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  1. February 77 Tiberius was studying or reading or something - Jason had had no idea that scrolls could be so endlessly fascinating! - which had led to Jason's being able to take a few moments for himself, so long as he stayed within call of his master's rooms. That was easily done; his master was in one of the rooms off a private courtyard which gave Jason the opportunity to enjoy the outdoor space while still being within an easy call. He had found a patch of grass in the sun where he could lay down and stare up at the blue sky above, trying to pretend he was looking at a portion of the vast skies over the steppe at home. It wasn't quite working, though, he couldn't hear horses from his position, and the grass wasn't tall enough for the wild prairie grass. Nor was the wind the constant fresh breeze of his home. It was all he could get, though, and if the force of Jason's wishes could move the steppe to where he lay, Tiberius would have looked up to find himself surrounded by eternal horizon where the blue sky and the green grass met. @Atrice
  2. Saturnalia, 76 AD Cynane was waiting just outside the palace and hoped that Tiranês would show up soon, as they had decided. It was, after all, Saturnalia! The one holiday the Romans got right, at least. The one holiday where slaves got to feel like free people and could do (almost) anything they pleased. As long as they’d show up for work the next day. Well there was always the next day. Sometimes she’d thought it was a way to mock the slaves, tell them to go and have fun, but remember, you are still slaves. There’s always tomorrow! But tomorrow was not now. She was unsure of where they were going, but her blood-brother said he had a good idea and she’d happily see what he had in store. And keep him safe on the way. She had tried to dress up, but she still didn’t want to look like someone she wasn’t. So she still wore breeches and a thigh-long tunica, easy to move around in. She’d dropped the leather armor for tonight, but she still wore her braids. Maybe a bit fancier than on a daily basis, since it was Saturnalia. She recalled Tiranês speaking of many smaller braids in the hair, she didn’t know if it was a style the women among his people kept, but she’d tried to recreate it. Casually she leaned against the wall, ignoring the stares of anyone passing by, like she always did. If they glared at her and she did look back, they’d wish they didn’t. She didn’t want their attention. All she wanted was the company of someone she liked, and she didn’t like many people in Rome. And luckily, soon enough it was Tiranês who joined her and she greeted him with a smile, “Finally! Shall we go? And... where are we going?” @Sharpie @Chevi ( @Sara )
  3. Jason's master had taken up residence in the villa attached to the Gardens of Sallust, but he still attended the Senate meetings regularly, and slaves still couldn't enter the Curia. Jason had wandered further, from the Forum Romanum towards the Forum Holitorium, the vegetable market. Why the vegetable market? He had no real idea, except it wasn't the meat market closer to the Palatine and the huge structure of the Circus Maximus. Thoughts of the Circus made him think of his cousin and he wondered for a moment what Azarion was up to right now - though if he went to see him, chances were good that he'd end up spending far too long with him and get into trouble when he finally recalled the time and went to find his master. It wasn't worth the risk, especially as he got to see Azarion on a fairly regular basis now. So, it would have to be apples and carrots and cucumbers and gods knew what else. It wasn't really worth getting any carrots or apples; if he had another chance to visit the Imperial stables, or the new stables at the new villa, the stable master would surely have something to hand. He stepped back from the stall and jostled someone who'd been standing perhaps too close without realising. "Oh - sorry," he said, though it was a little late. @Insignia
  4. It was the month the Romans called October, which mean that the city was cooler than it had been, though it was far from being winter - not that Rome had winters like those Jason remembered from his childhood, that forced his people to move for better pasture and when the steppe was covered in snow that meant they were confined far more to the camp. He was in the garden today, the small garden near his master's quarters. Close enough to be to hand if he was needed, far enough away that he could feel he wasn't on a leash, or at least that the leash wasn't as short and tight as usual. Today, he was repairing a belt. Technically, he didn't have to, but it was something he wanted to do, and it was a skill he had, one among many. He'd had so many skills and things taken away he was not about to hand this to someone else to do when he could do it himself. He looked up after a moment to find that he wasn't alone any more. He had been joined by his master's sister's bodyguard, a tall blonde slave called Cynane, who he hadn't really spoken to very much. He wasn't sure if she was sizing him up or merely watching out of curiosity, and offered a smile. "Good afternoon." @Atrice
  5. Two days after the races at the Circus Neronianus (stupid name), and Jason had tracked down the boy he'd seen racing, that he thought looked remarkably like his cousin, last seen being hauled off, kicking and screaming and with blood everywhere, to be sold gods-knew-where to gods-knew-who. How and why he'd ended up here in Rome, the same city Jason was now living in, was a minor miracle. The fact that he'd seen and recognised him was a bigger miracle - how close had they been, for how long? They could have passed one another a hundred times in the Forum or the streets and never seen one another, and for Jason to have seen his cousin racing a chariot for the Whites... He had followed his master home docilely and slipped out to the garden during the night to give thanks to Tabiti for the preservation of his cousin, the last member of his family he had seen and to ask for her continued blessing on the boy (chariots were not horses, but it was closer to actual riding than Jason himself had come for several years), as well as for her favour when it came time to speak with his master. He had left as an offering a bronze coin of indeterminate provenance, whose reverse showed a horse. Tabiti would understand. That had been the night after seeing his cousin at somewhat of a distance. Today, he had permission to come to the Whites' stables to try to see his cousin from a lot closer up. Maybe even to actually talk to him, if the gods smiled on them and Azarion's masters would allow it. He entered the stable-yard and was hit full-force with nostalgia - the layout was all wrong but the sounds and scents were all right. He hadn't been so close to this many horses for the best part of ten years, and had to swallow. "I'm looking for Azarion," he managed in accented Latin, addressing the first person he saw who might spare him enough time to point his cousin out. He was in luck; the other waved him towards a stall where he could see his cousin's dark head as he moved around the horse. Feeling relieved that he'd been right in thinking the boy was his cousin, and somewhat jealous that he hadn't been renamed - though how he would have asked for him if he had been was anyone's guess, he crossed to the indicated stall. He would not interrupt Azarion's work; simply waiting would allow him to spend that bit longer in an environment that took him straight back to his childhood. @Chevi
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