Marcus Barbatius

Plebeian

Content Count
110
Last visited
April 5
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

Topics I Participated In

A Game of Chance

Started by Lucius Sempronius Atratinus · December 27, 2020

December 19th, 75AD
The fact that gambling was banned during the year unless on the festival days proscribed in law baffled Lucius. He supposed he understood it - if he really dredged his mind - from a practical perspective in that it caused no end of temper tantrums amongst the sore losers and those caught cheating, enough drama to entice further violence, but surely the Senate or the Emperor didn't need to legislate to prevent against such inane fighting? Ridiculous, and another facet of life in the city that was too rigorously controlled.
The ability to gamble during Saturnalia - as far as he could see it - was one of the festivals only benefits and as he sat at one of the outdoor seats, throwing his dice in the Game of Twelve1 he was currently enjoying, he managed a rare, rueful smile. He'd not really celebrated the previous two nights, aside from ordering his half-sister and son to prepare some meagre meal for the slaves on the first night. He'd shuttered himself away in his room for the rest of the evening and let them have their fun, whilst he stewed in his own melancholy. When all was said and done, he was rather proud he'd only yelled at them to be quiet once or twice throughout the evening.
As he cast his final throw and manoeuvred his piece in the dim light, his smile grew and his opponent - some portly equite man (judging by the gaudy clothes) through down the money Lucius was owed in a huff, before storming off into the dark of the evening, overturning his chair in the process. Lucius only smirked and gestured for a slave girl to right the fallen article with a flick of his wrist. Nobody knew him here, which is why he liked it. The Forum was packed with the festivities and he blended in as just another upper-class man on an evening jaunt. He was dressed finely, as befit his station, but in the shadowy corner of the Forum - with only the flicker of oil lamps and torches, he felt fairly discrete. It's why he'd risked a turn on the table (and won, he hastened to add in his thoughts).
Picking up his cup of wine, he reclined in his seat, in no hurry to find another opponent for a third match. Instead he let his green eyes wander over the forms of the people congregating in the square. Gods most of them were vile; plastered drunk, sweaty and stumbling even in the dead of December. He swallowed the sneer he wanted to affect as he took another sip of wine.

TAG: Open!
1The 'Game of Twelve' or Ludus duodecim scriptorum
See This One Shine

Started by Marcus Barbatius · November 17, 2020

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 (M-V)

Started by Lucia Safinia · November 1, 2020

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, 2020

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, 2020

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, 2020

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, 2020

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, 2020

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, 2020

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