Sara

Ovinia listened, steeling herself and moving on to stare mindlessly at the next painting to try and distract herself. When he was finished, she felt his eyes on her and she let out a breath, exhaling, shoulders falling slightly and a relieved expression filtering onto her face. They had made progress. "It fits." She nodded with a deep swallow and a sigh. She still didn't look at Lucius. "And...I don't know if it makes it better or worse that he's done this to so many people, Jason only mentioned his cousin." She bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head, "Were they alright? The others that he...?" She finally glanced to him, dark eyes filled with curiosity and fear. That he'd done this before, more than once, was startling but the fact that he had gotten away with it was moreso. "I presume these others are not patricians..." She said by way of an explanation as to how he'd carried on undetected. Nobody cared about slaves and plebs and freedmen being slashed in the streets. She glanced round to see her slaves, in the distance. It seemed her girl was engaging the man in conversation and for once, he wasn't looking at her. She took the opportunity to release her death grip on her cloak and lightly brush Lucius' hand. She didn't hold it, but the contact was enough to calm her. "You've made progress. I should have had more faith in you." she offered, as a small joke - her first in a week. TAG: @Chevi

She glanced sideways at him as he said he had news and stilled her fingers, bunching them into her cloak so they wouldn't shake. If it was serious news, would the buffoonish centurion not have come back to the Domus? Unless...they'd taken matters into their own hands. Which she wouldn't have been averse to - she only wanted to watch him suffer for what he'd done. "No," She tried to project a little bit of strength and gave him a wan smile, "I want to. I think the only thing that will make me feel better is knowing it is..." She winced, trying to find the right words, "Being dealt with." That was a diplomatic way of putting it, wasn't it? "So?" She prompted. TAG: @Chevi

She understood his meaning and despite herself, her lips quirked in slight amusement. He'd be the best read Vigiles if nothing else, with his education and his wit. She felt his eyes on her as she studied the wall paintings in front of her, and self consciously wrapped the cloak tighter, lips pursing. She had never really minded being looked at before, but now it felt desperately uncomfortable. "Fine." She bluffed. She didn't feel fine; the wounds still smarted when she moved wrong, and the nightmares were worse than they had been immediately following everything. The vanity she suffered with all her life was likewise bruised at the thought of the ugly scars she'd wear for the rest of her life. Her father was still musing over what lie he could concoct to explain them. She was not fine, and didn't look it. For somebody with Hispanian blood she looked pale and tired, although the fine clothes went someway to offset it, keen observers would see she wasn't herself. "I didn't know if you'd gotten my note." She said as she drifted over to look at the next panel. This was odd; as if she was playing out a scene from an ancient history. "or if you'd be working." She shook her head, vaguely amused by the thought of a patrician working. "How is work?" She was trying to keep the conversation light, but that question had a double meaning. None of this was helped, of course, by just how bloody awkward she was feeling standing a polite distance away from a man that had kissed her like she'd never experienced before. But that, somehow, felt like a lifetime ago. TAG: @Chevi

Ovinia already hated this. It was her first time outside since it happened, which felt like years ago but had only been a week - if that. Her wounds were healing nicely, according to the medicus, although she felt the discomfort of the stitches in her hip as she walked, bundled up like a lamb before shearing. She'd claim it was for the cold, if anybody pressed her, but the chiton and palla drawn up over her hair and then a heavy, lined cloak on top of it was more to make herself the least enticing thing to look at possible. Her fingers clutched the cloak even tighter about herself as the crowds grew heavier on the walk through the gates that led to the portico. The argument, the day prior, with her father had been bruising. Not physically, of course, but she felt weighted down with the judgement in his eyes and the look of expectation on his face. She couldn't tell if the great Praetor Camillus blamed her for her misfortune, or was just frustrated that he could not fix it. Either way, his determination that they had to act like normal meant that she'd been told she should take her usual walk up at the Portico. It would be curious if she didn't. She was, apparently, also to attend Nessenia's domus that evening for cena. The thought made her stomach flip and an anxious, drawn expression to settle on her pale face. Her father hadn't listened when she'd said she didn't feel up to it. It was her duty, he'd been very clear. At least she was not alone anymore. As well as one of her female attendants, she was now trailed by an enormous, hulking man who had been tasked with following her every move, ten paces behind, to keep an eye. He spoke precious little, but despite initial reticence, she found the slave's company reassuring. No madman with a knife was going to get through him. Nor were they going to get through the man she was meeting. She felt herself exhale in relief as she saw Lucius, glancing at the paintings. She wanted to smile when she realised what he was looking at, but couldn't quite summon one. They were on awkward footing, she knew that, but it was made worse by her attendants. She glanced over her shoulder and offered a nod at the two slaves. The girl with her had been the one to hold back the centurion and she seemed to get the message. Her great big hulking man, however, didn't. "I know this man - he is the one who came to visit me after..." She cleared her throat, "With his centurion. He's with the vigiles." The man gave a little shrug and Ovinia, frustration rising, snapped; "You can stay, but stay thirty paces behind me." the man arched a brow, "Dominus said to stay ten..." Ovinia huffed, "Well your dominus isn't here, but your domina is!" The man recoiled a little and glanced at the slave girl for reassurance who nodded at him. Satisfied - for now at least, he let Ovinia walk ahead to Lucius. She gave him a wary, tiny smile. "Has your opinion on Narcissus changed much on second viewing?" TAG: @Chevi

January, 77AD Mid-morning was always a slow time for the brothel; workers were...working, the drunks were only just getting their first wine of the morning and nobody could stomach the thought of a whore before food. Well, most people couldn't; judging by the sounds drifting from one of the little rooms occupied by one of her colleagues, some men could. A mid-morning on a rainy January, however, was even quieter. They'd barely had a man between them today and it looked likely to stay that way, at least until the post-dinner rush later. She relished these little snatched moments of calm - even as the drizzle petered in through the holes in the ceiling - remnants from the Earthquake that her dominus had, only now, begun to fix. The Elysium was a dank, dark place - the soot on the walls from the lamps and tallow fat candles casting it in a dingy light, the small rooms where the girls worked separated only by curtains from the corridor where she now lingered. Her dominus had tried - a few chairs and a couch had been squeezed into the space, but nobody could call it luxurious. Glancing around the other girls and stray man that worked with her here, they weren't exactly glamorous either. She adjusted the folds of her toga, feeling the coldness eat at the uncovered skin of one of her arms and her legs. "How was the baker's boy?" Eris asked her, her trademark feline grin on her face. "Quick." Ione replied in her accented Latin and the faintest hint of a smile. She liked Eris - she had the confidence that Ione would never have, the confidence born of somebody who had grown up here and was written about on half the walls of Rome. Apparently. "Probably for the best," She chuckled and shook her head, "His fathers not much better." Ione knew that too. Four months here had given her a good introduction to the regular clients of the Elysium. The thought turned her stomach this early in the morning. A head ducked through the curtained door that led to the street and one of the dominus' men glared back at them. "Fix yourselves up. Polite company coming in." What 'fix yourselves up' meant in the context of a bunch of slaves who spent the majority of their time looking as unpresentable as possible, she didn't know. For her part, Ione tried to run her fingers through her hair to free it of knots. She'd get it done later, by one of the other girls, before the evening rush. She saw Eris and the others, eyes widen and smirks settle on the faces as they turned expectantly to the door. Ione tried to replicate the coy, flirtatious look but couldn't quite muster it and so stood awkwardly as a man ducked through into the corridor. TAG: @Sarah

November, 76AD Ione tried her best with the bucket but she really was the worst possible choice to be sent out to fetch water from the pump. Her arms shook even heaving it - empty - further and further up the queue of chattering slaves. At this time of day she could be spared from the brothel, but that meant only for other errands and refilling their water was a key chore that everybody hated, and somehow seemed to always fall on her shoulders. The queue was long and she cast a worried glance back over her shoulder, debating whether it would be worse to be late back or to come back with no water. She bit her lip, glancing nervously between the queue and the Elysium which she could see only a few hundred paces down the street. It wasn't hard to work out that, that was where she came from. The thin cloak she wore overtop of the toga wasn't exactly concealing and nor was the split lip she was sporting but few paid her much attention. The only people here were slaves or freedmen, and given they were in Regio IV, they had no right to look down on a whore. Nobody here was rich, and nobody here was in the business of judgement. For the most part. She still felt an errant hand tug on the corner of her toga as she moved out of the line and glanced around to see a man, leering, clearly still drunk from the nightmare. "Even that will cost you I'm afraid." And he immediately let go. It always seemed that she was enticing when considered free, but the second you mentioned coin she became about as interesting as mud. She figured it would be easier to explain the absence of water by a grabby customer than spend an hour waiting for it, and so moved back down the street, straining under the weight of the empty bucket until she was a few paces away from the Elysium. She took a moment, leant against the wall to catch her breath. This early there was no need for a man on the door. She bit her lip, trying to fashion her excuse as best she could and set the bucket down on the floor...unfortunately, right in the path of an oncoming pedestrian... TAG: @Atrice

Ovinia's lips parted a little in surprise, a curious expression on her face. He was scared? For her? She blinked, but...understood. She'd been scared for him too, when he'd intervened. Petrified, really, in a way that she hadn't been about herself. She gave him an awkward attempt at a smile. "I'll be fine." She commented, with no knowledge of whether she actually would be...she was confident in the abilities of Lucius' medicus though - he'd patched her wrist up just fine. "And look at it this way," She gave him a half-smile again, "You get to be my nurse now." TAG: @Chevi

"Since when do I listen to you." She offered and tried to give him an eyeroll but...that didn't really work with one eye open and functioning, and not swollen shut. She gave him a weak smile though and nodded. "Tomorrow. I'll thank him tomorrow." She had nothing to give him or Lucius by way of a gift, but hopefully her words would be enough. She blinked. She hadn't even said thank you to him. "Thank you." She blurted out with force, now the thought had come to her. "I mean it..." She swallowed and reached again for his hand that was on her shoulder, "Thank you." She gave him a look which could have said a hundred million different things. She, herself, wasn't sure what it meant but she finally withdrew her hand and gave him a half smile. "Do you not need sleep yourself?" TAG: @Chevi

She did not believe him. She had been beaten halfway to the afterlife by three men, it did not make sense that one-handed he should be fine. She tried her best to give him an assessing look, but that was a failure. "His full name is Decimus Statius." she said on exhale, trying to focus through the pain. She had, previous to the war, little faith in the vigiles to do anything and certainly not catch a man like Decimus. Now though, her opinion might have changed a touch. "I can watch you do your exercises from here," She tried to joke and her hand sank into his touch, "I...am not going out again." She gave a wavering smile. The attack had frightened her, scared her half to death but it felt almost a relief now it was done. She had been waiting for the day for her past to catch up with her and it had and she was still standing. Just. "I need to thank Marius as well," She said quickly and tried to push herself up. TAG: @Chevi

"Decimus was," She swallowed, fingers still gripping his hand. It was comforting. "He and I...I was young and he told me he loved me," she shook her head, "He asked me to...s-spy on some of my fathers clients for him and then we could marry and I asked my father and..." she swallowed, the effort of speaking exhausting her, "His relationship with my father never recovered...he backed him, to the hilt during the war he must have...lost everything. He was so rich..." She knew the feeling. "I didn't know the men he was with." she offered and glanced at him, trying to summon some strength and authority, "Has a medicus seen you?" TAG: @Chevi

He felt bad, she could see it in the tender way he brushed the hair out of her face and in his voice. She swallowed. She'd never seen him look so...vulnerable before, besides perhaps a flash of it when he had found her at her old domus. She sighed and shook her head as much as she was able to and reached for his hand, tugging on it, squeezing his palm with her fingers. "No." She managed but every word felt like climbing a mountain, "They were going to do it whether you were there or not. Decimus I..." Tears filled her eyes and she shuddered. She had loved him, once. Wanted to marry him. "You can't let them go Lucius, they will try again." TAG: @Chevi

January, 77AD Ione hated this part. The rain was drizzling in a thin mist that soaked her to the bone and standing on a street corner in a gaudy yellow toga, hair plastered to her forehead, teeth chattering reminded her just how low she'd fallen. The fact that the Elysium's walls and roof were only just being reconstructed after the earthquake so many months ago should have meant she'd be happy to spend time outside of its walls, but fishing for business on a grey, dreary January day was hardly the escape she wanted. Nobody came looking for whores at midday, and those that did, did not want a half-frozen slip of a thing that was - she was sure - about as enticing as a block of marble. So she'd been sent out to try and entice some men in. It was not going well. She tried to adjust the folds of the toga and wished she'd been allowed to bring her cloak to conceal it, but no dice. Given that the only women that wore such garments were prostitutes - and cheap ones at that - she was immediately singled out with judgement glares and pitying glances by the passing people who ventured to look at her. She tried to plaster a smile on her face and fluttered her eyelashes at men who walked past. Nobody stopped, although she did garner a whistle from a man working on some scaffolding across the street. She made to move over to him, a grin like a Cheshire Cat on her lips but he waved a hand, signalling he wasn't interested. "Are you sure?" She teased as she moved within earshot, "You'd be surpr-" She was cut off as he turned his back and stalked to the other end of the platform, ignoring her. Men liked to look, but seldom few paid. Shuddering in the cold and at the rejection she stalked back to her spot, glancing around, desperately, for somebody. She was no good at fishing - the other girls and men had always been better at it than her, but she owed a debt for the wine pitcher that was smashed in her room last night by the drunken thug she was servicing and to repay it she needed a client. Anybody. Soon. TAG: Open!

She would have balked at the familiarity he was showing had she not been in so much desperate need for water. She did not, however, do as instructed and tried to gulp it down - leading to her spluttering as it hit her parched mouth. She tried again and this time, did manage a few small sips until she made a mewl of pain, urging him to let her back down. Her ribs were protesting at the movement. "I'm so sorry," She blinked with her good eye, swallowing down the water, "I...should not have gone out. I won't go out again." Because you let them go and they will try again. TAG: @Chevi

She didn't expect it to be him, nor did she expect the softness or concern in his voice. She blinked...with the one eye that could open and tried to angle her head so she could see him better. He looked about how she felt and she felt a wave of concern and guilt wash over her. "Sore." she choked in a hoarse, bemused voice and tried to smile for him but it came out more like a mangled grimace. "You're hurt..." She said with a frown and reached out a hand to his bad arm. She should never have got him involved. She should never have been out in the first place, she should have listened to him. "Everything hurts...and do we have water?" TAG: @Chevi

Ovinia squeezed her eyes shut as she heard retreating footsteps. They would never leave this city, she knew that and wondered if he did too. It didn't matter now though, she wasn't exactly going to be going out on a tour of the city any time soon. Not ever, if she could help it. She felt hands come to her side and flinched before releasing it was Marius himself, staring at her, white as a sheet. "You're okay." He said with uncharacteristic kindness. She cried out in pain as his hands went under her ribs and heaved her up. Her vision went at the motion, light finally dimming into darkness. When she woke, she had no idea how long she had been out but the pain was severe and everywhere. She couldn't think of one part of her body that didn't burn with an ache unlike anything she'd felt before, but most of it was concentrated on her left side, her thigh and her face. Her throat and her mouth were dry and she tried to look around, gauging where she was. Her room - with the little lamp burning on the small table next to her. It was windowless in here so she had no sense of the time. Calling out her voice was a hoarse, scratchy sound. "H-hello?" TAG: @Chevi

She would get out of here. She would, but she could barley push herself to a sitting position and every bit of her body protested at even that motion. She felt her world spin and tried to choke to regain her balance and her breath. She blinked up, seeing Lucius struggle although he was doing and admirable job. "I can't...I-" She protested and managed to drag her legs out in front of her, kicking limply to try and unbalance one of the men. It worked, but she got a boot on her thigh for the effort and she screamed through her teeth. That scream masked the sounds of heavy footsteps, bursting both through the slave door and round the corner. Marius was there along with several of the burlier household servants. Relief washed through her, although it did nothing to dilute the pain. "Sir." Marius said, clearly on edge and fingers itching. He didn't spare her a glance but she felt him step closer, almost in front of her. That was enough. Decimus pulled back and yanked the tunicas of the two men next to him, breathing hard, bloodied. He spat into the dirt next to her. "Enough...enough..." He knew he'd been bested and Decimus was nothing if not an expert manipulator, "We've got what we wanted." She could tell from his tone of voice that he'd got nowhere near what he wanted, "We'll go and we can be done with this..." TAG: @Chevi

Ovinia managed to protest with a weak; "No!" Before Lucius acted, but he hadn't headed it and she was in fit state to intervene. Her vision was blurred, dim and her head was bounding as if somebody would not stop stamping on it. She saw the other two hesitate and tried to call out again. Her voice was hoarse and she felt like she was running out of air. And time. "M-MARIUS!" The hesitation stopped and they ran to join Decimus, now stumbling from whatever blow Lucius had inflicted. She saw a flash of something. A knife. She choked. "K-knife..." She managed by way of warning though if anybody heard her, she didn't know. TAG: @Chevi

Ovinia finally managed to manipulate her head round to see the scene in front of her as the sandalled foot released her from the ground. She could see that the two men Decimus was with were edging backwards, clearly intent on making a run for it. Her once friend was standing his ground though, fingers twitching. Ovinia shot Lucius a pleading look. She knew he couldn't win and then they'd both be dead. But she didn't want to die either; last month she had, last month she would have prayed for something like this, but now...she swallowed and tried to back herself closer to the wall. "Do you know what her father did to us?" Decimus choked, furious, "We put everything behind him and he left us in the fucking dirt. I'm a fucking pleb now," Having lost his equite status, "We can't get him and her brothers are in the fucking mines," Ovinia choked. She had no idea where they were and the thought made her already trembling body heave, "But she's here and she deserves more punishment than a cripple like you can dish out." Decimus spat at Lucius and as if to prove his point, kicked her across the face. Her world span and threatened darkness. She managed to let out a feeble scream of; "Marius!" as she tried to blink the stars away. TAG: @Chevi

Decimus whipped his head around at the voice but all Ovinia could do was desperately try and claw air into her lungs. She was winded and having never been before, didn't understand. Her ribs burned and ached at the sensation as she tried to push herself up. A sandalled foot came down on her back to keep her where she was in the dirt of the street. "This doesn't concern you," Decimus sneered, his fingers flexing at his side. Had Ovinia been looking, she would have noted the way he glanced at Lucius' lame arm. "We're dealing with a traitor. Leave us be, citizen." Nobody moved for a moment and Ovinia's breath started to settle. She knew the voice. She just couldn't turn her head to see him. TAG: @Chevi

Ovinia had to decide what to shield; her face or her body and she chose the former, after the punch that left her crumbled against the wall. The blows, however, did not stop. She screamed again through gritted teeth and felt something crack in her midsection. The pain was unlike anything she'd felt before - worse than the cuts inflicted on her by the madman all those years ago and her own hand last month. She was bleeding, but didn't know where from and struggling to breathe. "We've been looking for two months," One of the men sneered, "Did you forget about me?" Ovinia choked. She knew the voice but in the pain, she couldn't place it. A hand came to her chin and forced it up. She blinked through tear filled eyes. Decimus. She choked. "W-why?" Was all she could muster. At least they had stopped kicking and hitting. "Your fucking father," He sneered - a look she'd never seen on his face, "I lost everything with his treason, everything!" He kicked her and she screamed out again in pain; "HELP ME!" before another blow to her chest rendered her speechless and breathless. She felt hands tug at her tunica and choked, trying to scream but no sound came out. TAG: @Chevi

A month later Things had...settled, after the dramatics at her ruined domus. Life took on a sort of monotony that was comforting, if she ignored her own itch to get back out into the city; she helped Lucius with his exercises with the rigour of an actual medicus, she portioned out the opium and the strong, unwatered wine with precision until the doses of both were half what they were when she arrived. She slept in her little box room - but now it was appointed with drapes that she'd purloined from other, spare rooms in the place and storage boxes she had rifled through. The servants, likewise, had started to ease off. Whether that was because they were afraid after her theatrics and the scar on her wrist, or they had genuinely come to not mind her, she didn't know. But it was comfortable. She played the part he needed her too in public; the down beaten slave that knew her place, but she enjoyed the freedoms he offered her when in private. Including the ability to speak her mind. It was how she had come to be outside, unescorted. She had badgered and badgered and badgered her dominus that she needed to visit the eastern medicus and the markets and assured him she was neither going to run nor get herself into trouble. Finally, a week after she'd raised it, he had relented and she was walking home now; arms laden and smile on her face. Not that one could really see it - concealed under the new veil he had bought her. But somebody clearly had seen it, and seen her. She didn't notice the heavy footsteps following her until she turned the corner that led onto the street of the domus. She saw them out of the corner of her eye. Three men, eyes lingering on her. She hurried her steps, and they did too. She crossed the street. So did they. She felt her heart hammer a frantic rhythm against her ribs and tried to speed up. You're being ridiculous, she told herself. She wasn't being ridiculous. She ducked into the side street that led to the slave's entrance of the domus, fingers jangling the keys, trying to find the right one. She didn't see the punch coming until she felt a stinging pain shoot across her cheek and she slammed into the wall. "Found you, bitch." She choked and let out a blood curdling scream. TAG: @Chevi

Gods she really was completely unlearned; not that it bothered him, in many ways it would be better to take a wife who was unsure of herself, she would be easier to guide after all. He had no time nor patience for women who thought they had the right to act like men, to parade themselves in masculine spheres. No - whilst Sosia's innocence was on one hand slightly grating to a man of the world, it was also an opportunity. He hid his smile as he sipped his wine. "Of course." He stood and extended a hand to help her rise. His domus was not the largest nor the most well appointed, but he figured for a girl who had spent most of her life in the country, it would nonetheless be impressive. "You said you like the outdoors?" He arched a brow, "The gardens perhaps. They are my eldest daughters favourite." He let go of her hand and indicated with his head to follow him. Whilst it was almost winter, the gardens were still lovely; a fountain trickled and winter blooms filled the air with smells and colours. He smiled, satisfied to himself. "Is it much like your home?" TAG: @Atrice

It made sense, in a logical sort of way. But he looked bone tired and...exhausted. Whether that was the energy of this morning, the party last night, the pain in his arm or the fatigue of having to keep up a pretence, she didn't know. She merely nodded her head silently in passive understanding. "Everybody should apologise to everybody." She gave him a weary, tired, painfully sad smile. "You should apologise for keeping me as your slave and what you did, my father should apologise for dragging his family into the conflict and leaving us to our fates when he left this plane. I should apologise for..." So many things, "To my own slaves. I never understand. I...thought their loves were comfortable. That being a slave was more freeing than my own life." She choked, upset, at the thought. How many pretty young house slaves had been forced into the beds of her brothers or her father or visitors? Probably too many to count. She remembered the whippings and the beatings and the fear in their eyes. "We're all sorry." She sniffed and wiped her eyes, but forgot there was blood on her hands and ended up smearing it on her face. "Thank you." She swallowed and gave him a look of meaning, "For this...for telling me..." She gestured to his arm. "I...can be an actress," She gave him a weak, wavering smile. "I can play the part of the down trodden, abused slave. If you need me to." TAG: @Chevi

Ovinia listened, her breathing slowly, her heartbeat settling as he spoke. She'd never even considered it could have been anything other than a wound inflicted on him. She'd suspected a sword or an axe or maybe trampled down by a horse. Not...that. She didn't interrupt him though, she was quiet and still and let him say his peace. She noted he didn't look up at her...was he...embearassed? She blinked, utterly confused. "Why would what happened be a bad thing?" She asked, her voice scratchy from the crying, sounding hoarse. She knew that didn't make her sense - her mind felt addled, like mushed fruit. Maybe her wrist was bleeding more than she thought. "I- I mean, why is that less noble than what they assumed? You tried to do good - you were doing your job I..." She frowned. She knew there were things in the male sphere she would never understand; wartime heroics undoubtedly amongst them. "I think what you did, how you were injured was braver than pulling innocent...rebel families out of houses and executing them." She swallowed. "Why don't you say what really happened?" TAG: @Chevi

She should have pulled away her hand but found it oddly...comforting. She moved to grip his index finger with her own, blood smeared hand and let out a sob. "The city, the emperor, your friends would disagree with that." She let out a hollow, pained sounding laugh as her sobs became sniffles and she let her head roll back against the wall. This room had once been painted with the most beautiful frescoes of flowers and posies. Now the walls were black and dark with ash and soot. It fitted. "What do we do?" she swallowed and glanced down at him, eyes red and raw. She didn't trust him implicitly, but she saw his own blood snake down his arm...she certainly trusted him more than she did yesterday. "How do I live my life as your slave, knowing that's all I'm ever going to be? How do you keep going?" She dropped her hand and lightly skirted her fingers over his injured shoulder. TAG: @Chevi