[center][h3]Norway - Skiafjell Ski Lodge[/h3][/center]
[center][@Lugubrious][@Rune_Alchemist][@Anonawrimo][@TheFake][/center]
[hr]

Soraya's less-than-courteous observations evoked a scoff from Marxion, who rolled his eyes at her snobbery. Then, as suddenly as she'd come, she was gone. Pretty unphased, he watched her go and begin to bother some random, irritable-looking chick. The look on her face as Soraya approached filled Marxion with sympathy; she seemed to tired and fed up to be disgusted and insulted. Not everyone could fly in on some luxury jet with beds, after all. He heard clearly as the spoiled princess demanded the stranger's help and couldn't help laughing softly in disbelief.

After a moment he leaned over to Jules, shrugged, and told him, “Women, eh?” Then, he leaned back and stretched over the area Soraya left behind, as though to say 'more space for me.' Jules, however, didn't give him any time to relax. “Yeh, I'm here for this rift...” Marxion began, only to be inundated by his new acquaintance's questions. One after another struck him, far too quickly for any to garner a response, until the young man stopped to catch his breath. “Easy there, mate,” the brawler chuckled. “You'll wear yourself runnin' your mouth like that. But um, sure, Defo goin' in. No team though. Wouldn't mind someone watchin' me back, that's for sure. Now, attributes, heh...”

Marxion leaned in again, this time close enough for confidentiality. He spread his fingers wide, as if signifying grand scope. “Do I ever! Check this out, mate.” Grinning, he slapped Jules on the shoulder, sat up, and without a moments hesitation lifted a leg and planted a foot against the ornate glass vase atop the coffee table before him. It sailed over the floor, careened into the ground, and shattered loudly enough to draw eyes from all over the room. When they looked, however, they say nothing out of the ordinary at all; the vase stood on the table, perfectly normal and in one piece, while Marxion stared off innocently into space.

After a few moments, and the various more-or-less confused onlookers put the event out of their mind, Marxion's face broke out into a smile again. “Pretty sick, ain't it? The name's Marxion. If we're gonna be diving together, we oughta get familiar.” He reached out a hand for Jules to shake.