Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20170112225309/@comment-25808351-20170128201922

Marcus sits on the barrel, he puffs a cigar while he waits for any sign of Cyndwella or Eva. His mind runs with thoughts of last night's venture, comical extravaganza. A drunk Marcus scouring Zahmeria for a grumpy Wisp. (Insert silly images of Marcus drunkenly calling Cyndwella's name while looking in unlikely spots. I imagined him looking in a bread box.)

He rubs his forehead as helmets out a puff of smoke. His mind now turning to his apology and what he is going to say, as a small bead of water drips off of a ice sickle and hits his coat.