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Marcus Flint (marcedflint) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

The chiming of the wards made Marcus' eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he hurriedly finished showering, stumbling around the bedroom in an effort to get dressed as quickly as possible. There were very few people keyed to his wards - Roger was already here, unless he'd left and come back, which Marcus thought unlikely, and he wasn't keen on the idea of leaving Greg or Bryony waiting for him.

Stepping out into the main area of the flat, his eyes immediately sought out Bryony's figure standing in the middle of the living room, obviously upset. He didn't stop to think before walking to her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, a lifetime of something like instinct to protect and comfort her guiding his actions. There were a few moments of silence as he assessed that there wasn't any immediate threat, which relaxed him slightly. Catching sight of Roger out of the corner of his eye, he looked over at the younger man, resisting the urge to roll his eyes when he realized what exactly he was - or wasn't, really, as it were - wearing. "Roger, would you mind getting dressed, please?" Marcus asked quietly, before returning his attention to Bryony.

"Come, sit," he said, making to guide her to the couch to sit down, concern still written all over his face, but not beginning to prod at what might have been wrong.