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  1. Britannia, 67AD Attis had grown used to the life of a Legate's personal slave with the Legions in Britannia. He was still growing used to the weather and the wet and the mud, but after that first time tripping over a grass hummock, he hadn't manage anything quite so ignominious again, certainly not where anyone could see. Oh, for paved roads again, though - they were building some outside the fort, but the fort itself was still a ditch, a wooden palisade and rows and rows of tents, with one or two more permanent structures like the bathhouse and the Praetorium and prison. It hadn't taken him too long to find his way around, Roman army camps were laid out in nice neat straight lines with all the important buildings (or tents) in the middle and the less important ones outside of them and so on, right to the edges of the camp by the palisade. Which meant that at least his master's tent, one of the nice big ones, was near the middle of the camp. Longinus was elsewhere at the moment, either on the parade square or in the Praetorium, and Attis wasn't needed, so once he'd finished his current chores, he ducked out of the tent for some air somewhere. He pulled his cloak around his shoulders; autumn here might be pretty but there was a chill in the air that he really wasn't used to, and he'd been told it would only get worse as winter wore on. There was a familiar slight figure up ahead, the interprex Aius - Attis had seen him around, of course. Longinus didn't always dispense with Attis when he was doing Legion business, and occasionally had need of an interpreter while doing Legionary business. "Salve," he said, stepping out of the way as Aius approached - Attis the slave was marginally beneath Aius the free peregrinus in the grand scheme of things. It seemed they were both going the same way, to the cookhouse for food. Of course. @Chevi
  2. Late May, 74AD Charis glanced around nervously. Since she had been in Rome she had yet to get used to the way these people seemed to relish nudity, and the public experience of bathing. At home, she'd steal away to one of the rivers near her home to bathe in peace and alone. This, right now in Rome, was deeply uncomfortable for her. Still, it was at least time outside of the domus and away from her domine and the other slaves. A time for peace. Even if she resented that most of the meagre coins she was sometimes given, were frittered away on washing. Seated in the apodyterium, her tunica thrown over her lap and chest to shield what modesty she had left, she avoided the glances of curious Romans. It was quieter now, but not without a smattering of people. She had learnt, in her months here, that early evening was a suitable time to visit. Most citizens were dining and their slaves serving and preparing their food. Given her work was now in the gardens, and required light, she could venture out largely unobstructed. Deftly, her fingers worked through the knots in her hair, having pulled it over her shoulder. It was damp from the tepidarium, and she was braiding it. Here the Romans seemed to wish for their women to have these great elaborate styles that she could never recreate, or else loosely tied up off the neck. She missed the braids she had worn at home, and the action of plaiting it was soothing to her. Glancing to the left and debating another dip into one of the baths, a voice caught her off guard and she glanced up. TAG: @Chevi
  3. Claudia Caesaris was a sweet and beautiful young woman, who had been through a lot. Cynane had learned that at least, after she’d been here almost two years, working as a guard for the young princess. And while Claudia had probably never had a day of hard work in her life, Cynane still cared about her, for reasons she could not quite grasp. The girl was a princess, after all, and her life could not have been much more different from the life Cynane had. Her childhood was happy, her youth had a lot of fighting in it and then the battle where her party lost and she was taken captive and became a gladiatrix in Rome a year after… but at least she was no longer on the sands, no, she was here in the palace and her life had definitely improved, even if she was still a slave. And even if she still had her opinions about the Romans and their way of life. Today she had little to do, it seemed. Claudia was staying in the palace and she was having some visitors over today. She knew the family, as they sometimes did visit the imperial family and did attend social events here. They were safe, Cynane judged. Once the guests had arrived, Cynane was instructed to stay nearby and alert, as always, but they didn’t want to be interrupted, so she settled down in a nearby more open area of the palace, watching everyone who’d come and go in the direction of her young Domina. There had been another with the visitors though, who apparently also had to give them some privacy after being introduced, so Cynane was soon joined by their servant, or whatever she was. She was dressed somewhat strangely – not as a guard, like Cynane, but she wasn’t dressed entirely feminine either, like most other women. She didn’t have long hair like most women either – even like Cynane – but it wasn’t entirely short either. She was pretty though, she decided, especially quite liking the red hair. She didn’t look very Roman to Cynane. Meanwhile Cynane was in the usual garb for her job, although not the fancy garb she wore for social events and when going out... but she wore her long, blonde hair in three braids collected into one long braid, starting from the top of her head, and she had her light blue tunica and the brown breeches and good sandals on her feet. She also wore her leather vest and had a belt and a blade by her side; she would never go without it. She probably appeared quite fierce compared to most other women in Rome, who were not gladiators. Cynane decided to speak to the woman, who seemed to not be entirely sure of where to go in the great palace, “Salve.” Cynane greeted the redhead, “I’m Cynane, Claudia Caesaris’ guard, in case they didn’t tell you. You are with my Domina’s guests today?” She spoke her Latin very well, but it was impossible to hide the accent of Britannia, because Latin was not her mother tongue. @Chevi
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