"I dedicate this to you, my peers who sit with the Senex, for your enjoyment and edification..."
He looks like a florid bag of blood. His cloaks are always fine, gaudy things, dyed in expensive colours and decorated with tassels and gold thread. Rings encrust chubby, squishy, fingers like the scales on the claws of some sleepy, overweight lizard. His toga sits over tightly fitting breeches and a patterned tunic. He’s a dandy and a popinjay and every single item he wears costs alone more than a soldier’s annual wage. Wealth, however, doesn’t guarantee good taste and Kindred with a sense of style find that his wealth only enhances his vulgarity.
Apparent Age: Early 40’s
He wears too much gold, too much perfume. Macellarius is sublimely cultured, but he doesn’t have class. He isn’t noble-born and he knows deep within that no amount of money, learning or literary skill can change it. He’s a Julian, but not a Julian. His dress is flashy rather than stylish; his manners might be fashionable, but they aren’t really patrician. And it’s a really sore point. The one way to guarantee Macellarius’ wrath is to mention it.
He looks like he should be clumsy and slow, and certainly he never seems to move very far or very fast and yet it’s possible to turn away from him, just for a moment, only to find him on the other side of the hall, or far across the forum, or standing nearby when he was a hundred yards away.
- His territory includes the Circus Maximus.
- He is married to and the sire of Valentina.
- He places little or no value on mortal life.