Snow Always Melts [Closed]

[Pentagon]

"I have matters to handle, unfortunately. I will talk with you tomorrow, and we will pool information and begin work. Please, however, refrain from making funereal arrangements for Periander. I have matters that may pertain to that particular issue. If you will leave with me, however, I believe it will increase the rhetorical significance of my slaves' actions.".


Claudia stood, mentally preparing herself for her encounter with her slaves. The pre-combat adrenaline was flowing freely, as usual. She had grown used to the light shaking in her extremities before her life was on the line, but chastised herself for it regardless. She was in no real danger, reluctant laborer slaves should pose no serious threat to a seasoned soldier, but she knew deep down that any fight could be deadly, and thought out her plan as she straightened her tunic and left the room, reclaiming her sword and taking a few deep breaths before waiting for Aemilia to join her in leaving the temple proper.


~***~


Hm. That was new. Titus didn't see the adoption coming, and he doubted most plebs wouldn't either. That would be real good for the lass, give her room to work with winning over the masses. Not sure it changed anything, though. Titus still had no idea who to bet on, and still figured cold silver was his best bet.


"That's good for her, that is. Glad to see your daughter's making her way in the world and all that, and good to hear she's getting rid of that mercy lark. Its like sugar, seems to me, spoils things if you use too much." That analogy was less good, Titus admitted, but they can't all be winners.


Titus assumed a much more professional disposition. Got to let these blue bloods know you're not one to be bossed around, not intimidated by their threats. He tried not to appear aggressive, but in his line of work, 'businesslike' usually ended up meaning 'aggressive'.


"Not sure it changes things from where I stand, though. I'm a businessman, and I've got to either make excellent silver or keep my word. Plebs understand this, and I'm sure your lass does too. I don't think a name's going to be enough to push me around, I've seen too many. Now, are you going to make me a better offer, or can I get back to business?"


Maybe a bit rude, but he'll see where the dice land before whipping himself for it.


~***~


Castor was directed to the garden, and Marcus greeted him with a smile. He made to get up, nearly spilling the wine at his elbow. Placing his history to the side, he made for Castor and greeted him with a hug.


"Castor! I trust you're feeling better? Take a seat, make yourself comfortable. My cook's making pheasant, it should be done any moment now. Can I get you a drink?"


Best to be welcoming, Marcus figured.

 

[Lucyfer]

Aemilia expected as much. Dealing with Marcus might be best without Claudia, anyway. The general was a figure of war. Aemilia was not yet that. In the future, she might gain such associations, but she’d prefer to be seen as more of a diplomat than a warmonger. “I can refrain from making the arrangements,” Aemilia said as she followed Claudia out. “I do hope you’re not expecting me to refrain from dealing with your slaves.”


Though as she said it, she wondered if she even could. Aemilia would hate to run from two fights that day, but she had no weapon. Stealing one from a slave would likely mean a slave’s death—merciful, Aemilia was not. Tarpeia knew that of her, at least.


Well, perhaps the scene would dictate matters, or Claudia’s direction. She wasn’t going to take a staged beating herself, though. That was simply out of the question.


~***~


Tarpeia put a hand on her hip. She had offered Titus a deal already, but he didn’t seem inclined to work both sides. “What a pity,” he was denying receiving funds from both.


No, she wouldn’t speak well of him to Aemilia. “No, I’m afraid I can get your services cheaper from another. Business, you understand,” Tarpeia smiled, knowing he would understand that perfectly. If she paid Jana Posco a little more, some of her girls would go to the Via Lata to put up the graffiti required.


If there were any fights over it, all the better. It would show that the opinions were not as clear as Marcus would hope. It would show to both sides that there was division, and there was power in that, too. “Besides, I’d rather that slimy git waste his money. I wish you the best of luck with your decision, Titus,” and with that, Tarpeia turned to leave, signaling to her guards that her business was done.


~***~


The hug took the wind out of him, though he had expected it, and even returned it. Castor smiled to show he was feeling a bit better, even if he wasn’t fully good.


That couldn’t be expected, though. “Yes, I am at that,” he acknowledged. There was a couch, and so Castor took a seat upon it, holding onto that little smile as he said, “Just a bit lemon water right now, that would be wonderful.” Crisp and refreshing. He wasn’t yet ready to indulge in the texture of wine, the velvety feel of it down his throat was not appealing at all.