Sara

"Pannonia..." She mumbled against his chest, trying to distract herself from his placating words. Where on the Gods earth was Pannonia? She didn't believe him. He could have placated her until the pigs in the villa's gardens flew, but she wouldn't believe him. She should not have been outside with only one female slave. She should not have been so pliant. She should not have offered up her own belt as a restraint. It would have - she figured - been better to die trying to escape than suffer the indignity of what he did and might have done had she not fainted. She supposed that was one small mercy; she still had her virtue intact, although if people found out about the attack she supposed few would believe she did. She groaned as he came to a stop and glanced up. Torches hung from brackets were momentarily blinding and it took longer than usual for her eyes to focus on the painted picture of an elephant that adorned the baker. She nodded. "Up the hill," She swallowed and settled back down against his chest. "Four...five doors up, it's yellow and red with a green door." Just get me home. TAG: @Sharpie

She felt the hollowness that had filled her chest over the preceding weeks slowly grow larger. It was similar to what Lucius had suggested, and Marcus in his own - flirtatious - way. She didn't like to be pitied, it sat uncomfortably on her shoulders, but the men in her life seemed determined to see her as some sort of victim; as if she didn't have all of the riches and the jewels and friends that she had. She supposed, though, she was bothered because she knew what he was saying was true. She was her fathers only daughter and the youngest of the lot; she had grown up seeing her brothers run riot through the house, start on their divergent careers, flirt shamelessly and tire out the kitchen slaves whilst she was left cloistered; spinning her wool, stitching her embroidery and practicing how to account with her mother. "Well," She said with a tight smile and a little shrug, "I'm glad you have such opportunities, and that you're happy." Jealousy was seeping into her blood, making her irritable. She tried her best to keep it at bay. "But you can wish all you like Alexius, and sometimes I might too, but it doesn't change anything for me. My life has been predetermined since I was a girl and that is the way of things." She tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder and cupped her chin in her palm, glaring down at the sands. This trip was supposed to make her feel better - not make her feel like an uneducated prisoner! "Perhaps I should leave my family and be adopted as a fruit seller or a prostitute or a children's maid. Would you rather one of those lives for me?" TAG: @Atrice

She smiled a little at his own mild glance; a better neutral look than the most astute politicians she'd met. He'd clearly go far in the senate, if that was his chosen path. His own words held the same level of meaning as her look, it seemed and she arched a brow, a wry smile settling on her lips. She had been wondering how she'd explain her very clear disapproval at both Marcus and Lucius without landing any of them in hot water with their peers; she was glad in that moment she had the foresight to concoct a simple enough story. "I did, thank you - although I am presuming by your question you saw my disagreement with Marcus Junius and Lucius Vipsanius? I thought I extricated myself from them with grace, but clearly not." She kept her voice light but her dark eyes were inquisitive and sparkling with amusement. "They were needling me, about my brother Lucius - who accompanied me and I thought they could say it to his face if I found him." She shrugged lightly. "Apparently neither man has grown out of their youthful amusement at teasing young women." That was a better story, she thought, than stating outright Marcus had invited a prostitute. Either Tiberius knew - in which case she'd seem prudish and foolish, or he didn't, and Marcus could lose a friend. She didn't particularly want either outcome although it occurred to her in that moment that lying to the face of an imperial was no better as an option. Her face fell a fraction and she glanced back to centre, at the crowds who parted for them. Ah well. Too late, you idiot. "But besides those few moments, it was an enjoyable evening. Certainly more fun than some of the parties I host for my father." Now her mother was too unwell for many of her duties as materfamilias and so they fell on Ovinia's young shoulders. "I suspect it might have been more useful than fun for your male guests though." She commented thoughtfully as they walked. It had clearly rained in the night and the pavements were slick with water. She held her chiton and her palla up at her ankles to keep them from dragging. "How many friendships and alliances in the senate were forged at gatherings like that, thirty years ago, I wonder?" She cast a sideways glance to him again, her expression curious, "If indeed you and your male guests wish to go into politics, of course." TAG: @Sarah

"S-Sarmatia." She murmured tiredly, a frown creasing her brow against his chest. "Where is that?" She knew the famous provinces, but hadn't heard of that one. Was it even in the Empire? She mewled in pain as he accidentally misstepped but tried his best to recover. She was so tired. She wanted this to end. "Y-yes I did. I..." She swallowed thinking of that night, upset welling up in her chest. What if her friends found out? What if..."Are we nearly there?" She choked, tears spilling over her cheeks. "I can't...Why did this happen..." TAG: @Sharpie

She shifted in her bed, wincing, but moving to face him as he took a seat in the chair her mother had vacated a few hours before. She nodded as he spoke. That sounded like her father, and she couldn't blame him. She'd had much the same concerns as him last night with Jason. She blinked as his hands found hers and she flinched, unintentionally. She schooled her breath back into a normal rhythm and then placed her fingers gently, cautiously over his. "Not that bad." She shifted and winced again. Perfect timing. She exhaled deeply, and then drew in a breath, filling up her lungs as deeply as she could. "A cut, on my back. It has been stitched," It would scar. It would be there forever. She glanced down from him to her lap, looking at her legs tremble under the sheets. "And on my hip. That's it." She swallowed, her mouth running dry. She gestured to the wine pitcher - strong stuff, some of her fathers best, on the table next to them. "Wine?" She held out shaking fingers for a cup. "You won't find him." She said after some silence, "He's done this b-before." TAG: @Chevi

"I trust you." She said simply, blindly. She had no choice, but the sincerity in his voice and the way he tried to hold her was comforting. As he picked her up she made a mewling sound of pain, and dutifully buried her face into his shoulder so she couldn't be seen by passers-by. To them, she probably looked like a drunken fool being taken home by a lover or a husband. That suited her fine, as long as nobody saw the truth. She fluttered her eyes shut and pressed her face into his tunic all the harder, wanting to block out the noise and the commotion. She felt the blood drip down her spine as he walked. "Mhmm." She made a sound of protest. She didn't want to talk. She wanted to forget. But she understood what he was doing. The two wounds would not kill her but she had already fainted once and the bleeding hadn't stopped. She blinked open her watery eyes. "T-the people." How hollow that sounded now. "I liked the people; my friends, e-events. Parties." She sniffed and shook her head. "Y-you're not from Italia." she guessed, trying to keep awake, body trembling ion his arms. TAG: @Sharpie

She wobbled at the suggestion. She was already shamed and now she'd be carried through the streets, bloodied and bared for all and sundry to see? But as she glanced out of the shack and the crowds that circled, she knew he was right. It didn't make the idea any more tolerable though and she found herself leaning heavily against the doorframe, trying to find purchase. I just want to go home. The name though, broke her out of her reverie and she glanced at him, anguish etched onto her youthful features. She leaned up to grip the neck of his tunic, scrunching the rough fabric in between her fingers. "He cannot know what has happened to me." She liked Tiberius, they'd even shared the walk through the streets of Rome together only a couple of months prior. He couldn't know what had happened to her. He couldn't. "You tell him you helped a random woman if y-you must, but you do not tell him it was me. Do you understand?" She waited for confirmation and then dropped her grip on his tunic with a sob. Everything hurt. Everything ached and she just wanted to sleep. With a shaky breath she moved to drape her arm - the opposing one to the wound at her scapula - around his neck. She fiddled with the other, pulling his cloak up and about her face and letting her hair down over it. People were likely already drunk, hopefully nobody would see her, recognise her. "Take me home." She sniffed, and waited to be picked up. TAG: @Sharpie

Tentatively, and with a skittish glance, she accepted his arm and leaned heavily on it, squeezing her eyes shut as pain rolled over her back at the motion of movement in her arm. It could have been worse, she told herself, but that was a small comfort. At his question she shook her head vehemently, catching his meaning immediately. "No." She choked out, the one firm word she'd uttered since he'd set foot in this room. "He," She swallowed, bile rising in her throat again. "I...I thought he w-wanted to," She felt something and from her limited education she'd deduced what it was, "B-but he didn't." She was emphatic on that point, she had to be. "I was in front of him, and he...I..." She swallowed and shuddered deeply, cheeks wet with tears, "I fainted before he could...I think...I don't know." She remembered scrambling, desperately for breath, faced pressed into the wooden wall, the feeling of him behind her, the burning of her back, of her hip, of her wrists and then...darkness. "I want to go home," She sobbed and made wobbling steps towards the door, hissing in pain at the wound on her hip as she did. She clutched his arm tighter as she got to the doorframe, leaning on it for a moment, trying to cover herself as best as she could with his cloak and catching her breath. "W-who do you work for? At the Palace?" She'd need to send her thanks to him, a vague thought came to her. TAG: @Sharpie

The Ovinii-Camili The Ovinii-Camili are an important patrician family in Rome. Currently I play Ovinia Camilla, the youngest child and only daughter in the family but I'd love her family to be in play! Most of them are open books, waiting for you to shape them so if you have any questions on the family or want to know more about their histories, just message me (Sara#2296) on Discord, or drop me a PM! Gaius Ovinius Camillus Paterfamilias and Praetor – 64 years old (born 12AD) - Straight - PB: Charles Dance (suggested) Gaius is the paterfamilias of the household and boy don't you know it. He runs his household and his family within a cm of the rules of their society. He is a stickler for duty and appearances and doesn't suffer fools gladly. He can be cold and discerning, but that is what makes him an excellent politician. He has risen to the ranks of Praetor where he now sits. He removed his family to Greece during the Civil War whilst he went to the senate in exile in Antioch. Matia Tetulliana Materfamilias – 54 years old (born 22AD) - Straight - PB: Open (Latinx/Hispanic would be ideal, Lana Parilla suggested) Matia is a traditional Roman matron. She runs her slaves and her family, much like her husband, with strict adherence to their society's norms. However, age has caught up with her and she has been plagued with a mystery illness (which would now be diagnosed as fibromyalgia) which causes her great pains. She's been educating and allowing her daughter to run the household with her husband, in her absence when she is unwell. She has an olive complexion with some Hispanian blood from her relatives. Gaius Ovinius Camillus Minor Eldest son – 30 years old (born 46AD) - Orientation: Open - PB: Open (he has some 'Hispanian blood', so a Latinx PB is an option)! Gaius is the heir to the Ovinii-Camili and he acts like it. Confident to the point of arrogance, he revels in his position. He has a wife (Viria) and young son (Lucius Minor). He does not get along with Ovinia. Beyond this, his dreams and passions are open! Viria Saena Gaius' wife – 24 years old (born 52AD) - Orientation: Open - PB: Open (Tamsin Egerton is a suggestion)! Gaius' wife is a sweet young woman. She has a young son (Lucius), who was born in 75AD. She married Gaius in 70AD so the reason for the late conception is up to you. She broadly gets along with Ovinia and her new family, but her aspirations and motivations are up to you! Lucius Ovinius Camillus - Taken by Sarah Second son – 28 years old (born 48AD) - Orientation: Open - PB: Open (he has some 'Hispanian blood', so a Latinx PB is an option)! Ovinia's favourite brother, Lucius is easy going and affable. He has served in the legions as a Tribute but the rest of his career path and what he's up to now, are up to you! Tertius Ovinius Camillus Second son – 24 years old (born 52 AD) - Orientation: Open - PB: Open (he has some 'Hispanian blood', so a Latinx PB is an option)! The youngest son, and third child of the Ovinii-Camili, Tertius is a bit of an enigma to his sister. He's a very open character and his personality, desires, ambitions etc are completely unfleshed out and yours for the making!

She sank into his arms, her own right one coming around his shoulders. Why this one man - who up until four days ago was both a perfect stranger and a colossal pain in her side - was now the most comforting thing imaginable, she didn't know. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and choked. Her fingers clung to his tunic. She started to cry; tears dripping down and staining his clothing darker. She sniffed. When he pulled back, she felt the loss of his touch and eased herself back against the soft down pillows behind her. It didn't occur to her how unintentionally intimate this moment was; nobody saw her private room, and certainly no man saw her in bed. Such thoughts were completely redundant now though - this wasn't a romantic moment; it was painful and awkward and humiliating and most of all it was business. He'd been summoned here to do his job which was both a comfort and an embarrassment to her. How did I let this happen? "What did my father say?" She swallowed, trying to claw back some of her composure. She moved her hands up to swipe away the tears under her eyes, unintentionally flashing the red raw skin of her wrists. TAG: @Chevi

The centurion looked at Ovinia and then looked at Lucius, wariness writ large on his face. He was not a man good with...emotions. He was not a man good at very much, truth be told, but crying women and assaults were most certainly not in his repertoire. He nodded briskly; "Girl," He called to the slave, "Tell me about the man who brought her home." He gestured for Lucius to step inside the room as he moved out down the corridor with Lucia. Ovinia flicked her eyes over to Lucius. She hadn't slept, not really, not more than a few snatched minutes with the aid of a sleeping draught the medicus had left by her bed. She felt the flutter of something in her chest; a mixture of horror that he was seeing her like this and abject relief that he was here. Her father and her brothers had been brusque, cold even - demanding to know the excruciating details and questioning how she had found herself in such a position in the first place. She had received no comfort, besides her mother stroking her hair as she sobbed. Her fingers scrunched into the sheets and the blankets draped over her and she choked. "I'm fine." She wasn't, she really, really wasn't but she was not going to cry. She had shed so many tears last night she supposed she could fill the mare nostrum with them. "I'm fine." She repeated, swallowing down the lump in her throat, shaking her head. "I...don't know what to say." How could she say what had happened? How could she even start to? TAG: @Chevi

The little man was amusing to her; reminding her of her youth when sarcasm dripped from her tongue before she learned to reign it in. She supposed it was - in some ways - easier for him; that he couldn't talk meant that he couldn't openly be rude. That being said, his gestures spoke volumes. It was really quite impressive. She got his gist fairly quickly and grinned, indicating with her head to the gladiator being pawed over. "That's what happens with champions, or slave champions at least. Men...and women, I hear, want to ride the best of Rome." She wrinkled her nose as she surveyed the crowd, "Beats me why they want too though when there's perfectly talented guys and girls in the Venus for them to use at their leisure." Who would want a sweaty, smelly Charioteer after a race when you could have Helios or herself, after all? She arched a brow down at him and tilted her head. "I'm assuming your dominus didn't tell you about that part of the job, huh?" TAG: @Chevi

Gaius Ovinius Camillus was incensed. He had been since his daughter was bundled back into the house, bleeding, crying, barely coherent with a story that sounded so preposterous he thought she might have gone mad. Even as the medicus had left, wiping his bloodied fingers on his apron, assuring the paterfamilias that his daughter would heal and be fine, nothing could calm the storm clouds that gathered over the domus. The intensity of his anger had only continued to simmer as the night wore on and the morning broke, his hangover from the previous day's festivities finally abating to give him the sharp clarity that he'd always been known for. He wanted the man dead, but he needed discretion. Whilst the previous night he had been on the verge of summoning his kinsfolk into the streets with daggers and torches to hunt him down and tear him limb from limb, the morning light had cast his daughters situation in a new perspective. She was unmarried - by her own devices and petulant refusal of the suit of Vipsanius Roscius - and her honour would, undoubtedly, be called into question. A young woman found stripped, bleeding and assaulted in a shack would never make a match worthy of her gens. It needed to remain a secret, and it needed to be dealt with quietly. It's why he had summoned the vigiles once the morning had broken. He had been expecting the Tribune and so when the two men walked in; one ruddy faced and clearly nervous, and the other - taller, younger but no less confused looking, he thrust up his hands in annoyance. "They send me you two? Where is your Tribune, man?" He directed at the older one. The man blinked and cleared his throat, rolling back his shoulders to attempt to look important. Gaius Ovinius ground down on his teeth. "He sent me, Praetor Camillus, knowing you can trust my work," Gaius scoffed, "And your discretion I trust?" He interjected and the Centurion nodded hurriedly. "Of course, sir." Gaius Ovinius Camillus was an imposing man. Taller than most with a barrel chest and sharp, angular features that belied his displeasure easily. He pulled his shoulders back and exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes scanning the faces of the two vigiles like a hawk. "The only people who know what I am about to tell you are my family, a handful of my slaves and a slave from the Palatine. If one single word of this reaches anybody else, I will know it came from one of you and I promise you, I will ensure that your lives will be more painful than any slave in a salt mine. Am I understood?" He paused, dark eyes focused and unyielding. When he finally did speak again, it was quieter, his shoulder slumping ever so slightly. "My daughter was assaulted last night. She is recovering, and thank the Gods will be well in time but it appears it could have easily been a very different outcome. She tells me this man has tried before, and done this to others. You," He jabbed a finger at both of them, his voice getting more intense, "Will find the man that did this and you will do so as your top priority. The daughter of a Praetor, my only daughter, cannot go molested in a city. Do you understand me?" He exhaled sharply through his nose, his breathing rapid. When he had an affirmative, he gestured loosely with his hand to a slave. "Lucia will take you to see her. She is tired and not herself but assures me she will tell you everything you need to know." He flicked his wrist at the slave girl who cleared her throat and indicated with her head for the men to follow her. The domus was large and impressive (although it still smelt faintly of smoke) and when they drew to a door Lucia wrapped her knuckles once and then pushed it open. Inside, lay Ovinia in her bed - pale, with deep purple bags of tiredness under her red-rimmed eyes. Her hair was drawn back, revealing the bandage that wrapped under her tunica over her shoulder to conceal the stitched wound on her shoulder blade. Lucia cleared her throat. "Domina, the vigiles are here." TAG: @Chevi

Charis nodded and walked further into the atrium to the seats. She was about to put Peregrinus down and fetch one of the jugs of wine always laid out for unexpected guests when Varinia made her request. She blinked and glanced between the woman and her son. She knew there was absolutely no love lost between Teutus and his half-brother, and whilst it made her uncomfortable, she could hardly blame the man. The little, chubby-cheeked boy propped between the curve of her hip and her waist had usurped what should have been his. How much his mother felt similarly, Charis didn't know, but it made her wary. But Varinia was a free woman, and that mostly trumped Charis' opinions on the matter. Swallowing, she nodded and silently held out her son, wincing a little under his weight until he was settled, giggling, in the other woman's arms. She kept her eyes fixated on her son as Varinia spoke. That...was about the long and short of it. She was delicate in her wording though, Charis noted. She wondered if that was because Teutus had been, or because she simply wanted to spare Charis' blushes about being called on as a bed slave to a man twice her age. She interrupted, however, before Varinia asked her final question; "Teutus is my dominus, not my friend." She could never be too careful. She liked Teutus, she did, despite the complexity of their relationship but she equally knew he wasn't on her level anymore and vipers lay in wait for her to make a mistake and reveal that. Tertius' bodyslave amongst them who was undoubtedly loitering, eavesdropping on this conversation. Have I missed anything? Yes. She though. As shitload. Not least being locked in her room for months by the man that fathered her son, Teutus and hers argument, the light flirtation that had passed between them and then drifted off on the wind. His promise to try and help her, if he could. So much went unsaid. She offered Varinia a tight smile, eyes flicking back to Peregrinus who seemed more than happy with a new body to paw over. "No, domina. That is a good summary. I have only been in this house a little over two years," how had time passed by so quickly? "But a lot has happened. How..." she swallowed and shook her head minutely as she rephrased the question in her accented Latin, "May I ask, domina, how you came to find Teutus?" TAG: @Sarah

Inexperienced was one word for it, unschooled was another. Had her mother taught her nothing? Maybe that was what a countryside education was; lacking all proper guidance in etiquette and such. He nonetheless inclined his head and said in a smooth voice; "Senator Atratinus, or Lucius, if you'd rather." He'd prefer the former whilst they were still unknown to one another, but he'd give her the option. He noted the blush on her cheeks as she took in the room. Gods she really was young, wasn't she? The blush and the smile were captivating but he'd been fooled before. He cleared his throat. "I imagine it's a significant change," He commented lightly, drawing the conversation back. "You have the world at your feet in Rome. Tell me," He gestured for a slave to pour them some watered, sweetened wine and took up his cup, studying her; "How do you spend your days? It must be a different pace than at your villa, no?" TAG: @Atrice

Charis nodded. Perhaps the gold was a poor idea, but he took her advice on Teutus, which wa something. She affirmed with a light smile. "It will be out of our hands, domine." Our hands. As if they were in this together...which she supposed they were. How odd it felt! How odd and uncomfortable. She felt a knot of guilt tighten in her chest; there had been days, really not so long ago, that she had cursed him to a life of endless pain. She had hated him. Some part of her still did, but now they were in league. She didn't think she'd ever understand it and nor would her friends; she could only imagine what Cynane would think. The knot tightened even further. Hector's arrival signalled a distraction though and she didn't miss his look. Things had become even more strained as of late. She had seen him, loitering outside her rooms or in them when Peregrinus was napping. It disturbed her, but when pressed he merely gave that irritating, impish smile and shrugged his shoulders before flouncing off. She had no proof of any ill-intent to take to Tertius, but she could feel something brewing. By the way he passed her the cup of wine, she reckoned it was getting worse. Nonetheless, she took it, clutching the cup in her fingers. She didn't take a sip until he had taken one of his own and added, quietly; "Thank you, domine." She kept her eyes on her wine as he spoke again, but she could almost hear the smile in his voice...and the contemplation. She knew this day was coming. Whilst Tertius was - by and large - impossible to read, he did have moments of clarity occasionally where his intentions were plain. This was one such moment. She steeled herself and then nodded, lightly. "Yes domine. You have been very good to me, and Peregrinus. I am...grateful." That was not a lie; she was. She had more freedoms than she had before her pregnancy and her son had everything he might want. It was more than she had been expecting...but it made her question what he wanted in return. "I'm glad you are pleased with me." She added, for good measure. TAG: @Atrice

She arched a brow and inclined her head, "Of course." It wasn't every day a Prince of Rome invited you for a stroll, after all. She started in step with him, her voice light as she spoke; "And my plans involve visiting the Temple of Vesta, so," She glanced over her shoulder to survey the stream of praetorian's and slaves with an impish smile on her lips before she turned her face back to glance at him, "Considering we're walking the same way, I'm more than happy to have an escort." Wrapping her palla further around her shoulders to keep out the worst of the chill, she surveyed the way the small crowds dispersed on sight of the train. She had been surprised to see he wasn't in a litter, but she could understand well the desire to actually see the city for oneself rather than merely glimpsing it through curtains. "I'm sure you receive a veritable cartload of correspondence a day so may not have seen it but I sent a letter of thanks for the gathering you hosted last month." She held up a hand with a small smile, "But if you haven't worked your way through it all yet and found it, at least I can extend my gratitude in person. It was a lovely evening." Albeit one ruined by two idiotic, immature men who should have known better. "I trust you found time, despite your hosting duties, to enjoy it too?" She glanced sideways at him, an inscrutable expression on her face. Sosia had seemed so awestruck, it was almost like a poem. TAG: @Sarah

Charis let out a breath. Teutus had found her. She didn't know how long he had been actively looking, but would have bet her savings thus far in slavery that it had been from the moment she had been sold. A smile filtered onto her face, one of genuine pleasure for the man she had called a friend and now...well, was now something far more complex to her, but no less important. If she let out a breath, however, at the revelation she was standing before Teutus' mother she inhaled one when she said she had not passed word to Tertius. She held Peregrinus tighter to her hip as he wriggled, grateful for the distraction he afforded her whilst she collected her thoughts. Judging by the dress Varinia wore she was no longer a slave, which meant Tertius couldn't force her out of his domus, but neither did Charis think she'd be especially welcome. Perhaps it was for the best, that it would be a surprise. Then again, recent history with the arrival of Wulfric had taught her he loathed to be caught off guard. She winced. "He is well, domina. Busy - at his work." Or she presumed he was, he always seemed to be attending to paperwork or at his seat as a Praetor. Peregrinus giggled something and reached to grab the thread around Charis' neck. She tried to prize it free with her spare hand and shushed him as sweetly as she could. "I am well, thank you I- ah!" She winced again as Peregrinus reached out to tug hard on her hair. He was most definitely in his grabby phase. "Would you take some wine, domina?" She gestured with her head to the seats set a little further back in the atrium. It would give her a chance to put her son down and give her something else to do, if she was sent for refreshments. She glanced at the woman - although was cautious not to meet her eyes; "I...am sure your son has told you much of what has happened here, since you have been away?" Which was a Charis way of asking; how much do you know? TAG: @Sarah

Ovinia sobbed. She'd messed this up so badly. How had she let this happen? How had she been so fucking stupid? "Just not my name..." She breathed on an exhale, "Not my name...please." She didn't know if she could live with the shame if everybody knew; she'd never suffer a conversation without a piteous glance again. "I...I can't think, I can't think straight. I d-don't think so." She swallowed and shook her head. What else was there? Beyond that he seemed to relish every moment of the pain, of the terror? "H-e just liked the blood. That's all he wanted." She wretched now, doubling over but fortunately for both of them nothing came back up. They were on the Esquiline? She blinked. She didn't even remember how she had gotten here. It was only a few moments ago but everything seemed so alien. "B-by the baker, Lucius P-Pescennius. South of the G-Gardens of Maecenas." She sniffed and without prompting, pushed herself to stand but she stumbled and clung onto the wall for purchase, legs trembling. "Domus of Gaius Ovinius Camillus." She swallowed, weaving as she stood. How on earth was she going to walk home in this state without everybody and their mother staring at her? Her eyes, blurred through tears though they were, scanned Jason and then the ground. "C-can we hail a litter? My purse." She indicated at the gold still sat in the bag on the floor. She stumbled again at the memory. TAG: @Sharpie

At the palace...the thought didn't click for her at first. She didn't really understand his meaning and instead kept her eyes down, nodding and following his description. Tall, blue eyes, knives, green cloak. She felt his fingers on her hand and snatched it away almost instantly. Shaking. She couldn't be touched. She shifted to try and put further distance between herself and the man but it made her wound ache and burn. "I live..." Something clicked into place like one of the puzzles she had loved as a girl. "No!" She choked and looked at him, eyes wide, frantic. "You cannot tell anybody." She had been so stupid, so, so stupid. She felt her breath quicken even further, her heart pounding as if it was going to jump from her chest. "You're a slave, you're a slave at the Palace. Y-you can't tell anybody I was attacked," If he told an imperial, if he told anybody her reputation would be in shreds. Nobody would understand. Nobody would let it go. She was a maiden; she was supposedly untouched and now she had been violated by a man - if not by his member then certainly by his knife. Nobody would understand. She reached for his hand and snatched it, trying to grasp his fingers as hard as she could. "P-promise me you won't tell anybody...o-or don't use my name. Promise me." He was a slave. He wouldn't understand what this meant for her. "T-the Esquiline." She shook, grabbing at her cloak, "Y-you can come and see me if you need...b-but promise me..." She added, quietly, "Please." TAG: @Sharpie

She looked at the wad of what was once her palla, held in front of her face and took it dumbly. She tentatively moved it to the wound and groaned in deep pain as she held it to stem off the last of the bleeding, grinding her teeth so hard she thought they might splinter. She vaguely heard him talk, almost as if the words were filtering passed her ears, being spoken to somebody else. His cousin. Cut in the arm. He survived. She inhaled sharply through her nose and drew her knees back up, winding her arms around them. "D-do you work for the vigiles? Or you are a guard?" She looked up at him then, hope deep in her eyes. If he was in the watch then he could catch him. He would have the resources. She ducked her chin back down to her knees and sniffed, shoulders trembling. "H-e was tall. Blue eyes." That had traced over her body, "H-he had a bag with knives in, that's what he used." She swallowed, tears spilling down over her cheeks. Her fingers scrambled and clung onto the chiton over her knees. "He-he didn't want money, he j-just said he wanted to hurt me. It's all he wanted...was for me in pain." She was shaking violently now, she felt breathless as if she couldn't claw enough air into her lungs. "He enjoyed it." She whispered, disgusted. TAG: @Sharpie

She bit down hard on her lip to keep from whimpering as he tied off the bandage and secured it. she could feel the blood blooming against the fine, gauzy material of her palla but it would do for now until she could get home. Home. "M-my hip." She stuttered out. It wasn't a cut, or not a long one like the one on her back anyway, it was only an inch or two but deeper from where he'd replanted the knife back in. She felt herself choke and suck in a breath at the memory. She shifted, wincing in pain to let him have a look. The man had torn a hole in her chiton over her hipbone and stomach to look at it. She remembered the blood on her thigh where he'd smudged it almost reverently. She hurriedly licked her fingers, hiking up the chiton as he had done to try and get it of, desperately rubbing at the skin to wipe it away, frantically almost. When the dried blood had gone, she sniffed and slumped back against the wall, letting him see the wound on her hip. She blinked and looked away, turning her face to the side, looking anywhere else. "He's done it before?" She swallowed, still staring at the wall where minutes...an hour (how long had she been out for?) she had been pressed up against. She didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to remember. She didn't owe this man anything, she just wanted to go home. "Ovinia." She choked out. "My name." TAG: @Sharpie

She ground down on her teeth and then made a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh, a strangled noise of pain in any case. She nodded and with shaking fingers, pulled her hair over one of her shoulders so he could see the wound clearly. "I...I don't want to-to remember him." Her face crumpled and she wrapped her arms firmly around herself, fingers digging into the skin of her arms. "J-just do it." She nodded at the bandage, giving him permission to do the bandaging himself. "I don't want to think-think about him," She shook her head resolutely. She pictured his face, the feeling of his body pressed against hers, the glint in his eyes, the smile and she choked, burying her face on her knees, her shoulders shaking. "This can't have happened to me..." She whispered, not necessarily to him, "T-this doesn't happen to people like me..." TAG: @Sharpie

She shook her head violently. "N-no, I saw his face though, I heard him speak I...don't know him though b-but he tried it before, months ago I..." She was rambling but her brow knitted together in a frown, "Maybe he followed me." The thought made a hollowness fill her chest. Had he been watching her? Biding his time? Waiting for her alone? She watched him tear up her palla - it was expensive but she couldn't think of that now. She nodded slowly. In any other circumstance she wouldn't trust his promise one iota but she couldn't think straight, she could barely keep her teeth from chattering and her fingers from trembling and she needed help. And he was the only one here. "My back." She breathed in a whisper "And my h-hip. He cut me," She swallowed breathlessly, "He stabbed me." She winced as she moved, groaning through her teeth as she dropped the cloak a little. "Don't touch me." She whispered, "Unless I say." Anything to get some control back. Anything. She shifted again and slowly lowered the cloak to reveal the cut on her back, three or so inches long down the side of her right scapula and deep enough that the blood still ran freely from the wound. She sniffed, tears spilling over her cheeks, feeling lightheaded again. TAG: @Sharpie

"Jason." She committed the name to memory and reached out to snatch his cloak up, throwing it over herself as best as she could. She couldn't stop shaking. She thought she'd die. Maybe she had and this pain was the afterlife. Maybe this was just the Gods playing one last trick on her. She watched him as he picked up her palla which had been unceremoniously ripped off of her by him. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and nodded hurriedly. She wanted to go home. The thought made the tears all the stronger. She thought she was a strong woman, witty and charming and clever and resilient. Right now, however, she felt like a girl, like an infant even - and so, so stupid. She nodded mutely and sank lower down against the wall, shivering under his cloak, eyes wide and darting between him and the door behind him. "He might come back." She choked, "H-he might be waiting." For another person to molest, kill. "I don't remember him leaving, I don't..." She swallowed, "My back..." She shifted. It was aching and burning and she could still feel the blood drip down her spine. The wound at her hip could wait, she hoped. TAG: @Sharpie