(no subject)
WHO: Atia/Harry.
WHAT: After a shitload of inhale-able drugs and telling the dealers to consult her warden to pay for them, Atia's been tracked down and offered to go for a friendly evening of drinks. WHERE WILL IT LEAD?
WHERE: Somewhere!
WHEN: The evening.
WARNINGS: The scene involves Atia and therefore could include inventive swearing, horror and mild world domination.
Purchasing as many goods as you could carry, would make for a rather stressful time at port. Even a relaxing one.
Getting your warden to hire carts and people to take them to a pre-arranged location, however, was an obvious solution to a patrician like Atia... She could obtain everything desired from that man, Prefect and go into ship-based business for herself. Atia's idea of criminal enterprise might yet be seen to fruition!
Not that she told her warden anything of the kind, of course. She said it was all for her and, well, he was probably a little preoccupied with how she had effectively set a drug-dealer onto him... Still, all was well.
Probably.
Atia greeted him with a perfunctory smile when he tracked her down, with the attempt to reason with her over drinks, being something even an ancient Roman recognised as a worthy endeavour. So, waiting for what she presumed would be Harry's order of wine, Atia looked over with a bored expression at someone staring at her Roman attire.
And staring.
And staring...
"Yes, it's authentic! My son does run the fucking empire, you know."
WHAT: After a shitload of inhale-able drugs and telling the dealers to consult her warden to pay for them, Atia's been tracked down and offered to go for a friendly evening of drinks. WHERE WILL IT LEAD?
WHERE: Somewhere!
WHEN: The evening.
WARNINGS: The scene involves Atia and therefore could include inventive swearing, horror and mild world domination.
Purchasing as many goods as you could carry, would make for a rather stressful time at port. Even a relaxing one.
Getting your warden to hire carts and people to take them to a pre-arranged location, however, was an obvious solution to a patrician like Atia... She could obtain everything desired from that man, Prefect and go into ship-based business for herself. Atia's idea of criminal enterprise might yet be seen to fruition!
Not that she told her warden anything of the kind, of course. She said it was all for her and, well, he was probably a little preoccupied with how she had effectively set a drug-dealer onto him... Still, all was well.
Probably.
Atia greeted him with a perfunctory smile when he tracked her down, with the attempt to reason with her over drinks, being something even an ancient Roman recognised as a worthy endeavour. So, waiting for what she presumed would be Harry's order of wine, Atia looked over with a bored expression at someone staring at her Roman attire.
And staring.
And staring...
"Yes, it's authentic! My son does run the fucking empire, you know."