<div class="floatright">(http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h164/ybfchic/August%202015%20Part%20V/xe7.png)</div>Name:  Markus<br/>Location: Ballroom<br/>Tagging:  -<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Markus Jerome Cade had to admit he was a bit awestruck as he peered thru the darkened limousine window. The lightweight boxing phenomenon had been to some impressive homes as of late, from manors to mansions, but nothing visited before held a candle to the massive sprawling estate that was the Castle home of Count and Countess Daough. Markus was thankful for the natural pause the precession of expensive and luxury vehicles gave as each drove up to the red-carpeted entrance and deposited their renowned occupants. It gave M.J.C. the much needed time to stomp down the trepidation and growing anxiety that was natural when one stepped out of their comfort zone. This wasn't just high society, this was nobility; the ultimate circle of elites within this thing called Civilization. When your bloodline has been on top thru out centuries, that's saying something.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/07/2c/e3/072ce358a93c0201be6125842da2b4d4--anubis-symbol-anubis-tattoo.jpg)</div><br/>"I got this..." Markus Cade said to himself as he withdrew the blue gold jackal mask with an ornate ankh centerpiece between the long ears and above the eye holes, from its decorative box and donned it. The white Egyptian silk shirt that open wide in the front displaying Cade's muscular chest, dark and equally fine pants and a pair of blue and gold matching sandals completed the look. While shopping for the right outfit for this ball, one of Markus's lady friend had texted him,<em>'Don't try to be one of them because you're not. Be you, be exotic, and you will belong in your own way'</em>. The Jackal, as he was known in the ring, decided to heed the advice. Leaving behind all thoughts of finery M.J.C. went for simplicity. The look of an Egyptian Warrior or Slave adorned for personal battle or pleasure; ready for whichever might present itself. Still, as the attractive brawler stepped out of his Limo and made his way inside he couldn't help feeling a bit underdress and unimportant. The finery of the ballroom was exquisite; the costumes on display as fine and colorful as anything he had seen. Each guest telling their own story as they hide from the normal world to indulge their wildest fantasies.<br/><br/>It took a conscious effort not to immediately turn around and head back outside or slip out of sight into a dark corner and hide out for the night. Markus would have been more at home in a Vegas Nightclub or at Chocolate City in Atlanta, GA... Hell gambling in Rio or running a mile on the white sand beaches of Thailand; What was before the fighter was a challenge. Social in nature but a challenge nonetheless but Markus Jerome Cade had been overcoming difficult situations his whole life and this would be no different. It was at that very moment that the Gods decided to help the young man out as an extremely attractive party goer, dress to the nines and built like a supermodel walked pass. All thoughts of retreating from this Ball faded as Cade's eyes followed the woman, looking her over from marvelous head to delicate toe. Completely aware of her effect on the newcomer, the unnamed Lady turned and smiled, her face adorned by a decorative and colorful mask. Twinkling eyes that asked in a single glance, "Do you like what you see?" before giving a seductive smirk and disappearing into the crowd. It was a game changer and as M.J.C. started to pay more attention he started to realize that she was one of many and all the reasons he had decided to honor this invite started to come back to him. These Masquerade Balls, he remembered, are notorious for their "after hour" activities and the type of people who let it all go when the masks come off.<br/><br/>Voices, that seem to fill the chamber, radiated from the center of the ballroom. The tones were commanding but pleasant and all activities ceased as The Count and Countess welcomed their guest. Both were strikingly beautiful people with raven colored hair. The Count a slender man just about Markus's height with piercing dark brown eyes takes his mates hand; the Countess herself smaller in only stature, not presence, moves in synch with her man as they issue forth the commands of dancing and merriment. As a full orchestra enchants the ballroom with an open song the regal pair take to the dance floor as the first of many.<br/><br/>It was at this moment that Markus Cade gave thanks for his gruff old trainer who, after watching the young Boxer in the ring at the start of his career, had decreed that the soon to be known Jackal had all the grace of a dusty punching bag. Gifted with no sense of rhythm and leaded feet, the wise mentor had promptly walked the aspiring fighter across the street to Lady Agatha's School of Dance. There Markus was indoctrinated to various routines in an effort to teach the clumsy boxer how to move well enough not to get his face smashed in. Grueling hours learning step after complicated step had done the tricked, not only had M.J.C., a natural athlete, become a talented dancer but he had learned how to move his feet independent of conscious thought so that he could focus on his opponents in the ring. This reason alone was why Cade hadn't the myriad of facial scarring that afflicted most boxers, such as broken noses and oddly shaped ears; he just was too damn hard to hit. Yet now, other than thinking he might have a chance on "Dancing with the Stars" did the Boxer realize that his ballroom dancing skills might be of some use.<br/><br/>All the Anibus Warrior had to do was find himself a partner...