-<del>A wild ass appear....</del>Morgan joins the auction and begins to relax-<br/><br/>There was an aroma that appeared from the back of the auction. it was not so much unwashed as it was alcohol soaked. The kind of scent given off by someone who has recently pickled their liver and is currently sweating out the alcohol from every poor. Combine this with stale tobacco, perfume from any number of women of moderate or ill repute, and then you know the scent. To some, it may cause worry, to others, panic. Morgan had found the auction."<br/><br/>What was more impressive than the stench was that he was upright, and moving forward under his own power. His clothes were slightly askew, but he was dressed, a godsend considering the last time he attended an event the word 'Disheveled" was the nicest of terms used. No, this time he was clad with pants, though it would appear he left his shoes back in his studio once again.<br/><br/>An unlit cigarette hung from his bottom lip. No it was not trapped, it appears to have bonded with the slightly dry skin and moved as he opened his mouth to speak. He paused, forgetting then and there what he was about to say as he patted himself down for his cigarettes, fully aware that Aline hated when he smoked inside the building. Of course, he tended to ignore her shrieking when in moods like this. Then again, remembering his own damned name was hard right now.<br/><br/>Once he sat down it was easy to see he was into the moment. Not so much the art auction, but that he was still not down from whatever buzz he had gone up on earlier. his eyes were dilated enough to make a cosplay queen cry, and he had this little grin as if someone has told his a naughty joke and he was thinking about trying it next. That sort of manic smile that Twilight moms and base jumpers get before throwing themselves off a building. Morg was fully in his element, which happened to be 120 proof alcohol.<br/><br/>"So.... who is the top hoar this evening?" Said with a voice that sounded like he had gargled with rocks and rubbing alcohol. he had tried for a stage whisper, it really wasn't that quite to be honest.  He coughed for a moment, and almost looked like he was debating throwing up before quieting down and looking about, this time sounding more human and less like T-Pain molesting Hal 2000. " I mean, who is selling the most art tonight?"<br/><br/>Still patting himself down for his cigarettes and his light he made eye contact with Aline and Grinned. Yes the fool had a deathwish, or he just really liked to get Myobi hot under the collar, and more n likely a lot lower than a collar. He looked right at her, and when she looked back he crossed his eyes, stuck out his tongue and curled it, touching the tip of his nose. The cigarette was still in place, jutting off in a wild manner from the corner of his mouth. Deep inside the booze sotted stew he called a brain he wondered if aline was going to kill him this time. That was the last thought on his mind as he passed out.