A day at the races

[Sharpie]

He'd drawn his master's attention. Well... oops?

He wasn't interested in his master, or what else was going on in his immediate vicinity; he was interested in what was going on down on the track (though he was grateful his master's position meant that they were positioned close enough to the track to be able to see properly). Naturally, if his master wanted him, that was one thing, but he wasn't paying attention to Tiberius although he'd be quick enough to notice if he was signalled, or otherwise addressed.

That charioteer did look very familiar... if it was Azarion... Jason had spent the last eight years thinking that his cousin was dead, although admittedly he hadn't seen him die. The treatment he'd received had left very little hope that he might have survived, yet for him to be here...! It wasn't riding, but it was working with horses - Jason knew horses, knew that anyone able to control them the way the charioteers were would have to be in contact with them, working with them... It wasn't like home but it was the nearest a Sarmatian could get while stuck in the closed-in city.

It was something.

If this was the only glimpse he could get of his cousin for another eight years, it was something, and he felt hope blossom in his chest where it hadn't for a very long time. Tabiti had been merciful in keeping his cousin alive and in showing him this much. He could only hope his cousin had had (or would have) a like glimpse of him, in turn.

 

@Chevi @Sarah @Atrice @Járnviðr

[Sarah]

Tiberius couldn't help but wonder what was going through his body slave's head, so fixated was he on the race below. Another man further along the stands watched equally keenly, though he glanced up at the Imperial box occasionally. The young Imperial found himself intrigued by the race in spite of himself, if only because apparently many others were. He hadn't thought it was a particularly important one but now he watched more closely.

@Chevi@Sharpie@Atrice@Járnviðr

[Sharpie]

The watching attendants were quick enough to drag the injured horses and driver and the wrecked chariot clear; they weren't from the Whites and thus didn't concern Marcus, whose focus was on the remaining seven teams now thundering down the back straight, heading for the turn at the near end of the spina, completing the first of the seven laps. Azarion was still with them, having apparently cleared the wreck with relative ease - it must have been the Reds' shipwreck because Marcus could only see one Red chariot left.

The teams were getting a little more strung out now, although it was still winnable by any of the seven left, supposing there was not another shipwreck.

He adjusted his pallium and clasped his hands behind his back, projecting an air of calm disinterest for those of his own faction who were waiting to attend to the horses and drivers once the seventh lap was over and they left the track to the more flashy quadrigae - he could see Flavius strutting his stuff somewhere while he waited. As ever.

 

@Chevi @Atrice @Sarah @Járnviðr

Edited January 22, 2022 by Sharpie