#(Here; have sum Mark Feels :'DDDDDDDD )

[ducktales-wco-oo]

✩ { @calvinsmuses​​​ } ✩ - Continued from ★

{ ☆ } Anyone who knows Mark— not many people do —knows that he is a major lightweight... with a major minor problem when it comes to adhering to his limits. Stubborn and impulsive and emotional to a fault, it’s unfortunately common for him to find himself in a situation like this. Stumbling around, drunkenly laughing through the bittersweet gaze in falsely-blue hues, feathers mussed and breath overtaken by the scent of fruity drinks. 

Bumping into nearby people before Gyro arrived to herd him away to a quieter area of the raving club, it’s only through the grace of God and Mark’s well-known name that Mark has managed to go this long without getting his ass beat. That and his money... the perks brought from slurring out an order of drinks for the entire club are VERY useful. Although, the predatory gazes lingering on the inebriated parrot— ranging from eyeing his many credit cards to the exposed scarlet tail feathers, Mark’s casual outfit leaving far less to the imagination than his usual stuffy work clothes —are troublesome.

Just not as much as how little notice Mark is giving them at this time.

Gyro’s question is met with more drunken giggles, the tactless inquiry causing Mark to roll his eyes and open his beak, likely to spout out some cheeky statement that somehow manages to be both annoying and depressing... but they are both spared the parrot’s unfiltered thoughts for now, Mark miraculously clamping his beak shut when Gyro continues. Doesn’t stop him from childishly sticking out his tongue though. Rolling his eyes at the snippy statements, Mark drawls out a clumsy,  ❝  Boooooooooooo... You’re literally NO fun. And it’s sooooo hot in here. ❞  

That might just be the alcohol, Mark’s cheeks flushed with color thanks to the variety of drinks he managed to down before drunk texting Gyro. Either way, he feels like his body is on fire and putting on his shirt— cropped as the top may be —is NOT something Mark feels like doing.

Drink sloshing in his hand, umbrella falling to the ground and brightly colored liquid spilling onto the filthy floor, Mark quickly downs it— not giving Gyro the chance to snatch it —before lightly tossing the glass onto a nearby table, watching it roll away through a dazed look as if its journey is the most interesting thing in the world. As soon as it rolls over the edge with a drowned-out clutter, Mark looks over at Gyro and slurs through a lopsided smile,  ❝  What’s the huuuurry anyways? C’mon, Gearloose... It’s like- a boppin’ good time here...  ❞  

An arm slinging over Gyro’s shoulders, Mark leans against his side, using the taller male as support to make up for his jelly-like legs. Free arm clumsily motions around them, nearly knocking over a tray of drinks from a nearby employee’s hand,  ❝  Lookit all these peeps just VIBING! Nobody’s sad here- and if they ARE, they’re too drunk to really care anyway so- Yeah.  ❞  Sputtering out a bubbly laugh, head lolls against Gyro’s shoulder as Mark admits,  ❝  Probs ‘cause I’ve been pumping these peeps full of free drinks for like- a hella long time now... They Lo-OVE me for it...  ❞  Face turning, it buries against Gyro’s body, following words muffled,  ❝  Heh... The perks of having lots of mons...  ❞  

❝  All the fake friends you could EVER want... and even ones ya don’t. ❞  { ☆ }