Marco's Apartment

[Marco]

Continued from: The Gym.


After showering and dressing himself appropriately for work - in dark, but loose pants and shirt, with hardy boots - he dug through his cabinets, finding his options limited. He'd downed half a soda already during his search, remembering he hadn't eaten since lunch, which probably hadn't been the best idea.

Checking the clock on the wall, he saw his shift started in an hour. Briefly, he entertained the notion of heading to Billie's place, and checking wheter or not she was working that night as well. He thought, perhaps, that he remembered seeing her name on the list in the staff room at the club, but he would be damned if he could remember for sure. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he simply sent her a message with an inquiry, telling her he would be grabbing some takeout on the way to the club if she wanted to join him. It was a meagre offer at best, but it would make sitting in the dimly lit back-room more bearable to have some company at least.

With that, he finished his soda, grabbed his jacket and keys, and headed out of the apartment.


Continued at: The Onyx; Staff Room.

[Marco]

His age and control were two factors that went hand in hand to keeping him ‘human’ on the nights of the full moon. That, and the fact that he avoided raucous venues, and work, for that matter. Certainly, his boss at Onyx had looked at him strangely when he’d said he needed those particular nights off every month, but he’d covered it for a ‘family thing’… or was it a ‘religious thing’?

Marco couldn’t quite remember. Either way, it had, thankfully, been permitted, so there he sat in his apartment, listening to the radio; some random station he’d apparently left it on after a shift one night.

Taking his eyes from the sky as he stood at the window, pulling back the drapes in order to see the progress of the moon’s rising, he pulled a face at the presenter. Rolling his eyes as the man jabbered on about legends — the subject matter was painfully predictable, at best — Marco flat-out groaned when the DJ let out an all-too-false howl.

“Humans…” he mumbled with a sigh somewhere between disappointment and amusement.

[Marco]

He hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night, but that was to be expected. Even a wolf of Marco’s age had a rough time getting any relaxation, let alone peaceful rest. He was slouched on his sofa, staring at the TV, even though it wasn’t even on. Early morning television was hardly entertaining, and it wouldn’t exactly help him to take his mind off the exhaustion he felt.

If you’re tired, there’s an obvious answer here. Sighing, he pulled himself up from the dent he’d made in the couch, and trudged through to his bedroom, fairly collapsing on the padded mattress, and promptly falling asleep.

[Marco]

Another day of the moon’s powerful cycle, and another day off for the large werewolf. He stood at his window yet again, staring out with wise eyes at the looming city with its tall buildings and bustling nightlife. His arms were crossed over his broad chest as he listened to the buzz of vehicles from the streets below, and beyond his field of vision, around corners and past structures.

Marco contemplated going down to the gym, if only to stretch his legs. Mercilessly pounding the heavy punching bag would give his contained wolf some kind of outlet, at least, and he supposed that would be better than nothing…


Continued in: The Hallway.

[Marco]

As the water poured down over him, he took in and released a refreshing, deep breath, eyes closed as the steam from the shower clouded the cubicle in his bathroom.

Dinner the previous night had been… interesting, to say the least. The other werewolf had been nervous for most of the evening, only talking now and again, and Gemma, as usual, had been slightly hesitant but chatty when engaged. Marco wasn’t displeased with how it had gone, but the other wolf seemed… troubled. He found himself mildly curious, but knew better than to ask.

The third day of the moon had started, which meant that tomorrow, he would be back at work. He sighed, tilting his face up into the flow. He would have to ensure he did absolutely nothing all day in order to prepare himself for the madness of The Onyx when he worked the next day.

[Marco]

“Marco? Darlin’, it’s Billie, and I need a favour. I’m stuck in rehearsal with the jazz Nazi and it doesn’t look like I’m leavin’ any time soon. Could you bring me lunch later?”

“Ferguson!”

“MarcoI’llloveyouforeverbye!”

The message that had been waiting for him after he got back from a morning workout in the gym was surprising, but still made him chuckle. While he didn’t like to leave his apartment, generally, on the days of the moon’s peak, he was all for helping a friend; he wasn’t sure he had it in him to not help a friend like Billie. He had encountered ‘the jazz Nazi’ before himself, and sympathised, even; the woman had taken to barking orders at Marco like he was a hired butler, which he hadn’t enjoyed. He wasn’t all that enthusiastic about encountering her again, but he couldn’t very well have Billie not eating while she was rehearsing. She didn’t have a wolf’s endurance, after all.

After a brief detour to his bedroom to change and then to the bathroom to freshen up a little after his workout, he grabbed his wallet and keys, and headed out.


Continued at: The Onyx; Club Interior.