Marcus Barbatius

Plebeian

Content Count
92
Last visited
November 28
Player
Atrice

About Marcus Barbatius

Barber of Rome

Custom Fields

Face Claim
Jonathan Rhys Meyers
Location
Rome

Quote

The blood is the life. It leaves you, you die...
Face Claim

Jonathan Rhys Meyers
Location

Rome

Recent Posts

Sunset

November 28

Barbatius took his time to work with his bag, or pretend to do so while he fished out a properly sized razor for the deed he planned to do. He would just hurt her a little. Cut her. Make her understand how you should treat those better ranked and wealthier than yourself. She didn’t matter to anyone in Rome and so she had no rights to tell him what to do. Or to make assumptions about him. Or to threaten him! He would make her see this. While he harmed her. It was surprising no one could hear his heart, the way it was pounding when he finally made his agenda known to her.
She was surprised. She stared at him with panic written in her eyes and he could not help but take some pleasure from her being so startled. She didn’t see this coming. She didn’t think he’d do anything at all. Just showed her to never assume anything about anyone she didn’t know! She stared at him, he told her to not talk or scream or anything and she seemed to understand. She blinked, as he instructed her.
Then she whispered a few petty words.
“I know you’re not sorry. You think you’re something but you’re nothing.” Marcus hissed close to her face, trying to stay calm, but now the razor was at her throat, he wanted to cut through her skin so badly… “Now… we’ll walk around behind these sacks and barrels. Don’t try anything.” He said and nodded sideways, gesturing for her to move and he would move with her. Not at one point would he remove the razor from the proximity of her skin.
@Liv
See This One Shine

November 17

Early November, 75 AD
Today was just yet another ordinary day in the life of Marcus Barbatius, one of countless professional barbers in Rome. Some just had their shops in the street, but Marcus had his very own shop and insula just above it. Quite a nice insula too. One bedroom for himself, another for all the slaves, a small cooking area, a tablinum and a triclinium. And a few spare rooms for storage and other things. Then there was the shop. Large enough to hold a chair for clients in the middle of the room and shelves and tables and many little pots and flasks with salves and oils and everything else he needed for the business.
And then the box with all the knives and razors in it. The key hung steadily around his neck and Aculia would have to ask, if she needed a knife to cook with. He once had a slave cut his own throat, which he had absolutely no right to, so Marcus had to keep the knives locked up at all times, so it would not happen again. The slaves were his property. They had no right to take their own lives while he was their master.
But luckily, that was already years ago and life went on. Even with what he did recently, to that girl. Yet that was also in the past now and all he had was the lingering memory of her and her blood. He was thinking about that when he opened the shop this morning, which put him in a good mood and he was even whistling when he opened the door.
His head slave or favorite slave, Manus, was already busy getting the shop ready for the first client. Now all they had to do was wait for someone to walk in the door.
@Sains
Sunset

November 14

The girl apparently still didn’t trust him and now that he told her he preferred gladiator games to races, she wondered who his favorite was, “I don’t have one. They’re all going to die. They’re just slaves. Who they are does not matter to me.” It was more what they did. And some of them were very good with their swords and spears but again, then it was the swords and the spears that mattered and not who they were. He could not fancy a slave or call a slave a favorite! They were the lowest of low and the gladiators were practically dead meat walking. He wrinkled his nose by the thought.
As they kept walking, he pointed out she should not want to run from him, why would she need to? And she chuckled strangely and smiled, speaking of fetching a cook to punish him, “That sounds very much like a threat. It’s not nice to threaten someone trying to help you.” Marcus said and then he made up an excuse to stop by some barrels and sacks stacked by a building. She came with another of her nasty remarks, but she agreed to stop to rest. Marcus turned away from her, pretending to adjust his bag, while also glancing up and down the street. It was somewhat empty right here. Dusk was settling slowly. But fuck that, really. She wanted his help yet she was threatening him. And speaking down to him, giving him orders. That was not her place. She did not hold any power over him. And she’d soon understand that. Very soon. He opened the bag to put the small knife into it and fished up a larger razor instead. It glistened as the light touched it in the dark bag and he smiled.
After he picked up the razor, he set down the bag, still turned away from her. Only when he’d set down the bag he turned towards her and before she knew it, he’d be up close and personal with her and his razor was at her throat while he tried to focus on looking her straight in the eyes, “You should not order strangers around or threaten them.” He hissed at her, “If you scream, talk or try anything, I will hurt you badly. Blink if you understand."
@Liv
Sunset

November 7

She really wasn’t a nice girl and she didn’t know her place. And she tried to give him orders and apparently now she didn’t trust him, although he’d done nothing towards her (that she knew) to prove himself untrustworthy. She was just a stupid girl who had to learn a lesson about life. And how to treat others. Marcus would teach her a lesson she would remember until the day she died. Every time she looked at the scar, she would remember. Just like Aculia remembered all her wrongdoings. And just like so many others.
The girl now still claimed he was a spy, “I don’t know about what spies say.” Marcus simply said and she wondered why he didn’t like the races, “I prefer people who fight. With sharp weapons. I prefer gladiator games, if anything. They’re much more… exciting, to me.” Marcus explained to her and told her to lead the way. She tried to joke about running away and he smiled slightly. Dusk was slowly settling and darkness was creeping out from shadows and corners. His hand curled around the hilt of the knife. Just the thought of cutting her made his fingers tingle. It would have to be soon.
“Why should you run? I don’t see why.” Marcus asked her then and spied a stack of barrels in front of a building. That would be a good spot. He inhaled a breath, his heart was pounding so hard. He almost felt as if his head was throbbing too. In just a few moments, they’d be at the right spot. He had his excuse ready, “Can we stop a moment? I need to adjust this a bit better.” He gestured to the bag he had over his shoulder and he slowly came to a stop next to the barrels, briefly giving them a glance. As he guessed, there was a narrow space behind them. Just enough.
@Liv
Sunset

November 7

He had experience with being told what to do – but he didn’t like it much when it came from someone lower ranked than he. If a mighty fine Senator told him what he liked and preferred and what he’d like for Marcus to do for him, sure, he would be fine. But a young, poor Plebian girl who worked for the stables and even had a limp? No, he didn’t like that at all. She had no right to. He was her senior by many years and she should just stop. But she didn’t, she just looked at him strangely and he had then continued to be pretend to be his most kind self. Offering her help and even money. She’d get neither – although she would get something shiny.
He would make her understand to not toy with people like Marcus. She would learn it. And it would be beautiful. She agreed to his idea and claimed he’d be in trouble if he did not fix the accident somehow. And then she told him to come with him.
“I’m glad we came to an agreement.” Marcus simply said, following a step behind her slow limp. She knew the way, she could walk first. It made sense. Then she suddenly stopped and suggested he was a spy. Marcus gave her a look, as if she was saying something stupid. Something that made no sense to him at all, “I guess you can’t. But I don’t care about the races. They don’t interest me much at all. I prefer other kinds of public entertainment.” Which was true. The races just didn't produce enough blood. Sometimes there was, but he just liked the way it was produced by gladiator games better. Marcus gestured with his free hand for her to continue then. In the other hand, he held the blade against his palm and wrist and he also used that hand to keep his own back secure, “Please… lead the way, girl.” Knowing she didn’t move so fast, he kept a sharp eye for any place he could drag her to on the way. There was still a bit of way to go.
@Liv
Sunset

November 4

Marcus knew he had to be careful in these matters. At least when they were still out in the open. The conversation could be nothing but proper for both of them, or at least for him, because then there’d be no one to question his words at least. The girl though, she was questionable! She just stared at him, while he examined the broken sack and then she told him she was on her way to the White stables. Racing. Marcus never cared much for it. Sometimes he enjoyed the gladiator games, for his own reasons of course. Well anyone enjoyed the carnage in the arena. But maybe Marcus enjoyed it differently than the rest. He knew he was different. And he’d learned to hide it and control, to a certain extent of course.
Like right now, he was controlling it just fine. The girl kept talking, saying her living close to here didn’t help him pick them up. Marcus looked at her, surprised. Was she giving him orders? No, she wasn’t. She was just assuming that’s what he would do. As if she was in any position to tell him what to do or assume he would just follow her lead. He’d been good to her so far. Now she tried to make him pity her, with her limp.
“We still have nothing to carry the turnips in.” Marcus replied, trying hard to not express his dislike for her ordering him about. She shouldn’t do that. She had no right to. She was beneath him, he was sure. Poorer than him, younger than him and even a female. He doubted she’d understand that though, with her attitude. Marcus had ways to make people understand though… but he had to get her somewhere more quiet first. There had to be someplace near the stables… “You don’t live far from here… why don’t we go there and get a new sack, and I’ll walk back and pick them up for you?” He suggested, “Then you’ll have me both picking them up and carrying them for you. Come, we better hurry, so no one else takes them in the meantime. Else, I guess I'll have to compensate your loss.” Marcus said and gestured for her to lead the way.
@Liv
Sunset

November 3

He didn’t know why she had stopped, but was pleased when she kept on moving and clearly had not seen him. Marcus could then make his move and he did it with skill, almost as if he had done something similar before, and who knew, maybe he had? She didn’t notice that he was the reason why the sack of turnips suddenly split and they all tumbled to the ground. Other than that he bumped into her of course, but she was more occupied with watching the turnips than with wondering how it happened. Marcus had easily hid the blade again while he exclaimed his apology to her.
She glared angrily at him after a few moments and then she simply handed the sack towards him, saying he should help her pick them all up again. What right had she to tell him what to do? She was just a girl. He saw no collar, so she was no slave. But she was still just a girl. She meant nothing to him besides what was inside of her.
But Marcus took the sack and held it up, examined it, “This is not going to hold any turnips for you. It’s ripped too much.” Marcus said and seemed thoughtful. He still had his own bag over his shoulder, but it was heavy with oils and salves and blades and tools. Besides, there was no way she was getting his bag. That wasn’t the point of him stopping her. He wasn’t here to help her… “I’d lend you my bag, but then I’d have nothing to carry my items in. Do you live far from here?”
@Liv
Sunset

November 1

It had been a while, since he’d done anything other people would consider bad. He had actually been pretty good lately. Aculia might disagree and Tinus too, but they were just slaves, so that didn’t count. Germanus was no longer a part of the household staff. He’d bled beautifully and he had given Marcus some release too, but in the end, the German slave with the very broken Latin was just too wild and fierce. And not in a good way. And like any good property owner, when a tool did not work and was unmendable, you had to get rid of it. So he did.
But besides all that, he’d been his most friendly and charming self to other people! He had made quite a good profit and he would soon be able to buy himself a new slave from the market, so that Tinus and Aculia didn’t have to do all of the cleaning, shopping and cooking by themselves. Manus had enough to do with being head slave, helping Marcus in the shop and helping with paperwork and so on. Really everything felt quite ordinary lately. But winter was coming, days grew darker and colder, slowly... and Marcus was feeling the itch. Aculia and Tinus were not enough. He had to keep them, they were good. He had to find another to take the itch out upon.
And so it happened this afternoon, while he was on his way home from yet another private shaving in an Equite household, that he saw her. A young woman with a limp, carrying a huge sack of something on her back. The way the light fell on her skin was stunning. Especially because she appeared to be so skinny, yet not delicate. But her skin was thin. Almost as if it clung to her. Like clothing on a Greek statue. Marcus had his own bag over his shoulder, with the supplies for shaving people, including his blades. Somehow he ended up following the young woman, well she was barely a woman, more a girl really and she didn’t look like much.
Suddenly she stood still. Looking over her shoulders, as if she was afraid she would be seen. What had she done? Was she someone society would shun for some reason, if they knew what she had done? Had he spotted someone who did horrible things? Maybe she had done horrible things and she was afraid someone would find out. But Marcus saw her now. He had to ask her. Had to question her. And he knew how to force her to stay put.
Marcus rounded the corner so she would be able to see him and walked down the street, not as if he walked towards her, but rather that he was just another bystander, just walking by. But he had a blade hidden against the palm of his hand. And he pretended to look at something on the other side of the street as he passed her, so by accident, he’d walk too close to her and look at that, he almost walked into her and hit her sack and his blade cut a tear in her sack. And the turnips fell out. Marcus stopped, “Oh! apologies!”
@Liv
Vampires in Rome

October 18

He had followed the young woman a while now. She had long, dark hair and very fair skin. She couldn’t be more than twenty years old. Some said age mattered, but not to him. Marcus actually preferred his victims to be young and fresh, untainted, and that’s what he had deemed this one to be. She turned around a corner into a quieter street and that’s when Marcus chose to approach her. He hurried up, caught up with her fast before she could run. Then he stood right behind her, “Greetings…” He said and she stumbled because he naturally startled her. He smiled while she fell onto her knees and he was right behind her, enjoying her surprise and her fear. She'd scraped her knees. He could smell the blood and his fangs came out.
“What do you want from me?” She asked, while he grasped her by the hair and pulled her to her feet and closer to his own body. So warm! He could smell her fear! “I’ll scream!” She threatened him then and Marcus shook his head. Some victims just didn't get it.
“No you won’t. All I want… is your blood.” And then he pulled her close and placed his arm over her throat so she could barely breathe and definitely not scream. She struggled, but she was skinnier than he, smaller than he... although he kind of liked her struggle. He dragged her with him into the nearest dark alley, where he pinned her to the wall with her front first, moved the hair away from her throat and bit into it from behind. She kept squirming, he had to hold on tight. But only for a little while longer. The blood was lovely and warm, it was everything he needed. Then she stopped and Marcus let go, let the corpse of the young woman drop to the ground like a puppet.
Blood dripped down from his chin and he leaned against the wall, feeling satisfied and good. That’s when someone else turned down the same alley. Where there now lay a corpse and where Marcus stood. He froze, hoping the stranger had not seen him.
Just Close Your Eyes; The Sun is Going Down

September 21

She said nothing to him now. But she was daring and bold and perhaps too much. Deianira was staring right into his eyes and he knew that look. Not that her opinion of him mattered to him very much. In fact it didn't matter at all. She was a slave and a whore, the lowest of low, even at the Elysium. If she died, no one would miss her and she would be replaced. Her opinion mattered to precisely no one - as long as she kept her mouth shut and didn't tell anyone about him. If she did, her opinion mattered so much she might be risking her life for it.
He let go of her wrist and she jerked her hand away, massaged the wrist. She'd definitely get a bruise there. Blood coming towards the surface of the skin where you'd pressed too hard. Marcus knew all about it. He stood there, watching her, but she dressed herself without another word and picked the amphora she carried, up again. She did not walk away though. She knew it would be stupid to turn your back on this man on purpose.
"You can go." Marcus said, at least pleased with her finally acting like a proper slave. And then he waited for her to leave. But it was clear to him, that he was not done with her at all.
@Echo

Topics I Participated In

See This One Shine

Started by Marcus Barbatius · November 17

Early November, 75 AD
Today was just yet another ordinary day in the life of Marcus Barbatius, one of countless professional barbers in Rome. Some just had their shops in the street, but Marcus had his very own shop and insula just above it. Quite a nice insula too. One bedroom for himself, another for all the slaves, a small cooking area, a tablinum and a triclinium. And a few spare rooms for storage and other things. Then there was the shop. Large enough to hold a chair for clients in the middle of the room and shelves and tables and many little pots and flasks with salves and oils and everything else he needed for the business.
And then the box with all the knives and razors in it. The key hung steadily around his neck and Aculia would have to ask, if she needed a knife to cook with. He once had a slave cut his own throat, which he had absolutely no right to, so Marcus had to keep the knives locked up at all times, so it would not happen again. The slaves were his property. They had no right to take their own lives while he was their master.
But luckily, that was already years ago and life went on. Even with what he did recently, to that girl. Yet that was also in the past now and all he had was the lingering memory of her and her blood. He was thinking about that when he opened the shop this morning, which put him in a good mood and he was even whistling when he opened the door.
His head slave or favorite slave, Manus, was already busy getting the shop ready for the first client. Now all they had to do was wait for someone to walk in the door.
@Sains
Sunset

Started by Lucia Safinia · November 1

Late October, 75 AD - near the White stables
The sun had already disappeared behind the horizon, and only a few remnants of its light tinted the sky with streaks of lighter blue among the growing darkness. Nightfall meant most well-meaning inhabitants of Rome retreated back into their abodes, and Safinia, on her way from the market, was about to join them in doing just that.
The sack on her back was heavy with turnips and delayed her already slow pace, but if she got the vegetables to the kitchens today then she wouldn't have to venture out in the middle of the day tomorrow, when the crowds were greatest and their patience least for someone standing in their busy path like her.
Another couple of minutes and she would reach the stables, but a curious sensation that Safinia wasn't able to shake off had persisted for a little while now - although whether said while was a minute or thirty she could not say. It was almost as if somebody was watching her very intensely... A pickpocket assessing his next victim, perhaps? She would be an easy one, unable to run away, but unless they wanted to make off with a sack of turnips she had nothing worth stealing on her.
The feeling grew more and more intense until Safinia felt the urge to stop. Standing a little to the side, she looked over both shoulders, but saw nothing through the sack-obstructed view that could explain the odd inkling. Maybe she was just tired and hungry. Yes, that had to be it.
@Atrice
Vampires in Rome

Started by Marcus Barbatius · October 18

He had followed the young woman a while now. She had long, dark hair and very fair skin. She couldn’t be more than twenty years old. Some said age mattered, but not to him. Marcus actually preferred his victims to be young and fresh, untainted, and that’s what he had deemed this one to be. She turned around a corner into a quieter street and that’s when Marcus chose to approach her. He hurried up, caught up with her fast before she could run. Then he stood right behind her, “Greetings…” He said and she stumbled because he naturally startled her. He smiled while she fell onto her knees and he was right behind her, enjoying her surprise and her fear. She'd scraped her knees. He could smell the blood and his fangs came out.
“What do you want from me?” She asked, while he grasped her by the hair and pulled her to her feet and closer to his own body. So warm! He could smell her fear! “I’ll scream!” She threatened him then and Marcus shook his head. Some victims just didn't get it.
“No you won’t. All I want… is your blood.” And then he pulled her close and placed his arm over her throat so she could barely breathe and definitely not scream. She struggled, but she was skinnier than he, smaller than he... although he kind of liked her struggle. He dragged her with him into the nearest dark alley, where he pinned her to the wall with her front first, moved the hair away from her throat and bit into it from behind. She kept squirming, he had to hold on tight. But only for a little while longer. The blood was lovely and warm, it was everything he needed. Then she stopped and Marcus let go, let the corpse of the young woman drop to the ground like a puppet.
Blood dripped down from his chin and he leaned against the wall, feeling satisfied and good. That’s when someone else turned down the same alley. Where there now lay a corpse and where Marcus stood. He froze, hoping the stranger had not seen him.
Just Close Your Eyes; The Sun is Going Down

Started by Echo · August 23

July 75CE
It was a rather dreary day in Rome, and the clouds sat heavily in the sky, promising rain later and blocking the sun from shining through. Citizens went on their way, mingling with slaves as they moved from task to task. Deianira had been given a few errands to run - as a part of the Elysium, it wasn't enough that she devoted her every night to serving the men of the city. She had to earn her keep in other ways, such as the errands she was running now. She had already made a few purchases, including an amphora of the cheap wine served to the workers which had been running low.
As she was a diligent worker and quick, she had a few more minutes before she had to return to the brothel, and she intended to take advantage of it. She had wandered off a little further than she had meant to, and she was without a guard, though she didn't dare run off. Her master's wrath would be immeasurable if she ran off and he found her. She had decided to take the long way around to see what she could find. She walked through the crowd, gazing around her, pleased to be away from the brothel for once. But an icy chill ran through her as she recognized a face in the crowd. Marcus Barbatius.
Stunned at first, she gathered herself and began walking away as quickly as she could, begging the gods to spare her meeting him outside of the brothel, too. She only hoped she hadn't been seen.
@Atrice
One Night in Rome (M - V)

Started by Atrice · August 19

August, 75 AD
It was dark out. Late and dark. Marcus had been out for a special event, a nobleman had desired a shaving and it had to be Marcus and it had to be at this hour. Why, no one knew. But Marcus was not one to say no to such a job, not when it paid so well and ensured the man would use his services another time too. Now was the time however to return to his home and his slaves. Marcus had a bag over his shoulder, with all the important shaving equipment. He’d brought no slaves with him, the nobleman had his own, after all.
He cast a glance at the Elysium as he passed it. He had a friend there and a whore he thought he might return to sometime. Not because he liked her or anything, but because she’d bled in such a lovely way and it had felt so good to finish in her afterwards. But not tonight. Tonight he might have Aculia, with the pretty new scar on her face, proving that she was never to fail him again.
Marcus decided to use a shortcut down a darker alley nearby. He heard someone walking behind him then and the footsteps were coming closer. Oh really? Marcus smirked to himself, reaching for the small blade in his purse and it was about time, because moments later, there was a hand on his shoulder.
Though before the stranger could beat him up or try and steal his bag, which was what he assumed they would do, Marcus had swung around and pinned them up against the nearest wall. He might not be huge and overly muscular, but he was fast and agile and he wasn't weak either. He held the blade to their throat, “And what exactly was your plan? You picked the wrong victim…”
Killer Queen (M: S & V)

Started by Echo · July 1

May, 75CE
To some, Titus Aspanius Lupus might seem like an overly cruel master. To Deianira, he was your run-of-the-mill brothel owner, no different than the owner of the brothel she'd been born in or the one she recently vacated. When the man had picked her up at the slave market in Rome, Deia had been at first curious to know what kind of man he was, but the establishment he ran was all she needed to know. Some of the other girls who'd been there longer wished they could work at the Domus Venus instead, because they were all sold so cheaply and Titus allowed men to do terrible things to them, as long as they paid. Deia understood where she was, but what could she do about it? All she could do was try and get by, keep her head down like at her old brothel, and perhaps someday be freed or escape somehow.
She had only been here a few weeks and was settling in, more or less. She had seen more customers than she thought was usual, but perhaps that was because she was new and men liked a new toy to play with. Tonight, she was moving around the brothel wearing a skimpy tunica that left little to the imagination. She had not been scooped up yet, so she was helping serve wine to men who were still deciding. She stopped before one such man with her amphora, pouring the wine carefully, lest any spill. "Welcome to the Elysium," she said in accented Latin, plastering a fake smile on her face. "I hope you can find what you are looking for."
@Atrice
Watch me reap the pain that I have sown (V)

Started by Beauty · February 3

TW: Violence!
Trying to teach Germanus a new word was like trying to drill a hole in marble with a fat, blunt thumb. And he spoke so loudly too, which only irritated Aculia and wave him off. He was a lost cause. But a woman could only cook quietly in a small kitchen for so long. She enjoyed any chance she got when out of the house and buying supplies in the markets. Remaining inside only made her feel more alienated from the world, unable to see Rome’s liveliness, and seeing only her master, tending to whatever needs he had, only made her see him most hours of the day and, thus, somehow see the human, not the monster.
Though she thought of escaping at times, it was better than freezing on streets and eating discarded foods from the dirty pathways just to live another day. She justified why she put up with it all. And just like most days, she was “confined” to the kitchen, chopping away at some tomatoes when, in her clouded thoughts, she hadn’t been paying attention and cut her thumb. The blood began to pool and she sucked at it before quickly finishing the small meal she’d prepared.
Setting the knife down and taking the plate, her thumb stinging all the while, she became nauseous as she softly tip-toed throughout the home to where her master was. He had worked a long day and was likely hungry, she hadn’t eaten yet. She wanted to make herself available. She had been in his service for a year, while she was subservient, which had never been in her nature before, she still found herself testing boundaries. If he became angry that she dared think of him before herself, at least, she knew.
She didn’t say a word, she just lingered by the door and waited until he noticed her hovering with a vacant look on her face, holding some food for him to eat. A peace offering that said she was more useful to him alive.
@Atrice
Here? Really?

Started by Sara · January 3

Mid-December, 74AD
Longinus cast a disapproving glance to Titus and muttered; "Here? Really?" It was not that Longinus was a snob, and the middle-class suburbs were nothing overtly offensive, but the man was trying all he could to get out of this particular activity. He wasn't even overly attached to his beard, or his hair (both of which had been dutifully trimmed a month or so ago), but he was reluctant to admit that his friends or mother were right. The man was stubborn to a fault.
Glancing at his friend again, he ran a hand over his beard for the (probably) the final time and sighed. "The things I do for women, eh?" He chuckled and moved to enter, but not before hesitating.
"This bloke's supposed to be good, isn't he? I mean, he's not going to cut open my throat, is he?" He arched a brow at his friend, but with an amused glimmer in his eye, "I can't have survived the battlefields of Britannia to die bleeding in a barbers chair..." He snorted in amusement but with a heavy sigh, swung the door and blinked into the dim light of the man's shop. He'd not routinely employed the services of a barber for the past few months, and much as he enjoyed the company of his body slave, he didn't trust Attis as far as he could throw him when it came to razors near his throat.
He coughed, to alert the man of his presence and rolled his eyes at Titus.

TAG: @Liv & @Atrice
Be Our Guuuuuessst

Started by Beauty · December 10, 2019

Blood mixed with water as Titus carefully rinsed his hands clean. Stepping away from the basin, he flicked his hands, spraying pellets, before a slave came running to him with a cloth to dry his hands.
“Stop your moaning,” said Titus as if someone else’s pain bore him, dabbing his hands gently with the cloth. “If he says he wants to fuck you with a club, you let him. So long as he pays me, you will spread your legs and let him do as he pleases.”
His fist spoke a thousand words, the woman wouldn’t displease another customer again. Titus was the heart of the place, his workers much like his veins and arteries, keeping the establishment’s blood pumping. Any faulty on his workers’ part was a faulty on his.
Without another word, he left the room into the greater brothel. The Elysium was alive, candle lights were flickering in its dark, winding corridors and the familiar sounds of desire sang through the air like travelling music. Soon, his eyes fell on a man. Titus’ hand fell and slapped the butt-cheek of a wandering prostitute, ordering her to gather a number men and women for display in one of the rooms.
Pacing towards the man with confidence, his lips upturned into a welcoming smile, the sides of his eyes crinkled in a joyful manner but his eyes were as empty as death itself. “Good evening,” he said, slapping two hands together. “What are you hoping for today? We have a number of girls and boys, young and fresh from past the Erytraen Sea, should that interest you. But, of course, you are welcome to choose your pick. I’ll have you know that we offer all kinds of services here at the Elysium, it’s the only place in Rome that allows your greatest, most wicked desires to come true.” And with that, he offered the man a wink. “And all for a decent price.”
@Atrice
The gif game

Started by Gothic · October 7, 2019

Basically reply with your character responding to the one above with a gif of their reaction to the person above.