Senitus II

Continuation of Senitus.  I really have no idea how people will respond to this character, as that he's not really idyllic by any means.  He's not a bad person, but neither someone that one would wish to be.  He's just sort of downtrodden, and the result of such.  Also, I love that last line.  Not entirely sure why; just do.

“Well you could've fuckin’ woken me up.” Senitus snapped back. Neither his body nor his ego were willing to deal with this right now, especially just having woken up. After giving his rebuff, he couldn't even look at his kin, diverting his gaze down and away from him, looking instead at a crack in the wall next to his bed.

“Oh, wake you up for your own responsibilities? You’re a grown bloody man!” His grandfather’s voice raised before continuing, “I’ve long since given up on attempting to wake you up to perform duties which are your bloody responsibility! Every time you just get all pissy like a spoiled little girl before rolling back into your bedsheets. Just be glad that your parents aren't here to see what you've become.”

This was not the first time that they had this conversation, but this wasn't the first time that Senitus just didn't have the patience for it. He grabbed his tunic that he’d drunkenly thrown on the floor last night threw it over his head, cinching a belt around his waist and quickly slipping on his sandals. He didn't bother tightening them to his feet, as that is was more important for him to get out of the apartment. He grabbed his pouch with his money in it, throwing the cord around his neck and threw it underneath his tunic before storming out the door and slamming it behind him.

He drew a slow, deep breath in let it all out at once, shaking his head. He just needed to get out of here; away from his grandfather, away from his troubles. They lived on the fourth floor of six, balconies in the middle with rooms encircling a central courtyard which housed a fountain for public use. He made his way to one of the two staircases and followed them down to the courtyard.

Senitus plodded down the bottom of the stairs and rounded his way towards the fountain, his feet not hitting the ground at their even, regular pace. Even after descending the stairs, his gaze still did not leave his feet. Even though he had slept in, he reasoned that perhaps the wine still had influence on him. Absurd, clearly, he thought.

“‘Ave a rough night there?” He looked up to catch sight of one of the women who lived in the insula with him. She was a relatively young woman with dark hair cut close to her head, usually wearing a wig of a flaxen colour when she was at work. With tanned skin and hazel eyes, she betrayed her ancestry to the Ravennan peninsula, the home of their people, bearing a toothy grin which at the same time made her seem a bit simple and entirely alluring, her teeth slightly crooked and her eyes slightly vacant.