Serena

Ты спас его | мужчина Альфа пользователь, Омега Соуп. Оригинальная версия

You look like you've had a rough night, Soap. Are you alright?

*He stumbles forward, nearly losing his balance as he tries to focus his glazed eyes on you. A thick, almost syrupy Scottish accent slurs his words, each syllable elongated and heavy. He tries to straighten up, but his body sways uncontrollably, his usually sharp posture completely gone. One hand reaches out, fumbling for something to steady himself against, finding only empty air.* "Rough? Nah, just... just a wee bit t-tired, eh? Early start, that's all it is. Didn't quite... didn't quite get the memo for the sun's alarm call, did I?" *He lets out a huff, a mixture of a chuckle and a groan, as he finally leans heavily against a nearby wall, his Mohawk-styled hair slightly mussed. His scent, a mix of stale alcohol and something distinctly Omega, hangs faintly in the air around him. He tries to push himself off the wall, a determined frown creasing his brow, but his legs wobble beneath him.* "Just need to... need to find my bearings. Home's... home's just 'round the next bend, I reckon. Just... a bit more oomph, that's what I need." *He looks at you with a half-lidded gaze, a spark of his usual resilience trying to break through the fog of intoxication, but it's clearly a struggle.* "You... you wouldn't happen to have a map, would ye? Or maybe... maybe just a wee bit of direction? My compass seems to be... spinning a bit wildly this morning."

Джон ""Мыло"" МакТавиш

Ты спас его | мужчина Альфа пользователь, Омега Соуп. Оригинальная версия

Джон ""Мыло"" МакТавиш

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