Joaquin

JOAQUÍN

Gaia Lupa - HERE (She wasn't listed)

Valeria Flacca - HERE

Hector - HERE

Setting aside her own travel preparations – namely packing enough costumes to decorate the Roman legions, Valeria had made certain the younger children were preoccupied one way or another while she had her guest, but Flacca was intended to arrive later for a brief introduction, though Valeria hadn’t yet made mention of that to Clio. As a writer, Valeria wanted Flacca to know and hopefully associate with a writer closer to her own age in hopes of lighting and cultivating that fire for writing in her own daughter. The day was humid and the heat almost suffocating and staying in the shadowy indoors offered very little solace, leaving Valeria to shoo slaves out from the gardens so that she could sit there with the gentle breeze and an arrangement of cooled drinks. Valeria herself was dressed in flowy summery garb and floral jewellery in an effort to stay away the temperature. Save for the distant dog bark or the far-off crooning of the cicadas, the inner gardens were relatively quiet.

Once Clio’s presence was known, Valeria had the young woman led into the gardens. Valeria was reclining comfortably and when she caught sight of Clio, she slightly rolled her body to greet the new arrival with an outreached her hand for her to take. “Oh, Clio, take my hand,” she greeted with a smile. “Unfortunately, I am far too comfortable to properly embrace you, but you must forgive me and have a seat yourself. What do you think of the gardens?” In Valeria’s opinion, it had changed far too much for her liking now since the earthquake and regardless of Clio’s answer, it would be an invitation for Valeria to voice her own thought.

@Chevi 

“Very true, it is most understandable,” Valeria answered sympathetically as Pinaria made mention of her late husband and while she would have liked to have offered her condolences, she wondered if the other woman had grown tired of hearing the same empty expressions of pity. Valeria had enough years under her stola since the loss of her brother. There had never been a body to give a sense of closure, but the clumsy good intentions of others never helped bring closure instead they drew-out what was already painful. Although, the memory of her father hiring professional mourners to wail at the funeral of her brother simply to pad the numbers that would have otherwise been significantly smaller, given that ‘Porcus’ was an obnoxious man in life, always made crack into a smile. “I, for one, am most happy that you re-join us.” Valeria placed a hand on the woman’s back unthinkingly as she turned towards Circus Maximus as if she had just remembered it standing there in all its glory.

At Pinaria’s suggestion that they go inside, Publius’s face lit up. The races were bustling as ever, and it was possible that there were not many seats close-by. “If there are none, I’ll simply sit on someone,” Valeria jested with the wave of her hand as she walked, keeping an eye on her son. Her daughter dutifully followed, carrying her second daughter. “It’s quite busy today, isn’t it? Must be the weather. There would be no better time to rub your sweaty shoulders against someone else’s.”

‘That’s not true!’ came Publius’s protest, annoyed that his mother and her jokes couldn’t appreciate the races just as much as he did.

@Atrice

In contrast to Titus, Valeria was enjoying herself. On the boat, the hot day had grown slightly cooler as the wind out on the water almost seemed to take on a life of its own. The boat bobbed up and down with the arrival of every rise in the water that had appeared more serene on land as it shimmered and sparkled beneath the sun. Valeria was filled with a sense of adventure, the same that she had felt initially when she was met with the scenic Dacian country of deep forest and slopping mountains. From the beginning, she fully embraced the wild sea as the wind had begun to unravel and undo the morning work of the slaves that had curled and tucked her naturally straight hair. She observed the distance growing between them and the city of Naples as they were rowed, eventually their view was met with shoreline and the occasional opulent seaside villa beyond the city on one side and a scattering of boats and then the endlessness of the sea on the other.

Through the sound of the wind whipping in her eardrums, Valeria angled her head down towards her husband. “Did no one tell you this boat was a ten-day journey?” she asked with feigned surprised, brushing her thumb gently against his hair in a subconscious gesture to at least say that she was there for him. She could both understand his impatience, having felt that to a degree while sitting in a carriage on her way to Dacia, and equally take some pleasure in his pain. The island itself was beginning to materialise into something more than a dark blue shape in the distance, she could make out its greenery and sandy beaches.

After briefly pausing, she said, looking up towards Aenaria, “Rejoice, Titus. I can actually see land now.  I’m not joking this time.”

@Liv @whoeverwantstotorturetitustoo

After her short-lived retching, Gaia felt immediate dread wash over her that her brother might take out his disgust or irritation on her and if not in that moment, then later as he was never one to forget anything. Her body was shaking as if she were out in the cold and her hands rose to meet Spurius’s arm as he pulled her closer in his direction protectively. It was him that was comforting her rather than the other way around as it should have been. Even though, Titus had expressed for a second time what he wanted, Gaia still worried for both Spurius and Titus, the two other women, and herself and the unease she felt was almost paralysing. It was difficult to think clearly. She had seen women and new-borns go from flesh-coloured to almost stone grey with death, which never became any easier, but seeing the remains of someone contorted and crushed under a wall was… beyond description.

She rose up from under the table, knowing the woman’s body was still where she had last seen it but kept her eyes up, glancing at the ceiling as if searching to see if it would give on them. As Titus ushered them out, she held onto Spurius, gripping him firmly with both hands, as she began to move out from the room and through the door. One foot of hers slipped a little on the floor that had collected pooled blood. Once they were in the hallway, Gaia quietly said to Spurius, fighting to sound calm and collected, “I think Titus is right. If anything happens, you keep going. You must promise me that.”

@Beauty @Laria

Aurelia had audacity. While they had once been companions in their youth, their choices had led them along very different paths and that no longer lent her the same permissions to speak so familiarly about her husband as she had – or even to bring up her own deceased so pitilessly. Had it perhaps been Horatia, Valeria might have laughed as Valeria enjoyed a little vulgarity and mockery sprinkled like seasoning into her life. But with Aurelia, it was uncomfortable and awkward, especially with her reputation in mind. It, of course, had nothing to do with her nether regions which probably looked more akin to something that had died by the roadside and had been sitting in the hot sun for a few weeks. But rather how she was known for her irresponsibility and recklessness. Unfortunately, the gods did not grace everyone with good sense.

The stupidity of others was often entertaining but from only ever so afar. It was a different thing when it found itself in your own home. So long as Valeria kept some form of distance – emotional distance – then perhaps, she would indulge the other woman. “Very well, one cup of wine and then you must leave,” Valeria relented. She never held Aurelia responsible for the deterioration of their friendship. Life happened. However, she hated unexpected visitors, strangers that were far too familiar, and being dressed down in the presence of guests and Aurelia had managed all three. “This way now, or do you intend to stand there and flatulate at the door?” she shot over her shoulder as she turned to bring the woman out into the gardens.

@Beauty

Valeria’s feet crossed the warm floor of the tepidarium as her eyes crossed to the older women that Horatia referenced with a smile tugging at the corner of lips in amusement. They were deep in their conversation. Their expressions, the shake of their heads, and occasionally audible “oh, nooo” made clear how much they enjoyed feeding off one another’s energy as they shared the confused details of some scandalous occurrence or other. “I’m already lamenting the middle-age beauties. Everything has begun to sag,” Valeria jested with a loud laugh that made a few heads turn and a solitary distant tut in disapproval could be heard. She did not dread age, by now she had come to terms that one day, it would certainly be her and she hoped that if that were the case, it would be Horatia there with her just as those matrons had each other. “Though I am in the right mood to be just as outraged by some gossip as they are. Here, let me start, there’s talk of a gladiator with three cocks.”

As she broke the water surface and slowly lowered, feeling how the warm water eased the stresses in her muscles, she understood Horatia’s contentedness in the time away from home. “Let us not forget the drunken men who sleep on the floor of our domus,” Valeria added with a chuckle, but she agreed. Being a mother and being a person were two things that women like them often had to balance. “Then we must make plans for the next week and leave our husbands wondering if we’ve finally set them aside for each other as much as we do with them and the little triumvirate they have arranged with themselves and Longinus.”

@Sara

When Spurius appeared, Gaia felt herself lift up with a breath of relief and she could not help but want to hold him, returning his concern for her with the same as she placed a hand on his cheek and haphazardly moved her hands down to his shoulders, here and there carefully to see that he was not harmed while moving through the Elysium. They were joined by two half-clad slave-women who squeezed themselves under the table, shrieking in a way that tempted that primal level of fear to come out by those around to hear it. They looked fear-stricken, one of the two sobbing uncontrollably with the other looking unresponsive, her eyes staring but her vision was not reaching anywhere. Gaia could still make-out what her son was saying over the noise and nodded. “Titus, we should go, we should all go,” she added the last a little louder so that the other women could hear, even though her voice was shaking. “Please, Titus, come with us.” She wanted her brother to agree with them. She did not want to leave without him.

She looked towards the entrance into the room, worried that they might lose their chance. In that moment, she realised why one of their workers was weeping and it had not occurred to her why before, everything had happened so suddenly. Just near the door under a portion of the wall that had collapsed as a result of the shaking was what remained of a third woman who had not made it under the table. What if that had been Spurius instead? Gaia had seen blood all her life, as a woman through the months, childbirth, and miscarriage, and as a midwife, but not like this. She felt herself suddenly grow numb, beginning from the lips then spreading like poison through her, and her stomach felt warm and tight. Her eyes travelled to her brother briefly, wanting to say something, before she felt her body betray her as she bent and vomited towards his lap from the sight of the body.

@Beauty @Laria

When Titus beckoned her over, Gaia slid down from Gnaeus’s knee and crossed the floor on eager feet towards him to greet him into a light embrace. She often stood on the periphery, watching her brother together, when she was not scrubbing the strainers, bronze pans, or discus in water that she had collected by bucket and carried into the domus but between the two of them, Titus was the one who would humour her with a game of hide-and-seek. On the other hand, Gnaeus rarely ever did, it was why his game of horse was read like a treat. From his face, he did not appear happy suddenly.

Gaia held onto Titus absent-mindedly as a woman and the slaves entered, but the suggestions made by her second brother sounded terrifying, her body shivered at the thought. She looked to her father, but all while the tense conversation between his sons transpired, the man was vegetating on the recliner, too indifferent and incapacitated by his laced drink to intervene, not even to question why his second son was brandishing knives or purchasing slaves and revealing the fact days later.

“Nothing?” Gnaeus probed, tilting his head, noticing that Titus had not said anything. But of course, he would not. To him, it was disappointing that his brother did not share his taste in entertainment. “Nothing at all? How about this? Instead of that, you can wear this, and I’ll watch your woman fuck you from behind.” A ratty wig was tossed towards his brother’s face. Gaia watched it as it bounced onto the floor, she could smell it from where she was standing.

“Can we go outside?” Gaia whispered to Titus, tugging on his garments, while her eyes rose up to Gnaeus. It was usually what she did when inside, her brothers in particular, became too much.

“What was that?” Gnaeus asked. “Please, share it with the room, Gaia. I’m sure we would all love to hear it.”

@Beauty

It seemed other families in Rome had the same idea to make use of the summer weather to see the races. “Oh, yes, this is all of us, but I haven’t been counting,” Valeria joked with the shrug of her shoulder, while her son impatiently turned around to stare at the Circus Maximus in youthful longing. The magic of the races just a few paces away, but his mother was an obstacle. “Valeriana, Flacca, Publius, say hello to Pinaria,” she instructed. Valeriana was the first to greet the woman, followed by Flacca, and Publius’s lifeless and sombre ‘good-day’ followed.

“I have been well, thank you,” Valeria answered. “Although, you might have heard about my father. No, he has not died, not yet, Gods be willing, but his health has been ebbing and flowing for a while now. I must have told you that, hadn’t I?” She likely did not need any direct telling, it was as good as common knowledge now, much to her father’s dismay given his pride. “I was not able to make the reading group with Horatia Justinia. How did it go? Any gossip that will wake me up before the races?”

“Poor little pear,” Valeria offered with a sympathetic tut. She was a late bloomer, but it still felt as if it were a wave good-bye to the carefreeness of childhood and a welcoming gift into the pains of adulthood. “Sulpicia had a prior engagement with a girl friend of hers, unfortunately.” That was Valeria’s go-to answer whenever she did not feel like diving into a ‘well, my adolescent daughter is going through one of her inexplicably strange moods and it’s best not to take her out of the house’. Besides, it was freeing to be her own person without having to stop and remember ‘did I feed the child?’ “But I remember when Sulpicia was that age,” she mused, moving her body to ease the battle of removing her clothes for the slaves. But gods, did she feel old saying that. It sometimes amazed her that it was possible for her to be a grandmother.

She peered at her friend who was already fully undressed. “Are you this quick with Aulus? Anyway,” she said, returning to their original lovely conversation. “I believe I kept it quiet it from him for a while but detailing shocking news to husbands always requires a little diplomatic expertise. A little word foreplay to get him ready, some lubrication to soften it, then you go in with full force with it. Titus has not broken into a traumatic sweat in the middle of the night… yet.” The marriage of their daughter was an inevitable future and that was one area that Valeria could not jest about.

Finally, free of her clothes, Valeria sauntered towards her friend. “Ready,” she confirmed, giving Horatia an approving slap on the ass. It deserved a poem.

@Sara

“Oh, I will be,” Hector promised Tertius, half-swooning because of his master’s show of concern. Tertius could drop a pin and it would give Hector the breath of life. The slave then vanished back into the domus with the kind of bravery that only a narcissist could have. Underneath his bare feet, he could feel the ground quivering still, as if Terra Mater had a change of mind after a morning quickie and decided to prolong her waves of pleasure. Inside the domus was quiet and devoid of the other slaves that were usually scuttling around like vermin. As Hector headed towards the kitchens for a cloth and water, he paused to peer into Tertius’s room, just the way it had been left. In all the earlier mayhem, Hector hadn’t noticed his tunic had been thrown aside on the other side of the floor, and seeing a wine cup that had set aside the night prior, he took a quick sip and then pressed onwards. The kitchens were dark, plates and vases had jostled from the surfaces and crashed into the floor, creating little shards that poked into his feet when he first entered.

On his return, Hector bounded up to Tertius’s side with a happy smile like a puppy looking for its pat on the head and a high-pitched ‘good boy’. “Here you are,” Hector said to Charis in one of the most insincerely friendly voices while thrusting both the cloth and the nearest water he could find in her general direction.

“Would you like to know the state of the interior, domine?” he asked, turning to Tertius in a way that seemed like he was giving the man his full attention but with the subtle body language that almost communicated a ‘you two aren’t a part of the conversation’ to the other two, especially Charis.

@Atrice @Sharpie @Sara

If it had not been this situation, the blend of Titus’s serious tone and the quote of her writing might have made Valeria crack and break her silence with a loud, drawn-out snort as she bit back her laughter. It did not elude her either that his reaction compared to what it could have been was rather mild and gods, he deserved credit: he was trying to place himself into his wife’s head. Giant, purple, veiny cocks. “Fuck, no,” she answered truthfully, however. Did he think she wanted to suffocate between a hefty pair of buttocks as well? “It’s all really in good fun. It all started with a very bored, very curious girl trying to see what was getting everyone’s togas in a knot and it just turned into its own thing from there.” That was a way to simply explain it without jumping to quickly into dissecting her mind slice by slice, but she was ready by now to delve further if need be.

“You have met my father,” she added with a gesture of her free hand towards him to illustrate her point. “Think about what a man like Landicus means to him.” Her use of her character’s name, by then, was also her admission. “Besides, it’s funny. You cannot tell me that you do not at least think that a man who held an entire conversation with his lover by whispering into her vagina so the sound could reach her ears isn’t even the slightest bit funny.”

@Liv

Gaia was out of it and under the influence, she stumbled, intoxicated, while her feet vibrated against the shaking ground and the walls around her chattered with the threats of cracking. She had not seen her brother coming, instead she had been staring out at the darkened hallway, then the next minute, she felt her body plummet towards the ground as something large and heavy collided with her. For a split second, she let out a brief, high-pitched yelp, thinking – instinctively – in that short period of time that she had been struck by a section of the wall. It did not register that it was human until she was on the floor, the skin of her arm aching from the impact with the ground, when her eyes rose from the obscuring of his arm to his face. She felt a mixture between relief and then disappoint or fear that he was alive.

“What are we doing under the table?” she asked, her eyes with wide with worry. She wanted to bury her head into her hands and wish the earthquake away, but she knew not to give into the temptation of panic. Once you fell down that road, it was hard to come back. She had felt the earth rumbles before, of course, but this was different. In the back of her mind, her son, the hurt, their money came up, but that would all be for after. If there was an after. “Shouldn’t we be going outside?” she asked again, but perhaps it was better that they remained where they were. If they moved again, their luck might run out. She wanted to believe that Titus was right.

@Beauty

If anyone was dead, it was Aurelia Phillipa. Perhaps not dead in body, but certainly to Valeria’s memory. Years had passed and usual slogging through the everyday took precedence over a friendship that met its natural end in childhood. In fact, that was what sourced all the confusion in Valeria’s face as she was embarrassed by what was now essentially an acquaintance assuming a close friendship. “I appreciate the flattery, Aurelia Phillipa, but it seems your sight has aged since the last you saw of me,” Valeria replied, though she did not know how well the other woman would receive her comment. She had not been expecting any guests and for once, dressed in far less pomp and theatre than she usually did.

“Since you speak of ghosts, I don’t suppose you were coming to see if I were still alive, were you?” she asked. Oddly, in the last while, there had been plenty of people checking in with Titus or offering their condolences but where the news of her death came from, Valeria did not know. The silver lining being that it offered Valeria the creative inspiration to fuel conspiracies of wives being replaced by lookalikes through her writing. “Well, now you’ve had one good look at me in the flesh. You are free to leave now.”

@Beauty

Valeria grinned and brought her wrist back under her nose to re-examine the smell. Now that Horatia mentioned it, there was both an overwhelming sweetness and overwhelming something else to the scent. The kind that now reminded her of Porcus – her brother – when he believed that fragrances perfectly substituted bathing, leaving his family to fall victim to the stench of ass and roses. Would it wash from her wrist?

Valeria sensed that Horatia wanted to be in the baths and she gave a disappointed sigh, the type of sigh that a friend gave when they were told ‘we have to go home’ while standing beside the bar. But luckily for Horatia, she did not have to pry Valeria’s stiff corpse from the stall, the excitement of the shopping was dulled by the now strengthening smell of the perfume on her arm, her friend’s observations regarding the gold, and by the growing realisation that what had looked endlessly interesting from afar was just a glorified display of junk. Rome was rife with charlatans looking for easy ways to make more coin, the crowds of the baths offered just that.

“Trying to be rid of me so soon, Horatia Justina?” Valeria said in feigned offence, while her hand picked up one of the gold-pieces curiously. “I have as long as Landicus’s long cock.” That meant ‘forever’ in other words. After all, the man’s cock reached Britannia and back, so his poems said. It must be hard, though, folding all that several times over under the toga. It was so long that people screamed about a snake at the bathhouse. Despite her joking, Valeria heeded her friend’s wishes. “Fine, I need to wash this off me before I faint anyways. Let’s get naked,” she said casually and turned to leave the stall behind them.

@Sara

Content warning: currently abusive mind-games, but might escalate?

47 A.D.

Gnaeus was in an elevated mood. Most days, he was like a chain of dark clouds that loomed high above, threatening to become a storm at night but that day, he seemed pleased with himself, bouncing in his steps and smiling back and forth. Gaia was on her brother’s lap, holding his hands like reigns as his leg bounced in the manner of a cantering horse. “Do you like that?” he asked her, sounding affectionate as he put a hand quickly on her back to keep her from falling. Although normally Gnaeus paid Gaia as much attention as he did to any dog that survived long enough under their roof, hardly sparing a glance towards the floor unless there was a sudden change of winds.

Gaia tucked her dark hair behind her ear and nodded with a smile, a child finding amusement from a small thing. When her brother had first called her over, Gaia had been tentative for the same reason rooms fell silent whenever he was in them but seeing that he was in an uncharacteristic playful mood, Gaia took it to mean good. With them, their father was slumped over and half-lifeless with a hand holding his cretic wine, but for the most part, it just as well might have been that the siblings were alone.

All of a sudden, Gnaeus stopped with the horseplay and turned towards the door, noticing something that Gaia had not yet. “Titus,” he called out, brushing Gaia off of him and she scrambled to her feet, staring at the doorway to see their elder brother appear. “Where were you? I was looking for you and you didn’t think to tell me you were gone.” He paused. “Out with your lady-friend, was it?”

@Beauty

Outside the Circus Maximus, the crowds were swarming and increasingly smellier as they began to bump shoulders under the hot sun while trying to push into the complex and its seating arrangements. Naturally, Valeria had very little interest in watching the gladiatorial games, much less the races, and household names like ‘Menelaus’, ‘Bassus’, or ‘Marcellus’ of the Whites evaded her. She often left such things to Titus to take Publius, but she thought of it as a treat for her children, a spur of the moment decision following a morning’s visit to her father’s. The younger two particularly would find excitement amongst the crowds, charged by the social energy and adventures that circled the track over and over again. Flacca, on the other hand, was at the age where she seemed to want to be elsewhere and instead carried reading along with her. Regrettably, it was not the great Landicus, but it was still something that made Valeria smile. Although years ago, when Valeria had done the same, would have made her father hiss a “put that away”. It was poor manner to read in company, after all, but to Valeria, it was poor form to be unread.

As they tracked through the crowds towards where they could make their entrance, Valeria instinctively held onto her son’s shoulder to keep him close, while her eldest was carrying her squirming sister, who kept trying to climb over Flacca’s shoulder to point out people or animals in the surrounding area. As Valeriana pointed in one direction with a “look!”, Valeria followed as she swept through some of the people spread out and around the stadium and caught the familiar face of Pinaria Gaia.

“We’ll go inside in just a moment,” Valeria told her children, only to be met with Publius’s complaint.

“But our seats!”

“But Pinaria Gaia!” Valeria complained back, mimicking her son’s whine, before she added “it’ll only be a minute” even though in momspeak, that essentially meant the same as when she created a side-trip to the markets with her children and had them bouncing from foot to foot in exhaustion as she turned minutes into hours of looking at fabrics and jewels.

As Valeria approached, she tilted slightly as if to get a good look at Pinaria as she excitedly opened her arms. “Fancy seeing you here,” she greeted her with a laugh.

@Atrice

The early summer sun was out, brightening the city’s white columns and terracotta, and with good weather came the endless prospects the outside world had to offer. While Valeria was often content staying at home with her wax tablet and scrolls, she also found herself in need of stimulation and company outside her family. Because the high-end bathhouse was a place of both leisure and a cultural hotspot with the occasional theatre or music performance and a collection of literature housing reading rooms and a library with shelves for scrolls. Despite having the litter brought to the baths where she intended to enjoy a warm soaking and massage, Valeria was gowned – for the journey – as an artist would express herself: in bright colour, with a thick, styled wig, and kohl.

She made sure to have Horatia accompany her. “Think of the fun we’ll have,” she promised. After all, the weather, and an excursion anywhere put her in good spirits.  

As they left the heat of the sun in the front gardens of the bathhouse, they were welcomed by the coolness of the bathhouse interior. Although music or the projection of dramatic lines were not yet filling up the frescoed walls, the high domed ceiling compensated for it with the sounds of echoing footfall on marble and the flapping of birds that had found their way inside through the skylights.

“Oh, I was hoping they would be here,” Valeria gasped eagerly as her eyes caught the set-up of stalls near the entrance, each were brimming with colourful trinkets and perfumes. The woman made a quick beeline towards them, pressing her fingers with their polished and coloured nails here and there as she pulled one thing out after the other followed by a “how much?” before she put it back. It was never a question of money as it was that Valeria simply liked the victory of a good bargain.

After having some perfume sprayed on to her wrist, Valeria took a whiff before turning to Horatia, holding it out for the woman to smell. “What do you think? It doesn’t smell too much like a centurion’s sweaty ass, does it?”

@Sara

Hector’s eyebrows rose. The ceiling in Charis’s chamber had partly come down. Why didn’t it try harder? The fleeting thought was overwhelmed by a feeling of sympathy where he could recognise that Charis was visibly shaken. He still hated her, but his hatred had its limits. Although from the sounds of it, it might not have been the case for Jocasta and Eirene. They saw it, implying they were passive. So, had they left Charis out of natural fear or had that been on purpose? “They’re fine,” Hector answered dismissively, having caught sight of Jocasta somewhere in his headcount, but Charis’s concern for them seemed nonsensical, if it were the case they simply ‘saw’ but did nothing – unless she truly was that stupid and Hector was always happy to believe that.

He watched with a wrinkled nose in disgust as she pulled back the makeshift bandaging on her arm and felt sick from the sight. “What do you think you are doing?” Hector gasped. “Do you want the bleeding to stop or not?” Pressing a hand to his face, he shook his head. Was it a headache coming in or was it the aftermath of the earthquake? He had to bite back a hefty portion of the cattiness that he reserved for Charis when it was just the two of them. “We need to get that cleaned up before you get sick from it.” Before it started to look even grosser. “I can get something,” he said, though from the tone it sounded like he was asking for Tertius’s permission first.

@Atrice @Sharpie @Sara

To a point, Valeria could recognise the feeling of betrayal, he had that same lingering sense of disappointment that her mother had when she had uncovered her adolescent daughter’s buried treasure, a corpus of questionable curiosities. That had been before the beginning, this was now years into Landicus and the figure was a shadow behind her poems but he was beginning to form layers of flesh. Valeria glanced at her husband from the scroll. There was more that could be conveyed through the body than by words and oh, was a lot said in the way Titus sat and looked at her then. People were often shocked by reminders that other people were simply animals, especially when all civilised pretences were pulled away.

While temptation to find a joke in any situation was always there, her smile turned into something more serious. “You’re not stupid,” she assured him, her tone was soft but there was no apology in her voice either. She had lived (and was living) her life and he too with his own and she had always come to terms with the idea that they both would have parts of themselves that might never be known to each other. Most women, to be honest, expected that from marriage. It must have been growing under her brother that she found herself uncapable of being surprised by how strange a Roman man could be.

“Certainly not stupid.” Her fingers fiddled with the scroll as she pondered and debated. Of course, he was looking for an owed explanation, as would anyone and as had her mother at the prospects that her child was a closet pervert, but would it bring him a peace of mind if he were given the truth? It was a little like the mathematician and his equations. Breaking it down for the layperson would only seem like madness when it had a far clearer pathway in his mind. “But you wouldn’t understand it,” she added in confession, shaking her head. Although it was the least among the issues, it would also mean inviting him more into her head in a way that she had never with anyone else before and perhaps despite her casual feelings towards sex, violence, the visceral – at least in literature – she was also left wondering if he would be weirded out because after all, Roman woman could be just as strange.

@Liv

Hector had remained in close proximity to Tertius, keeping his master in sight, even after his daughter had scrambled past towards one of the female servants and instead of following her, he seemed to be searching for something – or someone – Charis. Gross. It was a bitch-slap to his smugness just seconds earlier. ‘She’s fine’, he wanted to remark through gritted teeth – whether ‘fine’ meant she was under a pile of rubble or not. Still, he lingered behind him and found the chance to unleash his annoyance on a stray innocent fellow slave passer-by that was trying to go to safety. “Are you hard of hearing?” Hector said in a high-pitched voice. “Go fucking outside!”

As Tertius re-emerged in view, Hector follow and as he stepped out, he was able to make out Teutus and Charis, the latter of whom gained a pair of accusatory eyes in her direction. Just to make a point of pomposity, he repeated Tertius’s question: “Is everyone here?” like two-second delayed translation. It was also to further stamp in a point on his master’s governance. Already tall, Hector began to count heads – all of whom belonged to others who probably wanted to see him made into a tagenitai with blonde coiffed hair – while combing a hand through his hair in an effort to make himself marginally presentable.

Hector sighed. No one was shrieking in inexplicable misery, so it was likely no one (important) had died. “The gods clearly favour you, domine,” Hector smiled, though he felt as if he had just walked off a rocky boat at sea – not that he even knew what that was like. In all the disorder, Tertius was well, his family were well, as was – as much as it pained him to count her – the mother of his currently unborn child, though he purposely excluded her as he spoke again. “All your offspring are untouched. That is a definite sign of good fortune.” From behind his master who had his daughter in his arms, he affectionately brushed a bit of dust from his back as if he were tasked with polishing a shrine.  

@Atrice @Sharpie @Sara

30^th of June (The Earthquake)

Gaia had been with her brother while he was in one of his stable moments, lounging in a chamber somewhere far inside the Elysium, where only bronze pottery had sat between them, burning herbs, and releasing their smoke into the air. Although Gaia was often uneasy in the presence of her brother, whether there was any clear reason to be or not, the fumes as she breathed them in and out began to give her a sensation of relaxation. At some point, her brother had rose up and she watched him leave without a word, then what had been the crossing off footsteps across the floor eventually turned into silence until the walls seemed to shiver. At first, it was just a shiver then they began to shudder violently and not in the way that they might when customers were making merry against the rather thin walls of the brothel. The furniture began to skip and drag against the stone, the pottery atop clattered, and it was only until something shattered that Gaia roused from her semi-dream-like state, sitting up in a hurry, and felt fear penetrate through the drunkenness.

Uncertain of how to respond, she remained paralysed by the sudden and overwhelming terror for her life, but it was no more paralysing than the passing thought of her son who was elsewhere in the city and the torturous anxiety that came with not knowing. Without him there, she could only think of herself first. For a second, she considered calling out for her brother but the next thought that entered her mind was, what would happen if she did not? Or what would life be like if he were gone? The temptation was strong as was the moral conundrum that seemed to play out in a painful twisting in her gut.

As she moved out into the halls, trying to balance her shaky legs against the walls, all she could hear were screams inside and out that were suffocated by the rumbling and then the sound of a crumbling structure that was first slow then gained momentum into an invading, sickening crash. “Titus!” she yelled out, trying not to fall into that thoughtless state when fear truly took over, but it was unlikely he would hear her. It was not him that she had been calling out for exactly but really for the concern for the customers and slaves. Was he helping any of them out? As she made her way for one door to the next, she peered in before moving onto the next.

@Beauty

The unbearable deep summer air was stayed away by her shelter in the chamber, which was as cool as a cave, where she remained scritch-scratching ideas down into the wax, a saga of sex that would make Homer weep in jealousy was slowly taking form. At the sound of her husband’s voice, she answered with a spotless and innocent “hm?”, while she slowly folded it close before resting her arm across its surface and tilting her person to her side, in the direction of the sound of her husband’s movement and the setting next to her. Already from the way he entered, silent once he called after her and placing himself beside her like a father when he had a scolding on the tip of his tongue, she sensed something was amiss or there was some level of upset somewhere.

When the scroll appeared, she first assumed bad news at first, a death perhaps, but already having suffered through one before, those troubling few moments just before the ‘who was it’ broke felt more like an old friend for dinner. As she set her stylus aside and reached out for it calmly, a simple smile was on her face as if to say without saying ‘all was or would be well’ and began to unfurl it. Before reading the exact words, the peak of her own hand already gave her a sense of what it contained. Now, to outright deny was to assume the stupidity of her husband but at the same time, what kind of Roman wife would she be if she admitted ‘yes, I write pornography to piss off old men’ without even the slightest fight?

“Well, yes, I suppose I can tell you a little about it,” Valeria answered, feigning guiltlessness. “For starters, it could use a little more dramatic pauses here and there… so far, the writer is guilty of plenty of drivel. Like here, it says ‘in many shades of purple, his engorged cock was a column of its own, capable of erecting buildings as high as trees where the birds would sing…’, I would completely re-write that…” She shook her head. “Shocking, what people consider literature these days…”

@Liv

If Tertius had not roused him, Hector would have died. He had been deep asleep, comfortably sinking into the bed, like a cat that had decided it loved the comfort and had become permanently affixed. With the shaking of his arm, his eyes peeled and blinked up open but the regular slow introduction into the morning had not quite happened. The most he understood of the situation was that one moment he was staring at Tertius’s beautiful backside and the next Tertius was clothed and out the door, all while everything seemed to be moving. Groggy, delirious, and confused, the slave haphazardly rushed to follow his master like a shadow but became tangled in bedding and everything went white as he found himself face first into the floor.

In the background, he could hear screaming in the distance and then it became clearer what was happening. But if there was anything far more terrifying than the threat of death at the hands of forces that seemed far beyond his humanity, it was that he did not even have the time for his morning preening. Oh gods, he thought. His creams. As he scrambled just a little behind Tertius like a duckling after its mother, he simply parroted whatever Tertius yelled while cupping his hands around his mouth, even if no one asked him to, and sounding annoyingly smug and self-important in the process. Now fully awake, any opportunity for pomposity would not be lost, not even for an earthquake. “Alright, everyone out! You all heard him, out! And into the peristyle with those dreadful curls of yours,” he added as one of the female slaves collided into him before continuing on.

He remained outside of Antonia’s room as Tertius entered, still barking “outside!” at people’s backs, occasionally so far as pressing his face up to them and giving a “where do you think you’re going? The peristyle is that way!”, and loudly clapping his hands in a ‘chop, chop, get with it’ manner. Despite his energy, his intent was to be at his master’s side wherever that would be.

@Atrice @Sharpie @Sara