"What time is it?" Tenor tones ask the question to no one in particular as a head adorned with hair like brandished gold rises up from the mess of pillows and blankets. Slowly he rises up, stretching, leaning backwards, exposing those chiseled muscles of eternally young abs. Marcelo thinks nothing of sleeping the day away, of allowing himself to simply waste his days doing entirely the same thing as he did the day before. Time always seemed to pass strangely for those who were not affected by such things. His golden brown hair is a mess as he finally stands from the bed he had fallen drunkenly asleep within the previous night. The jackal was certainly always down for a good party, that much this was certain. A grin comes to his face as he thinks of the evening he had just spent, dancing at en exclusive club downtown that had been rented out for the evening. How the dusty golden haired jackal had been able to get in was quite the act he had performed. He had merely found a girl alone in the line of people waiting to have their names found on the list before they could enter. Mocha eyes had roamed her body posture, confident, but bored, as if she were over having to wait in lines to parties she was clearly invited to. Marcelo had run a hand through that lightly bronzed, dirty blonde hair and made his way over, mocha eyes bright and curious as he went to her side. "Hey," the tawny haired jackal said. Just a single word. In return, she had turned her own brown eyes onto him, thick with disgust. Until she actually got a good look at the boy with bronzed hair, roguish smile, and athletic demeanor. Her own smile comes to her face as her features brighten. "Hey," she responds. And in that moment, the dirty blonde boy knew he had his ticket inside. Her chocolate eyes look to him. "Do you know Jenny too?" She asks. And this is when Marcelo had given her a beaming grin. "You know, I don't actually, but I think I would enjoy getting to know one of her friends," he said, those brown eyes holding that powerful stare that was so hard for people to say no to, no matter how much they wanted to. "Well,"â€"here it comesâ€""Why don't you be my plus one?" She suggest, in which the brandished gold haired boy simply shrugged and slung his arm over her shoulder which the girl allowed. Wow, that had been easy, good for the enterally lazy scoundrel. Dark chocolate eyes, glowed confidently. as the two emerged in conversation until reaching the front of the line, the jackal's chest raised in victory.

When the girl and the were reached the front, the blonde woman, whose name was Kaitlyn turns out, had gotten the jackal in easily to the party. A party, Marcelo decided immediately was certainly worth having his ear chatted off the last twenty or so minutes. Alcohol all around, a banging dance floor, and he was sure some other illegal substances were being passed around. His grin seemed to not be able to grow any wider. "Ugh, I really hate these big parties, want to go over there and talk some more?" The woman asked the boy with a wolfish smile as she points a near solitary area in the corner. "Sure thing, but I think I see someone I know, let me just go say hi real quick and then I will come join you," Marcelo said, looking to her eyes with his own of mahogany as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear thoughtfully. She turn hapily away and into her little corner of the club while Marcelo dived into the crowd, earthen eyes ablaze with a wild joy, the jackal certainly having no intention of meeting up with woman at any point during the night. He was here for himself and himself alone.

The dark eyed jackal then danced the night away, drinking, and drinking some more, until his recount of night grew fuzzy and blurred. Until he woke up in his hotel room though surprisingly unaccompanied by a raging hangover much to his surprise and delight. Dark eyes rove around the room as he stretches one last time before deciding perhaps he ought to get the day started.

He dresses simply in a grey t shirt and a dark pair of skinny jeans with black high top chucks. A typical look for the chocolate eyed scoundrel when he wasn't dressing to impress. Mocha-eyed Marcelo then pushes open his hotel door before locking it behind him. He had begun to explore a bit more of Sacrosanct, making questions of what the were population was up to, and repeatedly in hushed words as to not catch the ears of any dark hunter or ignorant human, they told the earthen eyed jackal of the Ark. Those earthen depths then widened with surprise and delight. It had been far too long since he had allowed himself the pleasure romp with his own kind. So with a cheeky grin spreading across his face this autumn morning, Marcelo had finally decided to take the plunge and find out what this ark was all about.

The dark eyed were makes his way to the West side of town, shuffling through people until the vast emptiness of the abandoned warehouse district spread out before mocha eyes. A wolfish, wild grin crosses his face at the endless prospects for finding some ill intentioned fun on this side of town. Earthen eyes peering around the area if he could spot any of the potential fun roaming about. He moves off through the warehouses in the direction of the waterfront, for he had heard whispers that the Ark was indeed exactly as it sounded: a large ship. When he rounds a corner, sensitive ears picking up the sound of waves sloshing against a solid surface, he spots with earthen eyes the ship in question, and makes his way towards the bulking mass. He stops only when he reaches a few yards or so from where he assumes the entrance to be. The jackal was not apart of this pack, he wasn't apart of any pack actually, and hadn't been apart of one in quite some time, a few centuries at least. He knew better though than to tread on another's territory, especially if he was here on friendly terms. Earthen gaze makes its way to the entrance, wondering if perhaps anyone from the pack that resided there may be willing to come out and say hello to the thieving jackal.