DragonDreamer’s
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(group member since Mar 24, 2020)
DragonDreamer’s
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from the ᗪEᐯOᒪᑌTIOᑎ -A Semi-Advanced RP group.
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Cyrus lives in a luxurious, modern penthouse complete with a pool, bar, and plenty of space. His living room has a fireplace and a wide floor space. There's a guest bedroom upstairs and a couple of bathrooms. It's a lot of space for a guy who lives alone, which is why he enjoys excuses to host parties and get-togethers from time to time. But if anyone disrespects his space, the party stops.



The shop has a large main room with an abundance of plants and seed racks. The counter is at the back of the shop in front of a storage room and a staircase that leads up to a loft area where Hugh lives. The outside isn't much to look at, but it's sturdy.





El's mouth was dry and foul tasting. Her stomach churned in an uncomfortable, yet familiar way and she headed to the bathroom to start her hangover ritual. She showered in scalding hot water and brushed her teeth. When she'd finished, she scoped the clothes her company had left lying around for something clean enough to wear, settling on a dress that definitely wasn't what she had worn there, but it was cute enough and seemed more comfortable than the pants she'd worn. She grabbed her phone, purse, and left. She had the concierge order her a taxi back to her apartment. She needed to eat and sleep the rest of the day away, classes be damned. She'd make them up later in time for the tests anyways.
A ding chimed on her phone with an update from EvrTech. El raised a brow. A party? she smirked. She tapped on the driver's shoulder. "Excuse me, I changed my mind. I need to go somewhere else."

"Please come back, the guests will be arriving within the next hour." Mrs. Fairfax had cried. Marianne could hardly bring herself to care as she was tired from a full day's work and still had to run to the grocery store to make dinner for her brother and herself. And she was about to say so when the magic words came:
"I'll pay you extra for your trouble."
And just like that, all of Mari's arguments crumbled in her throat. She knew she couldn't afford to lose extra pay when it was offered. She'd barely scraped by on the medical bills from the last time she got sick. She hadn't wanted to go to the hospital, but her brother didn't exactly give her the option. They lost money on the treatment and her time off from work.
So she had no choice but to return to scrub at a frustratingly dark red wine stain while her employers bustled around her. Mari wasn't looking forward to cleaning up after the party tomorrow either. What would she care about some tech company launch?
