know the slave was loyal to his master - which was more than could be said of Titus' quick-legged erstwhile servant. He nodded back his acknowledgment at Felix, figuring he owed the two men an explanation as to why he was alone. 

"It has, haven't run into any trouble yet. Well, aside from my slave abandoning his duty already on the first night," he scowled. Hadn't it been for time being of the essence, Titus would have looked for the boy and shown him just how they handled deserters in the army, but that would be a matter for another time. "But I had to move on, and here I am. On the positive side, it's faster to travel alone." It was meagre consolation, but Titus was not one to dwell on what could have been; he preferred to direct his energies toward what actually could be done and put it into practice.

"Are you also headed to Ariminum? Or Ancona, perhaps?" 

It had come as a surprise to Clio herself, but she was indeed curious about how the slaves that took care of this place lived. It must be a very different life from hers, and yet very similar too: having to tend to the master's every whim and will, not being able to go out freely, not knowing if they would be treated with dignity or disdain that day (though that last part did not really apply to Clio's current household, fortunately)... And she, at least, was fortunate enough to live in a place with proper ventilation. There was no way all that tepid water could be healthy long-term; quite the opposite, probably.

It seemed they were approaching the private areas of the thermae, which patrons did not have access to. The corridor had got narrower and darker, and the beautiful frescoes had dwindled to nothing; it was clear the architects and builders had seen no impress those who would walk down these hallways. The idea of being led around by another slave lost much of its appeal suddenly, and Clio failed to suppress a shiver. Outwardly she could blame it on the colder air, but she knew that was not the reason. Her throat got progressively drier and she had to swallow a few times before managing to answer the male slave. "I'm called Clio. At least here in Rome, I am. Back home, it was more like Kleio." The difference in pronunciation had never bothered her, and a slave had whatever name their master chose to bestow upon them, anyway.

She wrinkled her nose at the stench in the air. It felt clammy and smelled of old sweat mixed with mould and unwashed clothes. Her domina would kill her if she turned up smelling like that, so Clio made a mental note to stand by one of the incense burners and allow herself to be fumigated once they were back at surface level. "Um, maybe later. Do you have kitchens down here? Or your own baths, maybe?" It did not seem wise or to let herself be shown the sleeping quarters just yet - or actually, ever. This was turning out to have been a really bad idea. Why had she let her pride blind her so easily? She should have just stayed put and waited somewhere for domina to be done with her bathing routine. Foolish, foolish Clio. She prayed silently to every deity she could remember not to let her come to harm, promising them daily offerings for a month if they protected her. Being in this deep, it was all she could do.

@Atrice

On 7/20/2019 at 8:14 AM, Gothic said:

Oooo! Yes to Caius meeting Clio! She can be like Uber Eats lol 

Titus and Quintus absolutely need a thread. Either in the modern day or in the past, both of them work for me. Do you have a preference? 

Gaius could totally meet one of them. Is any of them sticking out to you the most? 

I'll try to start that Uber Eats thread in the next few days, should be fun 

No preference really, I'm fine with either! 

Hmm, Clio has a more dramatic/tabloid-like life story, whereas Titus is going through the age-old dilemma of doing what he likes vs what's expected of him. Don't know which one Gaius would find more interesting or unusual. Maybe Clio for diversity's sake, since she's more limited in her character interactions?

Hmm, don't know about Clio since she's a bit limited in her scope of interactions, but she could eventually come across Azarion in town while on an errand or enjoying some free time. She's a bit arrogant, though, so I imagine they'd frustrate each other to no end.

Titus, on the other hand, could/should definitely visit Theodorus and have some older and newer injuries checked out! He might also know of Aia from his time in Britannia, don't know if you'd like to explore any links there.

Can't believe I hadn't posted here yet 

Clio might pay Caius Lupus' McD a visit one of these days, either to eat in or take away (her household's little secret?). Titus and Quintus should have a chat sometime soon. Don't know if Gaius Petronius would be interested in taking down some notes on one of these two. I'm game for anything!

Hearing a  voice call out his name, Titus whipped his head round with an intrigued look on his face. Coming across acquaintances happened all the time in the city, but he did not expect it to be the same in the gardens, especially in the peak of summer when an overwhelming part of the upper class retired to their villas in the country: to Baiae, Puteoli, Stabiae and a number of fashionable seaside resorts.

His inquisitive expression gave way to a broad smile when he recognised the man who had called out to him. "Mars Gradivus, if it isn't Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus! " Titus hurried to the other man's side and greeted him with the customary kiss. How long had it since they had last seen each other? Years, certainly, not since after Aulus' stint as praetor came to an end. "And you!" he grinned genially. "The Raetians seem to have treated you well.  Did you manage to get those bastards speaking proper Latin?" 

He motioned for his friend to follow him to the pavilion so that they would have more privacy and not risk interruption from drinkers or other passersby. "More importantly, what would you have in exchange for an amphora or two of Raeticum?" Titus laughed, but he was only half-joking; the wines from that province were second to only Falernian vintages. 

"Are you back in Rome for good? Or just passing through?" Titus asked as he took refuge from the unyielding sun under the pavilion's marble entablature. In hindsight it had been madness to go out in the middle of the day, but the gods had rewarded his daring feat with a reunion with a dear friend.

@Sharpie

One of the men pointed to the oak, but the other seemed to hesitate. They'd probably had the same idea as Titus, and the fact that they wanted to take a break so close to the city had to mean they had been walking for a while, perhaps even the whole day. He understood why they were reluctant to approach; one never knew if fellow travellers could be trusted, and there was no shortage of gruesome stories about robbery and assault.

A friendly gesture would have been to share food and drink with the pair, but he was all out of both. Of course, there was the small chance that they weren't friendly at all, but for the time being they seemed to be more wary of Titus than he of them. Besides, he still had that nagging impression that he had seen the oldest's countenance before.

He made a decision. Titus rose slowly as not to alarm them and lifted his hands with palms facing the strangers; at the same time, his elbow pushed the cloak away to the side so the pugio was visible - a silent message that in spite of meaning no harm, he was neither harmless nor unarmed. A cautious smile played on his lips. 

"No need to be suspicious, citizens. This oak is large enough for the three of us to sit under." One, two, three careful steps away from the tree and closer to the men. Close enough to see their features now. The younger man was a complete stranger, although his simple appearance belied a strong complexion. A quick examination of the older man, however, made Titus' eyes light up in recognition. "Sir... are you, per chance, Aulus Calpurnius Praetextatus, former tribune?"

If his guess were confirmed, Titus imagined he would feel very much like a glutton presented with a bowl of globi -or, in parlance of two millennia years later, like a child who'd seen Santa Claus.

@Chevi @Sharpie

Outskirts of Narnia, days after Clemens' proclamation
 

For nearly three days Titus had walked along the Via Flaminia, moving steadily away from Rome. News of the Praetorian Clemens declaring himself Caesar had spread through the city like a wildfire, and Titus, being the man of action he was, could not simply stay home and wait for the traitor's thirsty supporters to knock on his door. No, his first course of action had been to entrust the safety of his wife and daughter to his older brother. Quintus had always been good with words, a proper diplomat, and he would no doubt find a way to send Valeria and little Flacca to stay with his own wife Cornelia, at a sufficient distance from Rome.

His second course of action had been to change to his most nondescript tunica and cloak - one grey, the other brown and both unremarkable in every way save for the quality of the fabric and the attention put into the seams -, tuck his trusty pugio into his belt and grab a good amount of coin. He'd need it for the long journey to Cappadocia, and a larger amount than under ordinary circumstances. Silence and safe passage would have to be bought at some point, and perhaps a horse if he was feeling bold enough.

Laurus, his faithful body slave, was ordered to stay behind despite hearty protests. The man was getting up in age and his eyesight had been failing for some time, and Titus feared the slave would simply be too recognisable. Instead, Laurus was to stay and protect the house from looting and thieves, and the teenage son of the cook was to accompany Titus on his way to Quintus Alexander's legions. They would pretend to be a slave trader and his servant, making for Dacia to secure a new batch of conquered hands to sell in Rome.

It was a good plan at its inception, or so Titus thought. They would exit the capital from the north so as not to arouse suspicion; Clemens and his men would definitely expect the high-ranking class to take the Via Appia to the south, whether to seek refuge in their villae or to board a ship headed eastward, or attempt to escape via the port of Ostia. Taking the Via Flaminia toward the north-east through the mountains did not seem plausible enough to Clemens as a means of exiting Rome, as he did not seem to have increased his men's monitoring of it.

The first day had gone well. They had made good headway after leaving the city at nightfall, and the boy slave was quite adept at lighting a fire when Titus decided they had come far enough to get some rest. Too bad the boy had been gone by dawn, the dimension of his task too much for a boy of 13 who had never been out of the city previously. It was a minor setback, but the slave's presence had been far from crucial. Titus could start a fire easily too, and only having himself to worry about should there be a fight certainly made things easier. Sleep would have to be visited in short light bursts, but that was nothing his service hadn't trained him for.

The last milestone he had passed told him he was only three miles away from Narnia. Once there, he would have to opt to continue following the same road or making a detour through the Via Flaminia Nova, but given the lack of trouble thus far, Titus was inclined to stay on the main road. He was yet undecided as to his final destination on mainland Italia: Ancona had a more geographically favoured position, but the port of Ariminum was busier and more developed. From one of these cities Titus intended to cross the Adriatic to either Salona or Dyrrachium, and then make his way overland to Cappadocia. Another option was to sail to Tarsus in Cilicia and then cross the mountains to Caesarea, but Titus was not a fan of ships and preferred to stay on firm ground as much as possible. His stomach would thank him for it.

Despite the short distance left, Titus' feet were clamouring for some rest. The prickling of thirst in his throat was getting harder to ignore, too, and so he decided to make a quick stop. Just a couple of passi off the road was a great oak, and Titus wasted no time in accepting its silent invitation and nestling down between two big roots, back leaning against the trunk. He emptied his water skin and wiped off a few errant droplets with the back of his hand. There was no longer any bread left, but he could resupply in Narnia, perhaps buy some smoked sausage and dates too. And a horse, because at this rate - even at his good marching pace - it was going to take far too long to reach Quintus Alexander.

Over on the road a cart plodded along; even from this distance Titus could see the driver's fabulous red moustache, and immediately pegged him for a Gaul. Not far behind, two men followed the same path. There was nothing particularly eye-catching about them, but the older one's countenance seemed  familiar. Titus squinted. It might not be wise to rise and approach them out of the blue just to get a better look; they might think him a thief or a roadside bandit.  If only the oak had been a little closer to the road...

@Chevi @Sharpie

It was getting progressively harder not to let her impatience shine through, but Clio knew how important perseverance was in the end. She had to act the part and keep a cold head, for irritation would only bring about inattention. Still, she couldn't help but feel annoyed at the other slave's duality: he seemed to have moments of self-agency, and then a second later it was back to 'my masters' this and 'the rules' that.  What a stick in the mud.

Now she had no choice but to agree to his proposition - it was very similar to the one she'd put forth herself, after all. And after putting on charming airs, it would be mostly counterproductive to suddenly change her mind. "That sounds fair," Clio admitted. But it didn't completely do away with her reservations, for another slave could still enter the chamber during their absence and spirit away some of Annia Comna's belongings. What to do? If something was amiss when they returned to the chamber, how could she lodge a complaint? Clio only hoped it wouldn't have to come down to that.

She gazed at the hand the baths slave offered her. It looked strong, but not calloused like those of the farm slaves of her childhood, and it was bigger and rougher than her own. With a hardening of her jaw, Clio took his hand. His olive skin felt warm to the touch. "I'd like to know more about your life here." That much was true; she was curious about the duties of capsarii and how they juggled serving their many masters. Hopefully he wouldn't take her anywhere too scary...

"What was your name again?"

@Atrice

(Takes place about a week before the Senate meeting.)

The sweltering heat of Roman summer was a probation Titus had let himself grow unaccustomed to. The noxious odours emanating from the Tiber nauseated the whole city and gave way to legions of mosquitos out for the citizens' blood, sucking away their energy and leaving behind torpor, sickness and infernal itching. Rome was lethargic and its ennui spread to its inhabitants; Titus' household had been no exception. His wife, usually so agreeable, was keeping the slaves on their toes with sharp criticism of their fanning skills. Little Valeriana had scratched her legs raw thanks to mosquito stings and would take no comfort from anybody except her nanny. Flacca and Publius had engaged in a lively discussion about which sorbet was best that had yet to come to a conclusion, even after Titus had taken them out to buy some for the three of them (and conceded Flacca's point that strawberry ice was clearly superior to honey ice). It was getting to be just a bit too much, and claiming some vague meeting Titus slipped away from his stuffy residence.

The Gardens of Sallust were a veritable oasis in the city. Lush vegetation grew in all directions, displaying infinite shades of green. Venerable trees provided shade and a respite from the heat, their leaves murmuring in the summer breeze. To Titus it almost felt like being in Gaul again, where the weather had been milder and the nature wilder, rural as it still was. Dacia had the best summers, its mountains and forests keeping the temperature pleasant. Britannia hardly had summers to speak of, between the constant drizzling and the attacks of the natives. A wretched land, truly.

Titus strolled down the stone path at a leisurely pace, adjusting his gait here and there to stay in the shade. Some bird was singing in the distance, but Titus was not familiar with its cry  and therefore could not identify it. He was too deep in thought, anyway. It had been half a year since his return to Rome, but he felt no closer to coming to a decision now than when he had arrived. At first it had been easy to delay the matter, for his family had kept in busy, and old acquaintances and clients required proper greetings; then he had had innumerable news and rumours to learn of, new information to acquire. Then came festivities, and Senate meetings, and dinner parties... And now it was summer already. Old man Chronus and his wheel waited for no one.

He stopped briefly to drink from a fountain and caught sight of a small pavilion. Perhaps contemplation of the building's simple colonnades would bring the clarity his mind sought.

@Sharpie

For the first time in four years Titus stepped foot inside the Curia Julia again. Many of his fellow senators had already arrived, but there were still plenty of open seats. Their togas, perfectly immaculate in most cases, gave the event an air of equality and complete fairness; the taking of seats, however, betrayed the illusion: those closes to Caesar and highest in rank sat foremost, while those of lesser authority - like Titus himself, in his role as former quaestor - were relegated to the back, farther from Caesar. It suited Titus just fine, as fewer would see him fidgeting under the unbearable itchiness of his toga.

A few familiar faces cropped up here and there, and Titus acknowledged those around him with nods and short greetings as he moved closer to the seats. Spotting his brother Quintus together with Appius Scipio, Quintus' brother-in-law, he made a beeline for the two men and greeted each with a vigorous handshake and a promise of catching up after the meeting. Sitting not far away from the pair was Aulus Praetextatus, whom Titus also knew well; he greeted the older man with an enthusiastic nod, and, at last, proceeded to take a seat at one of the back rows. 

Absolutely @Sharpie! I'm fine with either, can't say I'm itching for one over the other. Would you like to start or should I?

Just as she had expected, the other slave didn't seem all inclined to let Clio stay and keep watch. There were a great many shelves in the chamber, a few waiting for a new user but most of them full of the patrons' belongings. It was as natural for her to be suspicious of him as he of her, but how should they solve this conundrum? She smiled back at him in so sweet a manner that it made her teeth hurt. 

"I understand. You want to make sure I don't steal anything... and I want to make sure you don't steal anything." There. No more misgivings or playing cat and mouse. "Since we have the same goal, why not make an exception this time?" Clio lowered her voice to a near whisper, almost conspiratorial. She tucked a lock of smooth brown hair behind her ear and looked at him with feigned interest. Her domina would have her go without food for this poor attempt at flirting; it was no way for Clio to behave, as the body slave of a respectable matron. Yet, if coy smiles and the batting of eyelashes didn't have an effect on the capsarius, perhaps he could be swayed by their now common understanding - partners in crime, almost, in defying the rules of the thermae in order to best carry out their tasks.

"If one of your group comes, we leave. In the meantime, I can look at you... and you can look at me... and maybe tell me more about your job here?" She raised an eyebrow in a silent invitation. "In what ways is it not comfortable?"

@Atrice

By the gods, how nerve-wracking this was! Try as much as she liked, Clio's expression was sure to be transparent for someone as used to dealing with shady characters as her master; no doubt he could read her as easily as one of the pieces of parchment placed in front of him. It seemed her passionate defence of her domina had been successful, though. 

Clio stood attentively, listening to her new orders. They did not seem to conflict with those her domina would give her, and so she would not have any difficulty following them. It did not, however, mean that she would not have to be careful. There may be times to come when what the dominus wants to hear and what truly is happening are not the same, and Clio would have to juggle that fine balance in the information she would give. She had a closer relationship to her mistress and thus felt more loyal to her, but it was the master who held the actual power over his household, wife and child included. To even try to deceive him would be utter foolishness. "Yes, domine, I understand. I shall keep you informed."

Well. Now this was the truly hard part. Clio chewed on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, considering what to say. She did not want to cause a rift between husband and wife, but neither did she want to arouse the master's suspicions. "I am not always privy to all that happens, Domine," she started timidly, "but she has been observing a number of gladiators training in the arena lately. She often comments on their talents and flaws, and fighting styles. It is my impression she may be considering which ones have a better chance of being successful in actual matches, although I am but an ignorant slave on this matter, Domine." She attempted a small smile. What Clio did not dare tell her master is that the domina also often commented on their physical prowess and appearance, and had on more than one occasion asked for Clio's opinion on how a particular fighter would perform in bed.

"Domina has also been trying to cultivate acquaintances among the higher class, Domine. Results have been... mixed." The more conservative crowd had no interest for the parties Annia Comna organised, whereas those of a more Epicurean nature seemed to look forward to the next such event. Regardless, both parties talked about the mistress and her parties, whether to disdain or praise them. Clio had once heard that there was no such a thing as bad publicity in the business world, and her mistress seemed to be aiming for exactly that - putting her name, and by extension that of the Ludus Dacicus, in the mouths of Romans everywhere.

@Brian

What a stubborn man this slave was. All right, he could not do anything about baskets or the lack thereof: how many more times was he going to state it? Was he proud of his own powerlessness? Or was he one of the 'woe-is-me'-types, out for commiseration from any unaware person who would provide it? Clio rolled her eyes and made what she thought was the wise decision of not saying anything else on that subject. 

Perhaps he was just generally chatty, Clio considered as they walked past occupied niches and finally into the room where the bathers' belongings were kept. "I've heard being an imperial slave can be quite comfortable," she mused, chewing absentmindedly on her lower lip. Not having a single master made them less susceptible to flights of temper that could end in punishment, in Clio's opinion, but at the same time, it might be more difficult for them to gain their freedom if they did not possess good enough qualifications; after all, how could they impress several masters equally?

"Indeed, it's all one can do." She understood his reasons well, and it was possibly the most likely motive for a slave to behave well... But Clio felt there was also a certain pride to be had in doing their jobs to the best of their abilities. To serve well not only because they feared the whip or the mines, but also to make life easier or more agreeable to their master and find fulfillment in that knowledge. But, she supposed, serving many could mean a shallow relationship to one another; the thermae slave's master were probably not as dependent on his help as Clio's domina was on hers, since there were certainly several other capsarii who could perform the same tasks.

Clio looked at the vacant shelf the man pointed out. It was just a bit too high on the wall for her liking, but nothing could be done about that. She gently placed Annia Comna's belongings on it, taking great care to avoid ruffling them. The leather pouch hadn't moved from its hiding place, but a muted clanging sounded as Clio shifted her arms. Damn it. The last thing she wanted was to attract attention to it! That just made Clio all the more determined to guard her domina's possessions.

"Are there any rules against me staying here? I would like to keep an eye on my mistress's belongings." There didn't seem to be any other personal slaves around, from what she could tell... Did that mean only the thermae slaves were allowed here? Or were the other patrons simply carefree about the possible illegal subtraction of their things?

@Atrice

Sugar for sure, honey's only place in my diet is when I'm sick... like now

Pizza or hamburger?

Titus Sulpicius Rufus.

34 | october nonae 39 CE | Senatore | Soldier/senator | Heterosexual | Canon | Toby Kebbell

Personality.

From a very young age Titus has been described as both bold and brash. As a little boy he would try to climb the tallest tree, mount the wildest mare, start the most play-fights. He was determined to aggrandise himself, to beat his siblings and the slave children in their endeavours, and then tell everyone about it who would hear. The brashness is still there, forever a part of his nature and upbringing, but he does a good job of taming it as needed. Titus prefers to describe himself as confident. Never one to shy away from a challenge, he likes to take initiative and meet his enemies where they stand, be it in the fields of Dacia or within the walls of Rome.

It goes, without saying, therefore, that Titus is willful and driven in his undertakings. Any affair he is tasked with is seen to completion, and despite his lack of patience for mundane minutiae, he is perfectly capable of playing the long game so as to accomplish his goals. Nevertheless, every so often his face betrays his inner thoughts, and to combat that flaw he tends to assume a serious, grumpy look – which, again, leads many to feel justified in their opinion of him as an arrogant man.

In actuality, Titus is a goofy fellow with a quick laugh. Trading jokes and anecdotes with his legionaries, attending theatre performances and playing with his children are things he enjoys, and he’s as much a fan of gladiator fights and chariot races as the average Gaius on the street. The simple pleasures of life energise him and give him something to look forward to when he is away from civilisation.

As a soldier, Titus is frighteningly effective. He leads those under his command from the frontlines, aiming to set a good example, and hacks away at enemies with all the glee and abandon of a patron at a brothel. A decent strategist and a better executor, Titus feels most alive when in the midst of battle, fighting by his men’s side; he lives for victory and the look of despair in their opponents’ eyes when they realise they’re powerless to stop the implacable Roman army – better than any aphrodisiac or fine wine. His loyalty to the eagle standard is unquestionable, and his trust in the Augustus’ military and political savvy unwavering.   

Appearance

Titus stands at a fairly common 172 cm, being both shorter and stockier than his lanky elder brother. Thanks to his time in the legions and a natural inclination for fitness and physical activity, he is in good shape, although by no means built like a gladiator. Also courtesy of his military service are several scars, both big and small, spread across his body; some are more visible than others, like his nearly-sliced-in-half right ear and cheek, but Titus sees them as proof of his dedication rather than eyesores.

He sports short, slightly wavy brown hair and, in spite of his best efforts and shaving routine, often finds himself in possession of a 5 o’clock shadow. His eyes are an ordinary brown, neither light nor dark, and his skin colour is also quite ordinary, although a tanner tone than the one he was born with owing to long periods of time spent outdoors.

The latest fashions mean nothing to Titus, and he feels most comfortable in military garb. When at home in Rome, he lets his body slave decide for him, as long as it’s simple and sober. Regardless of what he wears, Titus strives to present a stolid countenance in public, but allows himself to be much more animated when with family or very close friends – and occasionally in front of his army subordinates.

Family

Father: Lucius Sulpicius Rufus (b. deceased, former Consul.)

Mother: Plancia Magna (b. alive)

Siblings:

Sulpicia Rufia (b. 48 years old)
Quintus Sulpicius Rufus (b. 29 CE)

Spouse: Valeria Flacca, daughter of Publius Valerius Flaccus (senator)

Children:

Sulpicia Flacca (b. 61CE)
Publius Sulpicius Rufus (b. 65CE)
Sulpicia Valeriana (b. 70CE.)

Extended family:

Paternal
Sulpicia Rufia's husband = Lucius Volusius Saturninus (Senator)
Quintus Volusius Saturninus (b. 60CE)
Gaius Volusius Saturninus (b.64CE)
(Other children did not survive.)

Quintus Sulpicius Rufus' wife = Cornelia Scipiones
Quintus Sulpicius Rufus Minor (b. 60CE)
Appius Sulpicius Rufus (b. 62CE)
Sulpicia Rufiana (b. 64CE)
Sulpicia Annthea (b. 68CE)

Maternal

(Grandfather, Senator) Marcus Plancius Magnus
Marcus Plancius Magnus Minor, age 40.
Plancia Magnilla

 
Extended family on the Plancia-Magna page.

Other:

Related to the Valerii-Flacchi by marriage

History

Titus came to the world in 39CE, the third and last child to his parents. Being the youngest afforded him liberties his older siblings would have had to fight for, and that suited the active little boy just fine. His bronze soldier toys followed him all around the domus, and the conquests of Alexander were his favourite bedtime stories. He was a curious and fearless child, more interested in history and the military arts than literature or philosophy. While his brother concerned himself with learning the ropes of the Senate and their dealings from their father Lucius, Titus dreamed of becoming the greatest legatus of his age, an equal to Scipio Africanus in the annals of history. As he grew older, however, he came to understand the merits of Quintus’ long-term strategy, and sought to adapt it to his own ambitions.

His coming of age coincided with a period of great unrest in Rome. The illness and later death of Claudius brought about much uncertainty, and rebellions popped up all across the Empire like mushrooms after heavy rains. It was in this climate of distrust and betrayal that Titus joined the legions as tribunus laticlavius under the command of Quintus Flavius Alexander, unafraid to openly support the Augusta’s family. The conflict in Gaul had them facing the forces of the proditor patriae Camilius and emerging victorious in 56CE. Titus’ service only confirmed what he had always felt deep within: the art of war was to be his métier.

The fragile peace attained after the liquidation of Camilius would last only a few years, suffering irreparable blows from the deaths of the Caesares: Darius in 58CE and Junus and Honorius two years later. Titus’ stint in Gaul ended when Quintus Flavius Alexander returned to Rome in 60CE, and in the same year he married Valeria Flacca, she too the daughter of a senator. It was a political match, as most were, but Titus’ affection for his wife grew quickly as they welcomed their new life together, and before long he was sincerely and utterly devoted to her. A year later, in 61CE, the pair welcomed their first daughter, named Sulpicia Flacca for both families. Titus found he was the doting type of father, hopelessly wrapped about his daughter’s chubby little fingers.

In 62CE civil war broke out, and again Titus hurried to Quintus Flavius Alexander’s side in the East. Between Cyprianus’ loss of power and the executions ordered by the newly-acclaimed Clemens, Rome was a most dangerous place to be, and Titus entrusted the safety of his wife and child to the smooth tongue and diplomacy of his older brother. In Cappadocia he acclaimed Quintus Alexander Caesar, supporting him in his defeat of the armies of Scaurus, Cotta and Clemens, and marched triumphantly back to Rome under the new Caesar after a fortunate reunion with his brother. His reencounter with Valeria and Flacca was an emotional one, yet Titus was eager to assist Quintus Caesar in his structural reforms of the legions. In 63CE he marched to Gaul once more, aiding Caesar in his pushback against the German attackers along the Rhine and helping to prepare a new venture into Britannia. Their force reached the island in 64CE and again a reorganisation of the legions was undertaken so they might better defeat the belligerent natives.

In one of the skirmishes with aggressive tribes Titus suffered a serious injury and was sent back to Rome once he has recuperated enough to travel, his superior affirming that Titus had yet much to offer to the army if only he took care to live long enough. His sourness at having to miss out on all the action was lessened by being with his family again, and in 65CE Valeria gave birth to a son, named Publius in honour of his maternal grandfather. His new heir made Titus’ recovery much more agreeable and provided him with the perfect excuse to retrieve and dust off his old toy soldiers, and in early 66CE he celebrated the return to Rome and triumph of Caesar Augustus, with the infamous Briton Eppitacus in tow as spoils of war.

The following years were of little note. Titus resumed his unfinished business in Britannia in late 67CE, this time as quaestor in suo anno, and participated in the maneuvres and strategies that would ultimately remove Ysulda of the Brigantes from power in 68CE. Once his quaestorship was over, Titus was sent back to Rome to keep an eye on the deposed Ysulda, who had by that time reached the capital after having fled to Colonia in Germania Inferior. He and Valeria made good use of this time to add to their family, and in 70CE Sulpicia Valeriana greeted the world for the first time. However, Titus did not have much time in which to get to know his youngest child, as Caesar sent him to Dacia to assume the post of legatus legionis for the XI Claudia. Thus, in 72CE Titus commemorated news of his brother’s election as consul from quite a distance, nevertheless feeling much pride at Quintus’ accomplishment.

It is now 74CE and Titus is back in Rome following the completion of his term in Dacia. For the time being he is kept busy by all the catching up with family and affairs of the city, but is of two minds about whether he should aim for a new assignment to the provinces or begin to climb up the ladder in earnest and seek a praetorship.

Liv | GMT+1 | PM/DM (Liv#5452)

 @Gothic

Ugh. Had the other slave ever heard of venting one's frustrations? Clio didn't expect him to have any decision-making powers, or even suggestion powers for that matter. And given that her own condition was one of servitude as well, it was inconceivable for her to go to his masters and make a proposition. As for her domina, what was or was not included in the admission price was the furthest thing from her mind, and Clio would not be the one to bring it to its forefront. "I'm well aware of that," she replied with irritation. "Do you think I would able to do that? Go and talk to them?!" She shook her head half in disbelief, half in resignation.

She trailed after him, turning her head slightly to the left, then to the right, then to the left again so as to take in her surroundings. The building was indeed impressive: solid and spacious, and yet fancifully decorated. A pity about the damp air, but all in all, it seemed to be a very decent place to be working in as a slave... if one ignored the more personal services that could be purchased by the patrons.

Clio's face lit up at the change in subject, and she hugged the bundle of clothes closer to her chest as if to bring her closer to Annia Comna. "Yes, she truly is a formidable person. Just, intelligent and kind. Far kinder to me than I deserve," she smiled fondly. "Domina has never treated me badly nor let anyone else do so. I am very blessed to call her my mistress." Fortuna had indeed smiled upon Clio when she was bought into the Canici-Phisceri, and she would forever be grateful for it.

It was only after singing her domina's praises that Clio came to realise that maybe the other slave had never had a proper master of his own; there was a certain melancholy in the way he had spoken. All of a sudden, she pitied him. "Have you always worked here? Were you born into servitude?"

@Atrice

No baskets or boxes, really? For such a grand bath complex, it seemed to be lacking in some basics. "Given what you charge for admission, your masters should be able to commission a few wickers to make baskets," Clio muttered under her breath. Perhaps the moist environment did lead to premature rot, but it wasn't like wood and reed were prohibitively expensive, not to mention that acquisition costs could easily be recouped by renting out the containers to bathers.

Her gaze hardened. "No, it is my first time in this complex," she replied tersely. Her domina had not seen fit to bring her along until that morning, and right then and there that became a new thorn on Clio's side - brought about by some cheeky thermae slave, on top of it. If she were to visit this place with Annia Comna again, Clio could only hope they would be attended to by a humble slave instead of this know-it-all again.

She had no choice. "Very well." Clio turned her back on the young man and began carefully bundling up her domina's belongings in her arms, careful to shield them from his view with her body. What to do with the little leather pouch? And the rings? Clio couldn't very well wear them herself, it would be most improper. Into the pouch they went, supported gently by Clio's dark fingers so they wouldn't clink -an attractive sound for a thief - when they touched the coins. But where to hide the purse? If she let it hang from her wrist and relied on domina's clothes to hide it, the string could and would be cut in the blink of an eye, or someone could just tug it out of her grasp. Clio allowed herself a few seconds of brain racking and then came to the only logical conclusion.

A look over her shoulder confirmed that the other slave didn't seem to have a good visual on her machinations. Still, for good measure, she shifted a little to the right, hoping to obstruct his view further. With quick and furtive gestures Clio settled the leather purse against her breast, between the strophium and her skin, and adjusted it so the contents wouldn't jingle as she moved. Short of putting the pouch in a body cavity, this was the best hiding place she could think of, as long as undressing was not required.

Satisfied with her plan, Clio faced the bath slave again, her arms cradling the fine fabrics as if a newborn baby. "I'm ready. Lead the way." The young man had better not try and lure her to a dark deserted corner of the thermae... if worst came to worst, she would bite and scratch and scream, and her masters could sue the baths for incurred damages. She still had her suspicions, but had grown slightly emboldened by the realisation of how bad it would look for someone to attack her.

@Atrice

Clio furrowed her brow as the bath slave gave her a once-over. If he was going to appraise her like that, he should at least learn to be discreet about it! Although, now that she thought about it, he likely hadn't had a master to teach him how to spy on others or study them with sufficient class and poise. He probably attended to all sorts of patrons, too, not just the wealthy and well-mannered - and of course any greasy Gaius from the subura would ignore the slave's gaze, or even mistake it for an invitation to acquire a more personal service. So, if Clio were inclined to be benevolent, it wasn't really the poor sod's fault. Except she was not, because these capsarii were smooth-talking and nimble-fingered, and therefore she had to be on the lookout.

"Quite sure. My domina was very clear in her orders." Like a lioness protects her cubs, so would Clio guard the diaphanous bundle. Her lips thinned at the other slave's mention of a shelf. Did he believe in the 'out of site, out of mind' adagio? He did have a point, though. The fabrics of her lady's garments were delicate, and the gods knew who or what had been in touch with the bench they were placed on. She cast a quick glance at the clothes, satisfied that the small leather purse with Annia's rings and coin was well hidden by the fabric, and went back to stare at the young man.

An annoyed sigh escaped her lips. "Indeed. Do you have a basket, or perhaps a small box?" His friendliness had to be a façade, a thief's trick to allay Clio's suspicions. Did he think her a fool? That he merely had to beckon and she would follow him like a puppy? He was sorely mistaken. She pursed her lips. "I shall follow you after I've put them in a proper container." There was no way she was just going to gather the bundle in her arms and happily trail after him through the enormous building, she hadn't been that naïve in years.

"It is of no consequence to me. I can bathe more privately at home," Clio replied with a hint of self-satisfaction. While it was true that the complete thermae experience was quite enjoyable, she found it enough to peruse the domestic balneum. There were always many watchful eyes at the public baths, not to mention the questionable contents of the bath water. The massages were, indeed, very good, from what Clio had heard - she had yet to part with some of her meagre savings and experience for herself the deftness of the slaves' hands.

She smiled again. "... A basket?" If he was trying to distract her by convincing her to become a patron too, it wasn't working.

@Atrice