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August, 75AD Zia leaned against the wall of an inn - half demolished by the earthquake and utterly unfixed. It had to be two, perhaps three in the morning and she stifled a yawn - green eyes hawkishly watching the passing trade. She didn't dally with the job herself, and preferred to keep a watching brief - back to the wall and picking up the names and mannerisms of clients that came back again and again, or brought their friends. She left the heavy lifting to Gallus who had a particular way about him which kept the poor in his thrall and the rich who frequented this part of the city for vice and depravity, intrigued. She smirked to herself and stifled another yawn - her bloodshot eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments. The scheme had started some months prior. It had been luck and chance more than anything, although in years to come she'd claim it was a visionary idea she'd been harbouring for a while. She left the house most nights now. Her nightmares, which had started almost immediately after her capture last year and the ordeal she had been subjected to at the hands (and cocks) of the legion had disturbed her sleep and ever since that irritating run-in with the master of the house past midnight, she had sought solace and to calm herself down out of the house. So every night, pretty much, she slipped out of the slave entrance and into the dark of the city. She had smelled it before she saw it and heard the chatter of her mother tongue down by the Tiber. Back in Dacia, the flower1 was largely only smoked or inhaled by their priestly class, but as the wife to a future chieftain she had held her own plentiful supply. She missed it, and the smell had brought her right back. She was not a friendly woman by nature, but she had made an exception for this lot and before the week was through it had been her little ritual to meet them down by the river to share the smoke of the flower and relax. Her mood had improved immeasurably, and it had only helped her see a way out of all of this mess. She smirked to herself now at the memory. That had been three months ago. In that time, those friends had long since departed this world or Rome - she didn't care to know which, and their supplier - a foolish man that liked a fuck more than he liked his money, had readily admitted his own source of the flower before he'd even climaxed. Men were too easy. He too was currently whereabouts unknown (many thanks to his once-employee, Gallus). Once she'd got the name and understood the distribution network he'd set up (the man was a fool), Zia had swooped. She'd employed Gallus on credit, the man also liked a fuck but he was canny and could respect intelligence and drive when he saw it. He had been the fools, but equally couldn't stand him. He came willingly to her venture, she hastened to add. Over the last three months they had successfully, together, taken over the distribution of the flower in Regio IV, carved out a little corner of a warehouse near the spice markets to store their stash and made a decent few coins. The first few always went to Gallus to pay off the credit she had endured to take him with her, but the rest was hers - and in the future they had agreed a 65-35 split, Zia to Gallus, once the debts were settled and the runners paid. She smirked again as she leant against the wall. She never used her name, but should anybody in the city be looking for that sweet, calming high they knew where to come. Gallus the Great, would show them a good time. Nobody knew her, and that was the way she liked it. She lurked in the shadows for now, reaping the rewards of her ingenuity, and when the time was right? Well. She couldn't wait to see the look on her dominus' face. - FIN 1Marijuana

Early August, 75 AD Manius had finally found something, or so it would seem. He’d been contacted by a servant to Quintus Caecina Tuscus, a former bodyguard to his daughter, actually. The actual Quintus was far away from Rome, but in Rome and near Rome was his family and his servants. And since Manius used to know people a little higher up in ranks, back when he worked for Cyprianus, he was still well-known, even if he had just worked at the slave market for over ten years now. Not that he was the kind of man to hang out with his friends all the time, but they knew him. And Manius had of course let it be known, that he needed a job... although for a while, nothing happened. Until this bodyguard reached out to him and it was about time too. He had little less. The landlord had threatened with throwing him out soon. At least it was something, he thought, even if it was good and probably more than what he deserved. He’d been bodyguard a few times before, both for Domitilla (whom he was so foolish to fall in love with) and to Cyprianus (who was also dead now), but at least he’d tried it before. He was told that the young girl was of the marriable age and that she might soon find herself a husband, but that she’d also lately landed herself in a few situations, where she ought to have a man looking closely after her. And after the earthquake, her old bodyguard had been injured and he was close to being retired anyway. So he reached out to Manius, who responded fast, because he really did need a job. He just hoped he really was able to keep her safe. He failed with Salacia, after all. Her too. Manius had dressed in the finest outfit he had - he didn't know yet if they would offer him a home too in the domus, or if he would still stay in his own - and then he went to the right address at the Palatine. His hair was short and curly and he had actually visited a barber to remove the worst stubble on his face, which was needed after his most recent fall from grace. It had been his last money spent, so it was a good thing he was getting a new job, finally – and a proper job with a good pay even, for a Senatorial family! At least, he hoped they would want to keep him. He hoped they'd not change their minds about him. A servant allowed him in and told him to wait in the atrium. So here he stood. Quietly, with his hands folded on his back, waiting to meet his new mistress. Hopefully it wouldn’t go wrong this time, but by now, he barely trusted his own thoughts on that. It always went wrong somehow. @Echo

June, 75 AD It had been a fine day at the Circus Maximus. Caeso had been racing with his favorite horses, all a lovely brownish red color and his good chariot had not been broken today either. When he finished the last round of his part of the races, he was smiling, because he knew he’d performed well and he had won. Well the team had won. But Caeso had won too. After the race, he went to the stables to help with the horses and cleaning up and he was approached by a messenger, telling him he was invited to a party in the nearby Aventine the same evening. It had been cleared with his master, it was fine that he went, of course it was. Caeso would not be a fugitivus, ever. So for the evening, he dressed up in his finest green tunica – light green for the general fabric, but it had been hemmed with a darker green in a finer fabric, so that it was almost shining. He hadn’t done much to his hair since the afternoon, it took a while to do the twists pulling his long hair towards the back of his head and he kept it like that. He didn’t mind standing out. It was well-known anyway, that he liked it like this. His mother had taught him to do it, ages ago, and she had been taught by her mother, who was born in Germania. It looked impressive, he liked it. At night, he showed up at the right domus and was allowed in, of course he was. There was already a lot going on. Slaves, probably whores, were dancing in the atrium and they probably would not just continue to do dance next to each other. People were there, watching the naked dancers and others were laying on couches, eating delicacies and again others were just conversing. He recognized some of the other charioteers and when some of the guests at the party noticed him, they raised their cups to him, celebrating his win. He gave them a nod and picked up his own cup of wine. Honestly it seemed a little bit dull to him, this party. He hoped it wasn’t going to be an orgy, because then he was leaving again. Caeso went to quietly lean against a pillar in a corner of the peristyle, just watching people, not caring to approach any of them. Why was he here anyway? @Laria

July, 75 AD He had nothing. Or, almost nothing. No work, no wife, no place to be and soon he might be out of coins too. Manius barely ate these days. He was trying to make the money last and trying to not go and gamble with the hope for gaining more. On the other hand, he might lose it all and be so indebted they’d take him because he had no coins and then he’d be a slave again. That might be the easiest way to go anyway. But so far he had not gambled the rest of his coin away. He had spent a little of it on wine. Just a stupid attempt to forget his sorrows for once. That didn’t work all the time though. He was hungry. He needed food. Manius had gone to the marketplace to see what he could find. The food smelled deliciously, from every taverna and place handing out food, but he didn’t think he was so poor he should get food from one of the places offering for the poorest. He had coins. And someone else needed it more. What could he get though? He walked by a few stalls. The bread was too expensive. So were the sausages and the flat-bread and the honey-cakes. There was a fruit stall. The apples looked delicious and so did the oranges. He could smell them in the summer-heat. But they were shiny and fresh and there was no way he should spend his money on an apple just because it was shiny. He began turning some of the peaches around and picked one that was extraordinarily soft. Even its color was somehow... off. Overly ripe. “How much for this?” He asked the lovely young woman in the stall. @Sara

Late June, 75 AD Charis had been allowed to do more and more, since their last proper conversation in the beginning of May. Now it was late in June and Charis was very visibly pregnant. It was impossible to not notice her, when he walked around the domus, although most of the time, they still didn’t interact with each other. She hadn’t done anything out of order though, since he let her out of the room and she was being a very good slave. She did as she was told and nothing else. So she was allowed longer trips to the market and the baths, just about as much freedom as the other slaves. She wasn’t spoiled like before. But she was also at the same level as the others. He couldn’t help but sometimes watch her. Perhaps he still had a fondness for her, despite it all. And add to that the fact, that she carried his child! The first child he would have since Antonia was born. His third child. Teutus had been a mistake, back then, but today he was grateful for his son and still pleased with the fact that Teutus was now free and held his name. Any child Teutus would have, would carry on the family name. But there would be another child and Charis had been so certain it was a boy. Despite the fact that he now had Teutus written into the will as his heir, you never knew what could happen. A second son wouldn’t be bad. He would have to talk to Charis again. Discuss her well-being and the child. Especially the child. What were her hopes – what did she think would happen? She had behaved so far and the idea of taking the child from her had faded along with his anger. He almost wanted to forgive her for her disobedience and her lies. And then he might actually accept the child and free it right away and name it his child. And let Charis be his son’s mother. But it all depended on how this conversation would go. Tertius had the triclinium made ready for this talk. A bit of wine, a bit of water and he’d asked Rhoda what Charis preferred to eat these days; he recalled from his time with his wife, that she had certain cravings when she was pregnant. This would be the first time he would spoil Charis after she tried to kill herself and the child; and after her punishment. But all that was in the past now. Now he sat on one couch and another was ready for her. He sent a slave to fetch Charis. Tertius was willing to move on… if she was. @Sara

July, 75 AD For how long had she been coming here now? Last time she saw Charis in person was in February, before she attempted to get rid of the child. It had been months now since she last saw her friend and she supposed most people would have given up by now. But not Cynane. She did not give up on her friend, not when she had promised she would be there when Charis needed her. And so here she was, again, standing opposite the home of Tertius Quinctilius Varus, where Charis lived. She hadn’t tried to approach anyone from the house, not since she met Teutus, who had been entirely unhelpful. Such a friend he was! She still hadn’t seen Charis though and she came here every week, on the same day they used to meet and around the same hour. Nothing had changed when it came to that. But there had been no sign of her friend and she didn’t wait as long as she once had. Maybe it was pointless. Maybe she should give up and return to the palace and come back next week… But then, just as she was about to turn away once more, a petite figure left the domus and it was a figure that was easily recognizable – even with the bump she had, she was quite a few months pregnant now, wasn’t she? Cynane felt slightly bad for having almost scolded Charis for wanting to get rid of the child. It wasn’t a child of love, after all. And her friend almost died because she didn’t want it – but now she was having it anyway. She almost felt shy, as she decided to approach her friend. She walked closer, hoping Charis would see her, unless she had forgotten everything. She didn’t seem to notice Cynane, so she approached her and touched her shoulder gently, suddenly feeling almost on the verge of tears and overwhelmed by meeting Charis once more… “Erea…” @Sara

30th of June - The Earthquake It was an early morning… actually, it was barely morning. Everyone in the entire household were asleep, not even the kitchen slaves or those taking care of the heating system were awake yet. Silence roamed the corridors and the chambers and Tertius was also asleep in his room together with Hector, always by his side now – at least when they were in here. In the last week, there had been light tremors to the ground. It had been shaking a few times, or perhaps more rattling, it wasn’t anything big and not something he hadn’t experienced before. To most people in Rome, these things weren’t entirely uncommon. Tertius had of course made sure to sacrifice to the right gods and to his ancestors too, asked them for help, just in case something should happen. And nothing had happened and all seemed to be fine. Until now… He woke up with a start, as the bed was shaking much. In fact, everything was shaking! It had been a warm night and he hadn’t cared to put on any clothes after sharing some pleasure with Hector, but now… “Hector!” He literally shook his body slave’s arm, “Earthquake!” He exclaimed while he heard vases or jars of wine fall off tables and shatter and there was dust in the air from the walls or the roof. Tertius jumped out of the bed. His tunica still lay on the floor and he quickly pulled it over his head while thinking that this was more than just a light tremor! No one in the house would sleep through this, surely! Tertius ran out of the room, “EVERYONE out into the peristyle!” He yelled. If one of the doorways gave in or the roof, people could die! Hopefully Hector was right behind him, also waking people up, while Tertius ran to Antonia’s room to get her up. And where in the name of Hades was Charis… oh, the child! Gods! Why were they angry? @Sharpie @Sara @Joaquin

Early June, 75 AD It had been a few weeks since that day, when Marcus had a hangover and he and Caecina decided to go for a ride in the countryside near the villa there. And they ended up by that stream and a game of truth or dare turned into something else. They had not had a chance to be entirely alone since then and maybe it was for the best. At first they’d sent each other stolen glances, after the kiss, but one day turned into the next and soon they fell into the ordinary routine. Maybe it didn't mean anything after all; maybe it was just a foolish spur of the moment thing and she had already forgotten it. Marcus didn't know, he hadn't asked. But maybe today? And now they had a few days to stay in Rome with Juliana, although she was occupied with social visits much of the time. And Marcus? He had plans. He and Caecina had talked about visiting the Poppina Via Lata together and he would still show it to her. He had asked if she wanted to go to the market with him one afternoon and she agreed. They were of course followed by each their own body slave, Marcus with Silvanus and Caecina had her Astraea with her. There was also a guard somewhere, alert and on the lookout, but Marcus paid him little attention while they both settled in each their own litter to be taken away from the domus in the city. Marcus told himself it wasn't so bad taking her here; it wasn't even evening and things usually got a little bit wilder in the evenings Once they reached the Poppina, as he had instructed the slaves that carried the litters to take them to, he stepped out first and held a hand for Caecina to help her out. He had a kind of mischievous smile on his face as he looked at her when she stood, “So… maybe I lied a little. As you can see, this is not the marketplace. Remember the day we talked about the Poppina Via Lata?” As if she would forget; he kissed her that very same day! But here they were and they were not alone. The litters would be taken away for now and they were left with their body slaves and the guard. @Echo

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

Early June, 75 AD Of course she knew she needed to find a new husband - or at least try. That was a woman’s role and lot in Rome. Grow up, get married, get kids… if you lose your husband, get another or your family will dislike you. She didn’t want to be disliked. And she did want to find a man who would marry her, for how else was Gaius to have a proper father to raise him? Her brother did well, of course, but he had a wife and kids of his own too and Gaius was just a nephew and not his own child. She needed a man of her own. But she also needed Lucia. She hoped her future husband would accept her. Pinaria could not imagine marrying and never embrace Lucia again, like she had done it the past year. She wanted it all. And somehow, she’d have it. That’s why she had gone to the temple today – to pray and make a sacrifice, so that a good man of honor and bravery would somehow be hers. After all, as long as she was married, she was a good wife and mother. She did not spend time alone with other men and certainly, if she did, they never touched. Not that she didn’t know Gaius had not been as good as her at that; and he didn’t even hide it, but she didn’t blame him. She didn’t love him, but they were friendly with each other. And they were wife and husband and a wife did not sleep around. She had to make sure her kids were also his kids. But now that he was gone, surely there was no problem with bedding someone else and especially not when the other person was a woman, who could not make her with child. It was alright, in her opinion. She hoped the gods would agree. Quietly she left the temple and found a marble bench nearby to sit on and ponder, while looking up at the beautiful structure in front of her. She knew the gods had their own strange ways and that humans were probably nothing else than toys to them. She had lost so many people in her lifetime. People she cared about or should have cared about. She never even knew her mother! She hoped that she would not lose Lucia and that the next person she came to care about, would not disappear on her either. She barely noticed that someone else joined her on the bench, until she moved to stand and her palla was stuck underneath the other person. It was somehow ripped off her and she stood with just her chiton on and a very surprised look on her face, "Excuse me!" She said, clearly upset, while reaching for her palla to get it back and put it on. This was very inappropriate!

Late April, 75 AD It had been a good day at the Ludus Magnus. Alexius had really begun enjoying it there. First there was lovely Thessala, who was a great friend and a great sparring partner. She seemed to enjoy fighting with him too. And then there was Annis and how could he not adore Annis? Gods that woman was just sexy and fun and… so many good things. Their medicus was nice enough too, Alexius liked him and really, all the gladiators, it reminded him of the good old days and it was never bad to watch them train up close either. Surrounded by dirt and sweat, but for some reason, he liked it like that! After sparring with Thessala today, he went to the nearby public baths together with some of the other gladiators, to clean up before going out tonight. It was late afternoon and as far as he knew, Oriana didn’t need him tonight. She hadn’t said so. They had fallen apart lately… so he thought he might just go out and enjoy a drink or ten and someone lovely too. There were other people in the baths too of course and Alexius noticed a young man looking towards the area where the gladiators were bathing and joking between each other. He almost felt as if he was one of them, but of course he wasn't. He could leave. They would have to return to the ludus, they were slaves. Alexius gave a young man watching them a smile, while he dried his body with a towel and got dressed in his blue-grey tunica and short breeches again. Then he exited the baths and stood for a moment outside the gates, stretching his arms and legs a bit. Gods it had been such a good day today! Fighting made him feel alive! As he stood there, the young guy from before walked up the road towards where he stood, probably actually planning to walk past him… but Alexius saw the way he looked earlier and honestly… the youth didn’t look too bad himself! “Greetings... I think I saw you just before, didn't I? You saw something, I know that.” He'd been naked, after all. Alexius asked with a playful tone and a wink, when the younger man was close enough. @Ejder

Early May, 75 AD Ah, time for a bath. Silvanus was with him, of course, but he might get left behind to watch the clothes… Marcus didn’t want anything stolen from his things and he knew the bath slaves could be quite good at picking stuff up. It was nice to be in the city, but it wasn’t like he never came here. He didn’t mind the travel between the villa and Rome, because he loved being in Rome, despite all the filth and dirt in the streets. At least the houses where he came were nice and he really did enjoy the baths. Silvanus carefully helped him undress and was instructed to never take his eyes off Marcus clothes, when Marcus finally wrapped a piece of cloth around his waist and entered the actual thermae. He moved straight into the tepidarium, the hot sweating room, where he found himself a seat by a wall on a marble bench. The hot and humid air was thick in the room and he could see other men sitting here and there, but he couldn’t make out who they were. Then a tall and darkhaired figure appeared from the mist and sat down near Marcus, on the same bench as he. He paid him little mind at first, but thought he looked familiar out of the corner of his eye. And when he turned his head, who was it… none other than Lucius Cassius Longinus? The man who brought him to Rome, although he barely remembered much from it, since he was nothing but a small child. Of course he had seen the man since then, but they didn’t spend a lot of time together. He’d know him anywhere though and now he’d seen him, it would be rude to not speak to him. “Greetings, Senator.” Marcus said politely, as he’d learned, while brushing some of his blonde locks away from his forehead. He could be quite different with his friends but as far as he knew, Longinus was a respected Senator and if he wanted to get his own hopes up about reaching so far, he should remember his manners… even in the thermae, “What a coincidence to find you here.” @Sara ((does the dating of the thread work for you?))

10th June, 75AD TW: miscarriage Longinus sat in silence on the beach, down the cliffside path from his villa just outside of Formiae. It was deserted, even at this time of year by virtue of the setting sun which cast long shadows over the sand and reflected off the water. The villa itself was no more populated with a skeleton staff of people he had forgot he even employed; a girl to cook in the kitchen and a few odd-job slaves that crept around him with thinly veiled annoyance in their eyes that their dominus was suddenly intruding on the peace and serenity of having run of a patrician's villa without oversight. He'd left everybody else behind in Rome; Vitus his secretary had been left with instructions not to disturb him for anything (save the health of his mother or daughter). Attis was still at Titus', despite the fact the morning he had found out he had been due to go over and collect him. He couldn't face his body slave's smirks or even worse his concern or gods forbid his pity. His mother and daughter were left with run of the domus, and all of his other attendants were left behind. He needed to be alone. It had happened so quickly Longinus only now had time to breathe. On the morning of the 23rd of May he had received a flustered, tear-stricken slave girl into his house who breathlessly informed him that her domina, his betrothed was on a ship bound for Carthage - escorted by her fathers men. Abandoning his trip to collect Attis, he instead had, without a moment's thought, taken a horse to Ostia, only to find out the ship had sailed at first light and was long gone by now. The rest of the day had been spent trying to barter passage on a ship to follow it, and it was only the insistence of his mother - finally - late that night, that made him relent. He would wait, he thought, to find out exactly what had happened. He would wait to be summoned by her father, and then make his amends in the proper, dignified fashion. The letter he received on the 30th of May, the day before his wedding - when all the preparations were set, when nobody had been informed that anything was awry - was almost unbelievable. The graffiti that had gone up around the city - that he'd seen and largely ignored - had been sighted by those close to the Proconsul of Africa. He had sent his men, as quickly as good winds would allow, to collect his daughter and her sons - sweep them back into his aggressive, controlling arms. Yet that was not the worst of it. She didn't describe what happened, or how it happened, but the child was gone. Miscarried, lost forever. Gone. With no ties to him now, and her fathers rage, she - the woman he had been due to marry tomorrow had signed the letter; The last few weeks, months had given me more pleasure or happiness than I ever thought to experience. But it is not enough. I see the folly in thinking I could have so much, for ignoring my father, for ignoring my duties as a mother and as a widow. I was wrong. Please do not come here, please do not write back Lucius. This is over - even if it is not the way we ever envisaged it to end. My children - those still with me - must come first, and I can no longer tarnish their reputations via my actions. I am sorry. Goodbye. Sestia. Throughout his life he had experienced loss - as many do. His father, his mentor and friend, his men in war and in peacetime, his wife and now his betrothed and his child - who the Gods never even allowed to draw a breath. Yet the sting of this loss was so acute he could not cope. Not this time. He had packed that night and instructed Vitus to send messages to his friends on his behalf, saying merely that the wedding was cancelled and the engagement broken off. Should anybody pry, the reason was that the dowry could not be agreed. It was something simple - clean and neat that expunged them both of the dirtiness that had befallen them. He had left for Formiae the next morning after a brief, cold farewell to his mother and a challenging goodbye to his daughter. He did not know when he'd return. What was left for him in Rome now to bring him back? A daughter that barely knew him? A mother that was content to live her life as she'd always done in his absences? Friends, of course, but they would move on. It wasn't as if he had a great desire for politics or glory. No. He'd be better off in Formaie he thought. So there he sat, on the waters edge. The wine he had drowned himself in that evening gave him pleasant, muddled sort of thoughts. It took the edge off of the wound that stung like a British axe to his chest. He cried. He didn't know the last time, certainly couldn't remember the last time he had cried but there he sat, sobbing into his hands. In the space of two weeks he had gone from a man of ambition; a decorated thrice-serving legate seeking a praetorship with a beautiful woman whom he loved (he begrudgingly admitted) about to be his wife, with a child on the way, to a man sat sobbing in the sand, alone. He wondered if the Gods were laughing or sobbing with him.

Nones of May 75AD Longinus sat drumming his fingers against the rim of his wine cup, occasionally glancing at the door. What he enjoyed most, of course, about the Poppina Via Lata was the two-building scheme. The night would start here, in the building reserved for Rome's upper echelons before descending into the depravity with the plebs and the slaves next door. He took a sip and resumed his drumming, waiting for both Titus and Aulus, nerves eating into the pit of his stomach. Judging by the surprised reaction in their letters neither of them were none the wiser as to the true (at least initial) motivation behind the wedding which was a relief. He'd carefully considered what he'd say and it largely centred on; not being sixteen anymore so knowing what he wanted; that he likes and admires Sestia; he's not getting much younger and needs a son, and well...it is him. Longinus was certainly never a man that could be considered entirely conventional. He did hope to brush the whole 'permission from her father' under the rug as much as possible, but his friends were astute men and would likely ask. He just hoped he'd come up with something convincing on the spot to explain it, because so far his mind was coming up decidedly empty. His attention was caught by a shadow blocking his path and he glanced up from his thoughts to the face of his friend. A wide, beaming smile crossed his face as he embraced the man. TAG: @Sharpie @Liv

The graffiti that went up in late May 75AD, a week and a half before the wedding of Lucius Cassius Longinus and Sestia Vaticana was poorly drawn but effective. It depicted the pair in question in what can only be described as explicitly lewd acts. Scrawled underneath the images was the phrase; 'Lucius Cassius Longinus and Sestia Vaticana fucked here. A wedding? Or a cover-up?'. It littered corners near the tavern in which they had met in the Subura, on the side of poppina's on the Esquiline and undoubtedly in other places yet undiscovered throughout the city. Feel free to post any reactions in this thread!

Mid-May, 75 AD There were plenty of villas in the countryside near Rome and this was just one of them. And it was the one he just happened to live in – because really, where else should he live, when his brother made sure they had no family home anymore? Not that life was bad here. There had been a social event – a party – at one of the other villas last night and Marcus had persuaded Caecina to come, explaining how important it was with the connections they’d make, although really he just didn’t want to go to the party alone. And she probably knew that. They’d lived together on and off since Flavia Juliana married Caecina’s father, after all. Now it was the day after the party and Marcus had slept in and was woken, when one of the slaves came to clean up a little of the mess Marcus made last night, when he came home. The fine toga was dropped on the floor along with his sandals. He sighed and covered his face with his hands, he had a headache. Of course he did. He drank wine last night. And not just a little. He barely remembered the ride home in the carriage, but he remembered Caecina had been there too. He hadn't left her at the party. Or maybe it was her who didn't leave him behind, when she left? It was all a bit of a blur. “Something to drink. Not wine.” Marcus waved at the slave without looking at them and they hurried to find what he wanted, leaving him alone for a bit too. He sat up in the bed and pushed the covers away. He’d passed out in his tunica and held up a bit of the sleeve… yes, he needed a clean one! When the slave returned, he asked for a clean tunica and that was fetched for him too. Soon he was somewhat dressed – just the tunica and a belt – and the slave got him some slippers too. With a cup of water in his hand, he wandered to the peristyle and found another sofa to lie down in. It was a warm morning and it was nice and quiet in the villa so far. He closed his eyes, just a little bit… and then when he heard some footsteps approaching, he assumed it was another slave and didn’t even care to open his eyes when he made his next request, “Get me something to eat.” @Echo

Late March, 75 AD "... we will see each other in two weeks, like usual…" That’s what Charis had said, last time they met. Back when Charis had revealed she was pregnant and she was going to take some herbs that could remove the child. She weas certain she’d be fine, even though Cynane had been quite worried about her friend. And after two weeks of waiting impatiently, Cynane had gone to look for Charis at their usual spot in the gardens. She had also gone to that spot near the house where Charis lived, to wait for her there. But there was no Charis. A week later, she did the same. And a week later. Many weeks passed and there was no sign of her friend and Cynane naturally feared the worst. She asked around at the markets, where she knew Charis usually came, but no one had seen her. She was just… gone. It wasn’t right! Fucking Roman! If only he had not touched Charis, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant and she would not have taken those herbs… and removed the child and... it went wrong, didn’t it? Charis didn’t survive. Pretty and sweet and fun and caring Charis was gone. Charis, maybe the only person in Rome she dared to reveal herself to. Because of her stupid prick of an owner! A month had passed since she last saw her friend in late February. She had been out, looking for Charis again. And now she ended up here, near the domus where Charis lived. She stood for a long time, watching the house from the nearby spot where they sometimes met and sometimes said their goodbyes. She stared at the house and wished her gaze could set it on fire. She was of course sad that Charis died, but Cynane had learned to change emotions of sadness into those of anger and hatred – it was easier to be angry than sad. And it was really a miracle that the house did not burn down while Cynane looked at it from a distance. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell Charis’ owner a thing or two about how she felt. No, wait, she’d rather show him. That would be more interesting! Finally she walked up to the house and around to find the slave entrance to the place. And there she knocked on the door. A woman, who must be Rhoda, according to Charis’ description of the woman, opened up and gave Cynane a strange look… “Yes? Who are you?” “I’m a friend of Charis’. I want to see her.” If she was dead, she could not see her of course. But at least then she would know the truth instead of just assuming. She needed to hear someone say it; Charis is dead. That would make it easier, right? Rhoda got a puzzled, but also somewhat sad look on her face and she glanced over her shoulder, then back at Cynane, “You can’t see her. No one can.” She explained and Cynane sighed deeply. “So it is true then. She’s… dead.” Cynane said, the words came easily although they were heavy. She fought the urge to cry in front of a stranger. She would not cry, not here, not in front of this woman… not in public… “She lives.” Rhoda then said, almost in a whisper, and Cynane looked up again, “But you better leave. She’s not coming to see you or anyone anytime soon. It’s best you don’t hope for it.” The older woman added, but that didn’t help. “I see. But I will hope. She would do the same for me. Tell her that I’ll be waiting.” Cynane replied to the woman. “I can’t tell her, I’m not allowed to see her either. Now go!” Rhoda insisted and closed the door. Cynane glared at that door. So Charis was alive - but not allowed out. Was she locked up somewhere? Chained to a wall? Cynane had tried that as a gladiatrix… it wasn’t amusing. At least she lived, though. Cynane finally left with heavy steps and came out in front of the house again, angry and upset, to walk back to the gardens where she could be alone. Meanwhile she let it all build up inside of her again – all the anger. Fucking Romans! She was walking so determinedly, that she didn’t care about what happened and unintentionally (or was it?) her shoulder bumped hard into that of a younger and well-dressed man on his way towards the front entrance to the house. @Sharpie

Late May, 75 AD Alexius could barely remember, when he last saw Charis – but it was quite a long time ago. Not that he had thought much about it, it wasn’t as if they ever planned to meet. They just happened to run into each other, after that first time they met, when he saved her from that wretch called Helios. Luckily for Helios, Alexius had not seen him since. And he had seen Charis. She was a very lovely young woman and still not assimilated into Rome, something he actually appreciated. Alexius knew now that he was more Roman than what he wanted to be, so Charis was a breath of fresh air to his too Roman self. And an attractive one too. Not that he’d forgotten what happened the one time he kissed her, nor the fact that she wanted them to be friends, despite how much he had wanted a few benefits with the friendship. But on the other hand, he did enjoy spending time with her. Not that they were close friends, but he liked her. And now he had not seen her in a long while, in fact all winter. He had been busy with Oriana and his job and his son, who lost his mother and now only had Alexius. And when spring came, so did the desires once more… for more than the strange affair going on at home. Now it was almost not even springtime anymore; summer was approaching quickly and Alexius had an afternoon off to enjoy the pleasures of Rome. He’d gone to the market and while other people went there to look at the stalls, even if they were unable to buy anything because they had little money… Alexius went there to look at people, even if he was unable to flirt with everyone because he was supposed to have enough at home. But did he? With Oriana always on the lookout for a future husband, that most definitely would not be a freedman and former gladiator? With a son from his time as a slave… he doubted it, still. Not that they talked about it anymore; the subject was too sore and none of them wanted to give up on the other, it seemed. Even if it was doomed. So now, with a doomed affair at home, he sat down to watch people, with a cup of wine in his hand from the nearest taverna. He had found a stone bench by a building, so that he could lean back. And as he sat there, watching one lovely person after another walk by, there was suddenly a very familiar figure among them! Alexius smiled, downed the wine and approached her with the empty cup in his hand. “Charis! It is you, isn’t it? It’s been too long.” He said with a cheerful smile, which turned into one of surprise when she turned to face him and he’d see her pregnant state. Now that, he had not expected! He could easily imagine who the father of the child was, but this wasn't new. They had a lot of catching up to do, didn't they? “Far too long, it seems!” @Sara

Early May, 75 AD So here he was again. At the arena, to see gladiators fight. Maybe it was an addiction? Now that he was no longer a gladiator, he could at least look at them. Think that he used to hate it, back then, but now that he was free, it was what he enjoyed spending time looking at. Thinking back to the time where he stood down there, on the sands, with the crowd wrapped around his finger as they called out his name and threw praises his way and the women threw more than just that. But then there was the part about being a slave, being forced to fight to survive. Being forced to kill to live and he had no choice. And then of course the other part of it. Gladiators were little more than most other slaves, owned by the Empire and anyone in it could buy a private time with him. And he’d have to do whatever they wanted him to do, because that’s how it was, when you were a slave and a gladiator. Great, so he’d been daydreaming again and now the first entertainment had come to the sands. No Thessala today, it seemed, but there was the gorgeous blonde, Annis. He’d seen her before, both fighting and also at the ludus, when he came to see Thessala and spar with her. But he’d yet to meet this one. She was good. She had a warriors blood in her, he could tell. And she was tall, because she was not born around here. Alexius did enjoy gladiatrices and not just because he’d loved one of them, once, back in the day. They were so fierce, so independent in their own way. Not sweet and meek like Roman women. That’s also why he enjoyed Oriana so much, because she could act the same way, sometimes. But the gladiatrices… there was just something about them. She won, of course. He yelled along with the rest of the crowd and then decided it was about time he met this one. Spared her the humiliation of sleeping with a random Roman who bought his way into her cell and to her bed. He wouldn’t force her. But if she wanted him, he’d be stupid to say no, wouldn’t he? So he left the seats of the arena and hurried down the steps and corridors and towards the gladiators dark corridors underneath the arena. He knew these like the palm of his hand. Finally he encountered a guard and paid a few coins to be allowed access to her. Annis would have been shown to a room of her own, most likely unaware of who was coming to see her. Gladiators and their female counterparts were often sold to wealthy romans for fun – he’d been through all of that too, once. But that wasn’t why he’d come here… he just wanted to meet her and hear how she was doing. He was led to the right room and the guard unlocked the door and let him enter. The door closed behind Alexius and he looked around in the faint light of the room, finally setting his eyes upon the fierce and blood-stained blonde warrior. Gods, she was more stunning up close, wasn't she? “Greetings, Annis. You fought well today.” He said with a charming smile to her, not coming closer to her just yet, instead staying near the door until he knew how approachable she was. @Echo

March, 75 AD Things were still strange at home. He did his best to try and connect with young Lexus, his son, but he never had a son before and did not quite know how! Lexus had seemed surprised too at meeting his father, and then his son's mother was suddenly dead and everything was strange. Add to that Alexius' affair with the mistress of the house - an affair he certainly enjoyed and when he was with her, there was nothing he wanted more but to stay with her. Yet he was nothing but a freedman and former gladiator and she was much too used to luxuries to ever marry a man like him. It just wouldn't happen; he did not think it would. So sometimes he just had to escape the strangeness of Oriana's home and get out and have a drink or two, as usual. So Alexius did that. It was evening and at the tavern he had a good talk with a very handsome young man, but in the end, the youth left with a just as attractive lady and Alexius had halfway considered if they would need a third party to their fun... but then decided to let the young have their fun and experiences alone and thus he wandered out onto the street, half-drunk and with a mind on finding his way home. First though, maybe just one more tavern and one more drink? Alexius had no idea if it was late or early in the evening, when he approached the next tavern and opened his purse to check if he had more coins. He did. Good, more wine then! Just leaving the tavern though was a gang of men, four of them, and they were dragging someone between them. Clearly someone who did not want to come with them! Alexius was not very fond of injustice like that and seeing someone unwilling being manhandled like that, made him want to help. Alexius saw them enter the alley near the tavern and now he definitely thought that something was shady about this. He decided to follow - because there were three things he never turned down. Wine, good looking people and fights... and this might be the latter! And just as he guessed, in the alley the unwilling person was pressed up against the wall by the men and Alexius inhaled a breath. "Hey, what are you doing? Let them go!" Alexius called out to the men and two of them approached him, "... or what?" One of them asked with a laugh and Alexius walked closer. They were definitely bad eggs, these! "Just do as I said, let them go. I don't want to have to hurt you." Alexius said and they laughed again. One of them pulled a knife. Well, fuck. He didn't bring any knife. Not that he would ever back out of a fight, just because he had no knife. He survived years in the arena, so he could definitely survive this too. Alexius inhaled a breath, bracing himself. Later, he barely remembered who started, but there was a struggle with the two men - while two others held the fifth person by the wall - and Alexius earned himself a fresh wound cut into his arm and a bruise on his cheek, but for some reason, the men had not planned on fighting a bodyguard and former gladiator. They had not planned on sticking around for this long and they didn't want to get caught. The two by the wall decided to call it off, and the four bad guys ran for it. They left the person they dragged among them, in the alley behind them, over there by the wall. Alexius brushed his clothes, they were not too dirty despite that he'd landed on the ground with at least one of the men and he took a quick glance at his upper arm where the knife had met his flesh. It was bleeding. The sleeve on his tunica was soaked. Nothing new there... he decided to pay attention to it later. There were more important things here, because the last person still stood over there by the wall in the shade of it, "Hey, are you alright?" He then asked, slowly approaching them. ((who the person is, you decide... could be your male or female character or a third party and your character was just a bystander or comes in after the fight... that is up to you))

Mid February, 75AD Horatia scanned the markets with a discerning eye, but a withering look on her face at the tat that was being offered. "What do you get a man that could afford to buy anything he wanted?" She said with a sigh, to nobody in particular. Casting a glance over her shoulder to Felix, she smiled mischievously; "You're worth your weight in gold, Felix, in every other capacity - lets see how you fare with gift shopping." Taking the man with her to the markets served a dual purpose; foremost to ask his advice, as the person closest to her husband than...well...anybody, herself included, but likewise for protection. The litter had been deposited some way back and the hum and crowds of the markets were a nuisance at the best of times, but fine weather and clear skies had driven out the masses and she was being jostled left right and centre before Felix had lengthened his stride. His imposing bulk had the brilliance of making crowds part as if he were parting an ocean and she breathed more freely with him close by. To others it might seem strange, to celebrate a date in the diary as she did, but tomorrow marked a particularly special occasion for Horatia outside of the usual birthdays and weddings. Tomorrow would be the seventh anniversary of Aulus' return to Rome after those years of absence in Cappadocia, Germania and Britannia. It had started as a habit the year after he'd returned - she'd given him a posy of flowers picked from the gardens herself, but as the years had gone on and their lives and marriage had settled down, she had begun to feel more content in splurging a little. Besides, not all of her wealth was tied to his and she had enough disposable income from her father to afford something special. But what special was, she had no idea. Last years gift had been planned weeks in advance, but she'd failed this year and so here she was, in the swarming market, hoping their faithful slave could offer guidance. Turning once more to look over her shoulder to him, she arched a brow; "Fabric for a tunic is out, it's too late to sew one ready for tomorrow and books seem wasteful." She was the reader in the family, and whatever she chose for him would likely not be to his tastes. She offered a gentle grin to Felix; "Any bright ideas, Felix?" But her smile was gone as somebody's elbow collided with her ribs and she winced. Gods she hated the markets. TAG: @Chevi

January, 75 AD Oriana was so lovely. He could not get enough of her when they were together, but when they were not, he was not sure what to think or feel. He knew she sometimes saw actual suitors and he knew that despite what she told him, she probably did want to rise in ranks here in Rome. She enjoyed her luxuries and she was clever and independent. And she didn't want her man sleeping around, like he had a tendency to, at least before he met her. Alexius tried to stay true. He tried hard. Did he fail or not? Well that was something he did not talk about. Something else had occurred in her home too though; in the fall, the arrival of his son Lexus, whom he had never met before, but now knew in person. Lexus was a handsome young man, but a lot more clumsy than Alexius and a lot more... inexperienced. Alexius did not think he was that inexperienced even at his son's age! Lexus' mother's death had been hard on the boy though, so he wouldn't push the boy either. Today, Lexus was busy in the garden and Oriana had again left the house without caring to ask her bodyguard to come! Probably to see a suitor again, he had an idea that's why she did not tell him. She knew he'd be jealous too. It was all a mess, the affair with his employer, and he often considered just quitting the job and leaving her to maybe ask sweet Gaia if she'd have him work for her. But then Oriana was so lovely in the nights. There were so many things he could do, and then there's what he did... and since his employer was gone and his son was busy working, Alexius thought he might just find himself a drink somewhere. It was still broad daylight when he entered his old favorite tavern, not so far from the ludii and of course run by the most amazing freedwoman and former gladiatrix, Bellona. He entered the place and was about to get himself a cup of wine, when he spotted another familiar and quite pretty lady in there, sitting all alone. Well she was not that familiar, but also not unfamiliar. He'd seen her at one of the ludii where he'd gone to see the gladiators train. And at one of the ludii, he had not failed to notice this particular pretty woman, also watching the gladiators train, but from the inside of the ludus. She was probably a slave, but that mattered little to him. He had seen her before, she was quite attractive and all alone - and he decided she was familiar enough to approach her. First though, he bought a jar of wine and seeing that she already had a cup, he only needed one for himself. Hopefully she would not deny good company and wine, since she was on her own. Then Alexius approached her with a friendly smile on his face, "Greetings, lovely lady... I hope you won't mind if I sit down here and share this with you?" He nodded to the jar of wine in his hand, "I think I've seen you at one of the ludii, haven't I?" @Liv