His chin in hand, elbow on the table, idly scratching his wet hair with the scribing end of a stylus, while affecting a twelve foot stare in a ten foot room. Scattered about are half unrolled books on Roman legislation, jurisprudence, and notes on recent events. Drops of water fill the grooves of the notes filling his wax tablet.

With some resolve, he puts down the stylus and fingers the remains of the broken seal on his Quaestorial appointment to the offices of Catulus Aemilius Albinus, Princeps Senatus. His mind mulls business opportunities, new duties, and the state of public affairs in Rome. In succession: knitted brows, then a smile. He motions to a clerk to roll up the books. "I believe I'm ready for business. Bring a basket for these books, if you'd be so kind."

On his way out, he passes the palaestra, and reflexively rubs a sore hamstring. "I should make more effort to warm up next time..."