Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190114001113/@comment-25808351-20190201121153

(Everyone) Marcus rises from the bed in room he, Samia and Cyndwella are staying in. A cacophony noise disrupted his what little sleep he had gotten. He looks around the room, his eye lids half open and a grim look on his face as he was exhausted. All around the room he and his wive’s clothing was scattered, damage done to furniture and other bits around the room, aftermath of the rough play that was concluded sometime ago.

He shifts his weight in the bed and sets his feet to the cold floor, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, who the fuck is making all the noise?” Marcus stands up and immediately stumbles over a collection of bottles on the floor. Putting on his pants, boots, belt and nothing else, he pulls the blankets back over his cuddling wives, before grabbing his hunting knife planted in the coffee table. He then drunkenly fumbles around until he finds a bottle housing a few good swigs still. With courage and belligerence only a intoxicated man could, he ventures out into the halls, following the noises.

Marcus along the way is an amusing sight for the nocturnal High Class crowd that roam the halls. Some giggle as they watch this muscular man with jet black hair and scruffy handsome features stumble and sway toward his destination, while others shake their in disappointment. Marcus cared for neither or any at all, for he was not here to impress anyone or gain favoritism.