The bruised yet quicker than average healing man stopped and grinned to himself as he looked around at glory that is the Gomorrah. Tilting his black fedora slightly forward, Markus sauntered up to the counter. Sliding a small wad of NCR cash across to the secretary, though leaving his hand firmly in place, he smiled to the woman.<span style="color: DarkRed">"Doll, what's going on in these swanky digs? Looks like another debauchery filled day, eh?" </span>. Markus glances around as he hoists the heavy suitcase on the counter with his free hand. The well-dressed man leans in close, pulling his shades away from his eyes as he speaks<span style="color: DarkRed">. " Listen, baby-doll. One suite, have the help take my case up to the room and let Ms. Fanya know that, 'Mr. Reed has returned, and the delivery is completed.'. I'll be out on the floor, let her know that."</span>He winks before covering those blue eyes once again with his favorite mirrored lenses.Taking his hand off of the cash he turns on heel, heading toward the bank, calling over his shoulder in an afterthought,<span style="color: DarkRed">"Oh, and send a bottle of your best Whiskey to my room!". </span><br/><br/>After gathering a mass of chips he heads to the devil's wheel, stopping a moment here and there to admire Gomorrah's fine selection of cage dancers hard at work. He felt right at home, fine women, fine lascivious trappings, fine liquor, and gambling. What more could Markus want? Arriving at the roulette table, he boldly takes half of his chips pushing them towards the croupier,<span style="color: DarkRed"> "Black"</span>, he simply says, a smug smile starting to slither across his face. He observes the quickly spinning wheel from behind his silver frames, watching as the ball hops from spot to spot he could feel his luck getting better already...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>