Beauty

He nodded his hand. “I’m very sure,” he said and he didn’t mind paying for her mistress either. He then set a hand on his chest and flashed her a warm smile. “Please, I really don’t mind. For you and your mistress. Consider it a courtesy of blossoming companionship and for seeing me in the races, should you both wish to.” It was entirely their choice but he would be happy to see Aglaea again. He followed after her, smelling the sweet and sour aromas of street foods around him. There were sights and sounds around him but he kept his eyes and ears on Aglaea. That was quite simple to him.

He listened as she talked about herself and nodded, interested and clearly in his element. She was very easy to converse with, that much he noted quickly. He was glad that she hadn’t mentioned Landicus, he wasn’t sure how he would have survived if she had. “Interesting people” certainly flattered him, if anything, he believed her to be the interesting one.

“That one came out quite a while ago, didn’t it? Quite a number of good stories that he wrote. I especially love the beginning because that’s when you know you have an entire tale to bite through,” he said, impressed by her response. He made a note to re-read Ovid’s work. “And if the opportunity ever arises and we are both in the country, perhaps we could ride together? Horses, that is.” Having one’s mind in the gutter was Landicus’ territory… or Marcellus’s. “If you have the time and your mistress doesn’t mind it, I would be happy to make the time. I also find the city too crowded. I grew up with nature around me, you see, my family were scribes but owned an orchard as well.” It meant a having considerable wealth in two very different paths so he was comfortable enough growing up, living wit the best of both worlds. “I like enjoying what our god gave us, it reminds you why life is worth living.”

@Echo

Bassus gave Azarion a thumb’s up, noticing the boy pulling himself up. “That’s right,” commented Bassus proudly, though he believed the person who was likely better for this particular job was Marcellus. When it came down to it, Marcellus seemed to like women a lot more than Bassus did. Bassus had visited a few brothels during his time in Rome and ended up simply talking instead, though that wasn’t to say he didn’t sometimes get down with his bad self. But that was usually outside of brothels as they weren’t really his thing. He then flapped his hands around as he spoke as if to emphasise. “Eye contact, a great big smile, and your body oozes sex, if not then confidence. It’s like acting.” A little drinking would help give the boy some confidence. It turned even beggars into kings. And it wasn’t like you had to actually be confident in yourself. His god knew he wasn’t at all some of the time. 

But as the boy tapped his slave tablet, his eyes stared at it for a while, wondering what he meant and then it dawned on him. “Oh, that,” said Bassus, waving a hand in the air. “Pfft.” He stopped in his tracks and took a hold of the boy’s shoulders to stop him. “Here, allow me.” Carefully, he took the thing off of him. He was within Bassus’s presence anyways, he would be in safe hands. He hoped. He then tucked the thing under his arm. “See, no harm, hm? Let’s get going.” He then hurried along once more. “Have you always wanted to be a charioteer, Azarion?”

It wasn’t something Bassus thought he’d ever be doing and while he liked it enough, he knew he would have been better doing something with words. But seeing the boy calm the horse long ago, Bassus knew he had it in him. He was only glad now that he was being recognised for it.

@Chevi

Nymphias felt a little hope, her heart fluttered, but she was unsure of how her masters would take to her marrying, let alone marrying. That was perhaps a question she had to ask someone knowledgeable within the household or, at the very least, hint to. She couldn’t imagine herself sitting down Tranquilius, a grown man, old enough to be her father, and asking the question and then asking about babies. Betua? Well, Nymphias wasn’t even going to attempt to reason with the woman, she scared her.

Nymphias melted underneath his touch and blushed even harder now. She smiled so widely that the sides of her lips even hurt. “No man has made you feel the way I have,” she said pleasantly. Months ago, the idea of being bought would have sounded strange to her ears but now it was natural. She felt she was adjusting well to Roman life. She moved so that she could settle lie down next to him and snuggling up close, getting comfortable.

“And I think I would like that a lot,” said Nymphias, feeling at peace amongst the greenery and decorations. Except she didn’t think it, she knew it. It was exactly what she wanted since she was young. To marry and be a mother, she even excelled in everything that made a woman a good wife. Who knew Rome was giving her what she wanted. Still, she wasn’t certain how her master would take to her being bought, let alone married, but she believed everything would work out. After all, Erea was still alive so good things were clearly coming.

Her hand then reached to take a hold of one of his hands, squeezing it. “When we become husband and wife,” she said because she believed it. “Will we have to…?” It was obvious what she was asking. She just didn’t have the heart to say it so candidly. How did Zia put it? Be with a man? “Be with each other? I don’t mean like what we are doing now but… joined like we’re one.”

@Atrice

“Ugly?” Nymphias nodded. Wasn’t she thought? Looking at him as her hands were down, he looked like he was about to laugh. She wasn’t sure but it looked like it. She knew when someone was biting their cheek, she had done it before during happier days. She felt suddenly self-conscious and if she hadn’t already been preoccupied with her life spiralling downwards, she would have bursted into tears. When he showed her his sleeve, she merely stared at it dumb-founded. That was his sleeve. Had she not been in love with Helios, already certain that she wanted ten children with the man, she would have fallen in love with Attis just that moment for his kind gesture.

She was shocked by his compassion but also felt a little queasy. She blinked. “Spit?” she said stupidly, staring at the sleeve. She held her stomach. “Ew, no!” She cried out loudly, it seemed unclean. Not that she was one to judge, considering a good many things, including the fact that she had just covered her face with kohl. “I’ll just… do this…” She began wiping her face with the back of her hands, it somehow seemed cleaner, but only spread the kohl to her hands instead. “Oh.” Oh was right. While she had not a mean bone in her body, in her frustration, she frowned and thought of the only thing she could think of, to resort to her inner child. “You were laughing at me because I look like I fell into latrine or a barbarian Briton! If domine sees me like this and then sees you, you will be in big trouble. He will think we are plotting to take over Rome.”

@Sharpie

The alarm in his sister’s eyes was clear, though he could tell that she was fighting to remain calm. Going outside was the last thing they needed to do. If the Elysium was barely standing, what were the odds that other places were as well? Rubble and debris was likely to be falling in all directions, it was no more safer out there than it was within the Elysium. And yet, remaining underneath a table, he reasoned, would prevent any bit of wreckage from harming them. He did not help her, merely held her there, hearing the world around them fall to ruin.

Spurius came into the room. Titus would not have bothered looking for the boy, though his heir unless his sister had demanded for it. His priority had been solely on what he knew he could manage. Titus’ lips thinned as his nephew voiced having to leave. Titus was not fond of the idea of leaving, the way in which the outer world was at the moment was unknown. Within the Elysium, they were beneath a table, which could, in some way, keep their bodies from harm’s way. The downside was the possibility of being trapped or unable to breathe until help arrived, if it ever arrived. It was the Elysium, after all. Not Caesar’s palace.

“How are the streets outside, Spurius?” he shouted back, responding to his nephew while he had blatantly ignored his sister. He wasn’t about to reason with a woman, even when their lives were on the line. “Are there crowds? Are the people in panic? Where is the nearest clearing? I will not leave one disaster only to enter another. Should we do as you say, whoever gets left behind, stays behind.” At that moment, three whores came hurdling into the room, each heading towards the table with frightened expressions, covered in dust and coughing. Only two of them made it as a part of the ceiling clasped onto the third. Spurius’ predictions were correct, the ceiling would not hold. Not for long anyways.

@Laria @Joaquin

“Me? Poetic? Ha! Never!” she said, waving a hand. She left that pursuit for her youngest children, who so enjoyed writing. Perhaps one day they would become little Homers. What would she even write? Landicus did it all for her while she sat on her ass cackling like the bored widow she was. “I am neither Landicus nor Ovid, though if I were to become a poet, perhaps I would be noticed by Landicus and finally fuck someone who’d fathered all of Rome and therefore possibly even be my own father.”

The mere idea and scandal of it, to her, was amusing. Marcellus could take that comment of hers whatever way he wished to. She eyed his naked body, letting her eyes trace every bit of it, slurping her wine. She’d always been a little perverted but it worsened with age. Still, the women she had invited were in for a treat. It was a massive orgy waiting to happen, though lamented not having invited Vibia. That woman knew how to fuck. She leaned against a wall, making herself very comfortable.

“No need to be surprised, sweetheart,” she said playfully. “And you know me, I have been quite busy being a terrible mother, horny widow and doing as I always do. Living every day as if it’s my last. Speaking of being a terrible mother, my youngest son is a fan of yours.” And practically all of the Whites, she thought. He wouldn’t stop talking about charioteers. She herself hadn’t been to the races in a while, purely for being hungover to the point that she could barely move. If you asked her, it was worse than childbirth. “I was hoping after drowning you in a plethora of sweaty tits and delicious wine, that you would show my boy your chariot and horse. Your actual chariot and horse. He’s eleven. Consider it the craftiest thing I have done in my entire life. Outside of trying to get under someone’s garb.”

@Echo

Bassus had just arrived at the stable yard, he was earlier than other days, and had been whistling an old tune his father used sing out loud. All of a sudden, the earth shook and Bassus almost lost balance, his arms flailed around him as he tried to catch something to hold onto. He could hear structures being torn apart from far off, aloud moaning sound which was eerie and as if a god was sighing. Trying to discern what to do, he heard Marcus yell. It was just like Marcus to remind everyone about the horses.

As a man he was certainly no match for an earthquake, that was for sure with the way the world seemed intent on tossing him about. Trying to maintain stability, he walked slowly, simply because it didn’t look smart to be running as the ground was moving and shaking in ways that mortals weren’t used to. One slip after a run and there could be an injury that one didn’t want. As a charioteer, he couldn’t risk that. Slowly and surely, he made it to the stables and took hold of two horses, guiding them outside of the stable just as he was told, trying to keep them from being too skittish.

Seeing Azarion, he turned to the boy. “Have you seen Safinia?” he said, he hadn’t seen her yet. Whether she was at the Circus Maximus or not, he didn’t know. Still, he was deeply concerned for her but tried to remain calm overall. All one could see upon looking at him was the usual expression he gave daily, one between neutrality and friendliness. It didn’t do to panic.

@Liv @Chevi @Sharpie @Echo @Jane

Titus sipped the wine and listened as she spoke. Aside from behaving like a good hostess, he liked how she spoke only when spoken to, it made her a little more desirable than perhaps other women of her same status. When it came to business, he much preferred smoother transactions and less bullshit.

“I think you misunderstand me,” said Titus, his tone equally cold, shaking a finger and setting his cup down on the chair’s arm. “I am not concerned about what your master thinks or wants. Do you truly wish to let a man have ownership over you? He may own you in law and title but surely, you are your own person with your own governance. I am giving you the option of accepting my offer, not him.”

But he did consider the idea of speaking with the man, giving him a handsome sum which would, with the woman Annis, give him riches in turn. He was only thinking about money. He titled his head. “But if you are truly concerned,” he said after some time, sighing because the woman’s response wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear. “I will need more than that. Giving me the name Longinus doesn’t tell me anything.” He waved his hand so that she would spit out more of the man’s names. “Give me his full name and where to find him. I believe this Longinus and I could come to an agreement. And eventually give you an allowance to buy your freedom when your uses are spent. Without him, we would only be splitting two ways.”

@Echo

Aculia shook her head. No, she would not like that. That was a sure way to die horribly by internal bleeding and shock from the sheer power of pain. No physician would be able to help her and even if she survived such a thing, she didn’t want to look weak, let alone have them see her like that.

It was not long until her back slammed against the wall with a thud and she groaned as her hair fell down. It happened rather fast, so fast that she hadn’t had the time to really think, he had placed both her hands above her head. She did not dare struggle. One thing she had learned from her brothers, when rough-housing with them, was that more energy was spent struggling and moving than it was achieving anything of value.

The first thing that came to her mind was that he was going to use the knife between her legs. But she was proven wrong, feeling the knife against her skin, ripping it slowly. Her wound stung, blood was pooling and rolling down her face. Her eyes watered but she fought from crying or shouting out in pain, even if her toes curled from it. Now, he’d just about taken it all. Her virginity, her happiness, her humanity and now her appearance. But she would hide it from the world so no one would ask questions. It would definitely scar, she couldn’t sew it herself and knew no one.

To her, one cut was enough. It left her exhausted and beaten, even if she had tried to sustain what little energy she had to begin with. “I’m sorry,” she managed to choke out softly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She repeated it a million times over and doubted that that would suffice or be the end of it. It was just the beginning.

@Atrice

As Zia gestured, Nymphias lowered her head, feeling her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. Helios had said it was a good idea for her to show interest in the Roman gods. She believed taking a farther step would allow her more freedom. She didn’t know who to listen to now, both spoke with confidence and reason, and she was still so young and inexperienced, she knew that much and her siblings weren’t there to guide her. She raised her head upon hearing “you’re pretty” and smiled, feeling at last like she had won Zia’s approval, but it soon faltered, hearing the rest. Her arms hugged her middle in revulsion.

She shook her head furiously at Zia’s question. Should she have been? Erea had been married at seventeen, Nymphias was almost there. Her domine seemed fairly disinterested, which was a good thing, and the men on the ship to Rome, they had tried to fondle and threaten her, but nothing had, thankfully, come of it. The thought still left her with sickness and upset. In Nymphias’ opinion, sharing one’s body with someone had to be a magical experience, not one of force.

“I think it almost happened but I wasn’t ready,” Nymphias explained quietly but that was all she was keen to share. “And I am sorry about your life. All we can do now is pray now, perhaps we can pray together later tonight when you are free? I will pray for you too. Before bed, I mean. I think the gods like listening to people when they are sad.” Nymphias’ hands came together. The fact that Zia had once been important had Nymphias in awe, clearly impressed. Zia was now not only beautiful to her but smart and important. Her brows furrowed in confusion not long after, however. “A son? I haven’t seen any child here… And I haven’t heard anything about a husband before this… What happened?” Her heart dropped, was she about to not like what she heard? 

@Sara

Name: Beauty
Description: A graveyard & amusement park for my character head-canons

@Anna

She could feel his gentle hand against her chin and he lifted her head up to look up at him, her eyes settled onto him and gazed into his eyes, which she often got lost in. Soon, his lips were upon her and took her breath away. She slowly closed her eyes but then opened them to see the face she came to admire so much when the brief kiss was broken. Her heart was hammering, her cheeks flushed and she could not help smiling because it was like a dream. Before she had lay in her bed, wondering about her siblings’ fate, dejected and crying but now, her nights were spent dreaming about Helios and the future she wanted with him.  

She, too, looked forward to when they met but wished to not hide, though she feared losing him. Another problem was Helios and Erea, the two were not fond of the other, so she came to learn. But perhaps that was something that would have to be settled at a later time.

“I do believe it,” she said cheerily. Her eyes watered not from sadness but out of joy. Helios had rescued her, guided her and had been nothing but kind, she saw no reason to disbelieve him. She leaned forwards to wrap Helios in a great, warm hug, careful not to spill her drink of wine onto the garden’s floor. She could feel his warmth, it was comfortable and inviting. “I don’t ever want to be parted from you. I want to spend every day of my life with you.” She let go of him slowly, embarrassed by her sudden flow of emotions, and sat back, offering a silly grin.

“Would you marry me if you could, Helios?” she asked suddenly, taking a hold of her cup but not yet drinking. “I know slaves aren’t allowed to do anything but if you could.”

@Atrice

Vibia was just as beautiful as she was frank. Aurelia let out a chuckle as the sound of pouring wine played in her ears like familiar music. It was Appius’ loss and the woman was right, she was better. She returned to Vibia’s side with an excited plop onto the chair, making herself very comfortable and practically sinking into the cushioning, feeling every bit like a goddess in paradise.

“No need to call me domina,” said Aurelia lightheartedly. Her free hand rested on Vibia’s before carefully guiding the younger woman’s hand underneath her clothes so that Vibia would rub her skin, which Aurelia made sure to moisturise regularly so that it was soft and youthful. “And the game is simple, we drink and tell our deepest, darkest secrets. Only the most inspiring of people have many and the only way you can lose is by becoming too shit-faced to fuck.” Aurelia’s game was much to her tastes. There were no actual rules, it was as free as she liked to be.

“As for secrets,” said Aurelia, taking a sip of her drink as her mind fluttered through her memory, searching for something scandalous or amusing. “I have one. My second husband died while defecating. He was found in a latrine. When I was told, I laughed. I thought my brother was joking. I must be some kind of a beast, who laughs?” Her tone was casual but time had allowed her to talk effortlessly of the event. They had been passionate lovers before they came to loathe one another. Despite that, she had never wanted him to die. After all, his attempts to pacify her were comical. Truthfully, she had been in shock, even if she had already been prepared for widowhood when Appius’ father had died on the soils of Britannia. “He was a piece of shit so it’s only fitting.”

She reached forwards and brushed Vibia’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Your turn, love,” she said with a smile. “Anything outrageous about you? Should I be fearing for my life?”

@Sara

The way her blush complimented her cheeks under the glows of the sun was endearing. Bassus did not mention it in case out loud in case she became embarrassed by it. There were the more obsessive fans and then the fans who knew of him only in passing, she did not seem to be either and simply a woman living her life, but wanted to be cautious nonetheless, he never wanted to take advantage of his popularity. He was not a fan of power imbalances. To him, a man and woman had to be a team.

“It does require a lot of preparation,” he said honestly with a nod. Training was rigorous and he made sure it was daily. Much like Aglaea, he found the races a lot more enjoyable than the area but he was also biased. He was a charioteer, after all, and quite enjoyed being in the midst of it. From the pressure of being watched to the cries and gasps of the crowds, it did very well to make one feel energised.

“I would love to,” he said. It was strange, it was something he would have suggested had she not suggested it first. Right off, he could tell she was a thoughtful woman and that was something he admired. “Are you in the mood for honey cakes? A friend of mine mentioned it once. It’s on me.” If she was a slave, there was no use in her using what little money she was granted. Once he heard her answer, only then would he walk in whatever direction they were to find food. “And tell me a little about yourself, Agalaea. Do you like written works? How do you like Rome?”

@Echo

His voice was recognisable, it was the slave of the domine with the difficult name. She covered her face with her arms still, convinced that it would stay stained for the rest of her life. Would water even clean it off? She should have educated herself first, she thought. She didn’t dare move yet. If she slowly lowered her hand, he would see the horror that was her face and the answer to his “what’s wrong” would become abundantly clear. Helios wouldn’t love her looking like this, there was no point in being alive if she wasn’t beautiful. Compared to other women, she felt rather flat-chested. Perhaps if she was stuck looking like this, she could make herself somehow bigger for Helios as compensation for the loss of a pretty face. She had to consider seeing a physician sooner rather than later about that or pray to the Roman gods really hard to restore her former beauty.

“What’s wrong is that I look like…,” said Nymphias, practically choking on her words. She wanted to say “you”. Was he not the slave with the scar on his forehead? Yet for men, scars and discolouration upgraded one’s attractiveness, Attis probably gave off a rugged manly vibe to the women in his life, which made him desirable, but as a woman, she was destined to be discarded if her skin wasn’t smooth or the same colour. “Life is hard if you are an ugly girl! Now I am ugly! Even my own sister won’t recognise me! No one will!” She lowered her arms, waiting for him to confirm what she already knew: That she, Nymphias, was a monster, the sort that haunted the dreams of children late at night. “And domine will send me to the Elysium.” She hadn’t, for a second, thought of what she was unleashing onto Attis.

@Sharpie

She winced as he shouted at her and felt her strength leave her the moment, he confirmed the way she thought about herself: that she was nothing. She had never been anyone or anything to anyone or herself. Her parents died, she was then taken in by others who died and her brothers abandoned, one in which solved her to slavery. Not before long, again and again, she was sold until Marcus kept her and she had remained with him the longest. She always felt like she knew and understood him, like some strange human connection, only to be proven wrong. She didn’t.

Her head was snapped backwards the moment he took a hold of her hair and she grunted, her hands reached for her hair. The razor was right before eyes, she could see it clearly and for a moment, she felt nothing, not even fear. Just nothing, merely accepting that she was about to die. Still, he had not yet struck her and made her bleed so the tension was building, making her wonder when he would just get it over with. Whatever he did, she was intent on not crying. She had been robbed of everything that made her human and so would not cry as any other person might, nor did she would she scream in pain. She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction either. Instead, she kept herself emotionless so he wouldn’t know a single thing she felt or thought.

She could feel the blunt end of the knife caress her cheek. He was playing with her, that much she knew. “Fuck you,” she said quietly, staring right at his callous eyes. She didn’t know if it was sudden courage or defeat. If he was going to kill her, she didn’t exactly want to die with such lack of dignity and prayed he’d end her life soon before she felt fear. She’d seen the way he killed the others, how their bodies turned pale and limp. “Just get it over with.”

@Atrice

Admittedly, some were strange or downright cruel if you worshipped different gods. There was much debate even within the Jewish community about what it meant to be a Jew and a number of other things that Bassus usually didn’t think mattered at the end of the day. He liked her casual outlook to his background, he was not always awarded that. But thankfully being a charioteer meant that people often looked at his career first and then him as a person, including the god he prayed to. Or rather, the god he tried to pray to.

He had led different lives. He had been a scribe, owned an orchard, lived life as a slave and was now a charioteer. He was a father and married, now widower and childless. In the end, none of it mattered. His life changed but his core was the same, so he believed.

He thought nothing of her suggestion for him to lift the basin and did so, first bending his legs and then heaving it upwards with a straightened back. He let out an old man’s grunt. “I am getting old, Safinia,” he said in passing. He would have a good number of years left in him still, he hoped, but there would come a time when he would return to the earth. He didn’t bank on dying soon, especially not in a race, but didn’t fear that day either. If he could avoid it, he would try.

“Lifting things this way is good for the back,” he said, holding the basin tightly. His fatherly instincts told him to educate her on something that she probably already knew. And imagine pulling a muscle as a charioteer, he couldn’t afford that. “To the kitchens?” It was probably where she wanted him to bring it anyways but asked anyways just in case and waited for her to lead the way. “So about little tidbits, think you could sneak something for me to nibble on in-between training?”

@Liv

As soon as Marcellus’ presence was made known to her, Aurelia gracelessly bounded towards his location. She was sure the whole of Rome could hear her running. But not without grabbing two cups full of wine first, she was careful not to spill anything on herself or the floor. Messes were for later. She had specifically chosen him because he was both handsome and someone willing to have a good time. Sex appeal was always needed for a party. And let’s face it, half the women of Rome didn’t go to the races for the horses, they went for the sweaty eye candy and there was plenty.

“Marcellus!” she called when he was in view, raising the cups above her head, doing a little dance, before shoving one in his hands when she neared him. Her eyes settled on his clothes and she made a clicking noise with her tongue. “No, no, definitely no. Sweetheart, we’re going to have to undress you and get you into something different. I want you sporting something that will make us women like cat’s in heat.” Preferably, that would be nakedness but, for now, they needed to heed some level of restraint. Spinning on her heels, her forefinger motioned for him to follow after her, leading him in the direction of her brother’s room. Her brother would not appreciate it if she lent his clothing to a charioteer but what he didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him, it would be cleaned, and the next time, she would be prepared. Marcellus would have a new set of clothes, specifically tailored for his figure and charm.  

She downed the wine as she entered another room. Years of expertise allowed her the ability to do so with ease and no dripping. “Here,” she said, grabbing something from her brother’s belongings and holding it out for him to take. She herself was clad in naughty and glitzy clothing, purposely trying to show off her bosom, and all simply to be the talk of the night. She watched him, waiting for his opinion on what she had chosen. “That one should work to accentuate the intensity in your eyes and the machismo of your arms. Have faith in my eyes and every woman and man will have you tonight. In every position imaginable.”

@Echo

She looked up at him and her brows crinkled in confusion before her face expression loosened. Perhaps that was his way of showing that he agreed with her and that he understood what she meant. They were speaking in codes now. “Me neither,” said Nymphias. If he was pretending they totally hadn’t had this conversation, surely she should follow suit? “I am not in love either and I don’t leave the house in secret to meet the one that I do not love. You should not go to the Gardens of Sullust with the one you don’t love.” She hoped he got the hint, that that was what he, too, should do if he hoped for their masters not to intervene.

“I don’t know anyone who was in love with a woman and that their master separated the two of them,” said Nymphias. She was beginning to confuse even herself now, especially because  she was speaking Latin in a peculiar way, but talking in riddles and codes was very fun and amusing. Imagine all the things their masters wouldn’t know about if slaves spoke this way and their masters were near, especially since she was forbidden from speaking her native tongue. “Who is it that you do not love? Is it Zia?” It had to be, Zia was very pretty. Was that the name she had heard when accidentally overhearing something about love and feelings?

@Ejder

Titus stopped at the doorway, only to see Gaia in close proximity with Gnaeus. She was small, impressionable and innocent, the complete opposite to his brother, who, in truth, could only be described as a cold-blooded monster. “Gaia,” he said calmly, no real emotion displaying in his voice as he gestured for the girl to come to him. Once she was at his side, he held her close to him. Gnaeus always wanted to shadow Titus. Together they visited brothels and, as brothers, did everything together but there was a wickedness to Gnaeus that sickened even Titus to the stomach.

“Well?” said Gnaeus, pushing himself from the chair and noticing Titus’ protectiveness, neared his two siblings but his cold, blue eyes never left Titus’ face. “I asked you a question and you didn’t answer.” Out from somewhere on him, he played with a knife between his fingers. Titus glared back at his brother, unwilling to show any bit of fear. Gnaeus then whistled and the shuffling of feet could be heard through the house. “I bought two slaves the other day, brother.”

“We don’t have money to feed two more mouths,” stressed Titus simply.

“We need a helping hand, what with our sister’s mother fucking clients loudly in the next room,” said Gnaeus, his voice seemingly cheerful. “And the men of the family are otherwise preoccupied with work. Who will look after sweet Gaia?” His free hand stroked the top of her head. “Ah, here they are. Move.” He shoved Titus and Gaia aside for the two unclothed slaves lugging a young woman, bound and gagged, to enter the room. Titus lowered his hand to cover Gaia’s eyes. The woman looked pleadingly at Titus but Titus kept silent. All the while this went on, their father, in the corner of the room, merely looked up before zoning out once more.

“This is the woman you’ve been seeing without me,” said Gnaeus, his face warping into one of utmost anger. “Brothers never keep secrets from one another. Never. That’s right, I followed you. You think you’ll ever be free from me?” Gnaeus grabbed Gaia from Titus and the slave women giggled. “I’m going to fuck your lady-friend while you both watch and if you don’t…” His eyes fell onto one of the slaves holding the crying woman. “You’re going to sew that one’s mouth shut for laughing. Does she think this is a joke?”

“D-domine, I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” said Gnaeus, his eyes peeled from the slave before it settled on Titus. “So, what will your choice be?”

@Joaquin

Now that that has your attention… Welcome, to the land of tits and balls.

This is an open ad but Titus and his little sister, Gaia Lupa (played by @Joaquin) need workers and brothel bodyguards at the Elysium. The Domus Venus can’t be the only place with all the fun! How rude!

Titus mistreats his slaves and workers (but he won’t do anything without any writer’s consent) but I can imagine that slaves and workers that have: 1) been there a long time and/or 2) Know how to “play him right” will be awarded more privileges, free time, etc. Think: Margaery dealing with Joffrey. It would also be interesting, however, if some slaves and/or workers were taken under his wing and he was teaching them how to be like him? Still, Titus can be particular and hard to read so if you want to bounce ideas with me first (via PM or Discord), we can figure something fun out together!

Plot opportunities:

•       Tits and balls, what else? Can’t go wrong with that ever.
•   Drama, seduction, violence! The whole shebang and spicier than Game of Thrones Season 8.
•    Bodyguards to protect the sex-workers from harm (harm without his consent/allowance/knowledge, freaks must pay extra).
•   Free sexual health stuff from his sister, Gaia Lupa! Yay! What a catch 20-20 from the Elysium, am I right? Free Dacian drugs too!
•  Workers used by Titus to gain information about the many different people around Rome. For science, blackmail or to use for his advantage.
•     The Elysium had its ceiling and most walls destroyed during the Earthquake on June 30^th because what is life without a little destruction? Titus, being a cheapskate, has put up only blankets (versus hurrying to fix the walls) so enjoy your current working conditions.
•      A worker romancing his nephew (see Nephew ad below)? Tons of drama there. But imagine if they also slept with Titus? Awkward.
•   Titus’ birthday is coming up so he’ll be celebrating it a very special way. What a big day for the little guy!
• The West Side Story aka. Rivalry with Domus Venus workers?

Not interested? Want a bigger role in shaping the Elysium? Titus’ nephew, Spurius Gaius Lupis, is Open!

Valeria Flacca. Dead? What was this shit? One couldn’t kill Valeria Flacca if they even tried. The last time she had seen Valeria, they had been about fifteen. The Valeria she knew was likely not the same Valeria of present. Time had a trend of forging people into a different person entirely. And then there was something about the Longinus she grew up with shagging someone. Good on him, his sexual victory was now eternal. Plenty of things had been said about nearly everyone in Rome, which made her laugh hysterically, but reminded her of her childhood. With so-called steadiness in her life, she felt it high time that she made her apologies. She was stalling, of course, because one, she was proud and two, she had practically ditched her friends to indulge in sex and parties. Did they even want camaraderie after that?  

A lot had happened in her life and she was certain a lot had happened in theirs too, she left their answers to them. Aurelia married young, whisked away to the unwelcome world of motherhood and that of a wife. Two more dead husbands and many insulted lovers later, Aurelia was celebrating her life away while Valeria seemed to be happily married, living the perfect life of a Roman wife. Aurelia was not envious in the slightest but did quietly wonder why the gods favoured some over others.  That her last husband Cnaeus had to die and Valeria’s husband was still striving.  

She arrived at what was Valeria’s place of residence and upon making her presence known was met with a dopey, little blonde slave. Aurelia pushed herself inside, uninvited, bumping shoulders with the girl while looking the child up and down. The girl was flustered, stammered and stumbled aside.

“Go get Valeria Flacca, tell her Aurelia Phillipa is here to see her,” Aurelia barked as she eyed the home’s interior design and the young girl, baffled, hurriedly left to do just that. Aurelia’s slaves hung awkwardly behind her, all dressed just as expensively as her. They truly looked like a band of peacocks. She slowly circled the room, inspecting everything with her forefinger pressed against her lips. When she heard footsteps, she spun around to see her old friend and beamed impishly. “Valeria, you haven’t aged a day. I hope you aren’t too alarmed that the ghost of your past is here.”  

@Joaquin

The decision to go to the Venus was done so on a whim. She was well aware of the words that circulated about her in Rome, the whore of a widow that planted her claws in every man and woman regardless of status. Single men and widowers were routinely warned, should they be next on her ever-growing list of conquests that either perished or was tossed aside. Unless they wanted someone “easy” to bed. Truthfully, such floating news did help her get onto guest lists for parties and in Aurelia’s modest opinion, parties didn’t start until she was there.

Her son of twenty, who had been with her on their journey to the Venus, grumpily chided her and stared off into the distance dramatically. Their relationship was like that of siblings rather than mother and son but unlike Aurelia, he had no interest in her pursuits. Half of Rome had been inside of her, he had said as if to punish her before she politely reminded him that she had been inside of the other half of Rome. As they arrived at their destination, he stormed off in disgust to “attend to urgent matters”.

And so she found herself in the Venus alone. She was directed to a room, finely adorned and lush in tastes, and she settled down onto a soft couch. Food and wine had already been laid out for her as a guest and while she waited, Aurelia took to tossing grapes into the air and catching them with her mouth. When the door slid open and Aurelia turned her attention to the woman who entered. She had seen the woman, at least, a few times before.

“Stunning as always,” she said, lounging across the chair and then gestured for Vibia to near her. “Today, you were meant to be fucking my son but I’m sorry to report that plans have changed. You’ll have to do with me.” Not that Aurelia minded, she had some plans up her sleeve. “But first, let’s drink!” Aurelia pushed herself up and began to pour them both wine. “How about a drinking game? One of secrets?” Aurelia wriggled her brows playfully.   

@Sara

Nymphias sometimes felt like a stranger even in her masters’ domus, she did not speak with most of the other slaves. But she kept her head down and did her work as well as she could. Serving her master’s elder daughter now awarded her more freedom and less stresses, she sometimes talked to the girl but felt obvious differences in their class. But Nymphias watched the other girl, imitating her Roman way of behaving. Surely, that was a good idea?

But in hopes of gaining freedom, in her own silly way, she took to fashioning her hair to appear more Roman and had been experimenting with make-up to make herself more likeable. Clio, her friend, had worn kohl around her eyes the day they met and Nymphias thought it looked beautiful on the older woman. In her room, the girl fumbled with the product, caking it around her eyes hurriedly, smiling widely while humming.

Her hands were shaky, talentless, and unaccustomed to running make-up along her face in any way, least of all kohl, she had never had use for it. Looking into the mirror, she was stunned to see that she looked nothing like Clio and instead like someone had punched both her eyes a million times until it was blackened. In panic, Nymphias searched the room for water to wash her face but there was, of course, nothing. She tried wiping it off with a cloth but the cloth was dirtied and it just spread. Getting up, she decided to rush somewhere, before anyone saw her, to wash her face.

She raced out of the room, practically crying but fighting from wiping her tears, and then down the hall. Turning the corner, she collided into someone. She didn’t see who it was yet, instead choosing to cover her face with her arms.

“Don’t look at me!” she cried loudly, believing she had collided with a fellow slave. “I’m hideous.”

@Sharpie

Titus tailed after her, his motions seemingly leisurely and taking his time. As he wandered the Ludus, his eyes did not bother to observe his surroundings and instead was bolted on the woman’s figure from behind. Once inside her room, he made himself comfortable at the chair that she pointed out for him. He looked about the place, it looked hardly to his tastes. His own home was lavish for a man of his position while the Elysium was left as it was, it only served one purpose to him. There was an air of superiority with him as he raised his chin and his eyes met her.

“Yes,” said Titus simply, snapping his fingers. She made a good impression on him, she was as of yet neither too fragile nor too bold and looked to his comforts first, behaving every bit like a good businesswoman. Still, she was a slave and he looked at her no differently than he looked at mutts or the filth from under one’s feet.

“As I said, I have a proposal,” said Titus, getting straight to business. “I own the Elysium, I am sure you have heard of it, but I work in other avenues as well.” That was as far as he was willing to frankly admit in regards to his criminal ties. “You’re a gladiator. You will die one day when you grow too old or too weak to fight but I can offer you freedom. Become a part of the Elysium and I promise you, you will be making a good amount of money to see you through your years and without fear of death. You would have enough to buy your freedom.”

He doubted a woman like her would fear death, gladiators saw death everyday but he was offering her a way out. And he had no intention of ever paying the woman well. “But there are other alternatives, should that not interest you. I am willing to negotiate.”

@Echo