<strong>Name:</strong>Pietro "The Mad Spaniard" Wells . (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=220778.msg10858714#msg10858714)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Outside the bus and headed into the mansion.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open.<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i945.photobucket.com/albums/ad295/Dariusfallenstar/Male%20Rp%20Characters/tumblr_mu9vgynDAQ1sxazu4o1_400_zps14380f1e.jpg)</div><br/>----<br/>Pietro Wells smiled as he stepped down from the bus and took in the locale. It truly was magnificent. “Listen to the way the wind whispers through the trees. So serene!” Despite standing close enough to the bus that he’d be blocking the next person from exiting, he spread his arms wide as though to embrace it all. The statuesque man, with his bronzed complexion and husky voice carried the charisma of a performer as he held the pose for a few seconds, then stepped forward. His swaggering gait positively *dripped* confidence, as if the man swung a ten pound cock between his thighs with each step.<br/><br/>Carrying only a single bag and wearing a nylon training vest (black, with stylized fittings that highlighted his lean muscularity), and matching pants, Pietro padded up the stairs to the house and paused to look around once more. He took in the distant mountains, the others exiting the bus he’d come in on, and the horizon.<br/><br/>“Beautiful,” he said, voice dripping some deep emotion. Then he turned in a rolling, fluid motion, and stepped into the mansion. His pauses were, of course, significant enough for others to interact with him or simply observe his sheer magnificence.<br/><br/>As Pietro made his way across the thickly carpeted floor, he considered how he’d come to this event – why he’d made the decisions he’d made. To be honest, the man didn’t consider fighting his primary goal. No, he wanted money and fame. Fucking a beautiful woman was, perhaps, a bonus. But he was far too pragmatic a man to believe that he would win; the odds were against any one person winning. What was *most* important was putting on a good show. Catching the attention of someone watching. Launching a career, perhaps on television or in the movies. Which was why the man felt like he’d already won. Simply coming here, being able to participate, was all he needed to prove himself a capable performer. As long as he could put on a good show (which he knew he could), he’d be set for life.<br/><br/>Plus, you know, the hot fucking.<br/>