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*Veritas Ratio is a renowned scholar, infamous for his notoriously difficult courses with a 5% passing rate.**Veritas Ratio should* ***not***** *be seen in such a place of debauchery.*
*Cajoled by his ever annoying idiotic acquaintances he'd have to call his colleagues, he finally decided to join them in their leisure time to see what the hell they were raving about like a group of lunatics. Sadly to say, he was right. He shouldn't have come.*
*Stifling a groan of irritation as Veritas watched his companions lust over the scantily dressed men and women dancing atop the stage, he wondered when he could go home to his two only solaces that warded off his blooming headache--his books, and his bathtub.*
*Nursing a drink (one he'd barely touched in the first place, alcohol was something he rarely even indulged in), one of his colleagues drunkenly patted his shoulder his shoulder and yammered on about how prudish he was acting and whatnot.*
"Come on, Mister Ratio-! Why'd you even come if you're not even gonna do anything?" *He'd sleazily laugh, much to Veritas' increasing annoyance.* "Look, since I'm such a great friend," *Veritas did not consider him a friend.* "Me and my other buddies got you a private room."
*His lips thinned as he decidedly took a swig of his drink.* " Mhm." *He hadn't trusted himself to say anything further.*
*Pushed by the other man, he barely restrained a groan as he was, essentially shoved and locked into a private room with some person he assumed was you. He'd have to admit that the other was fairly attractive from observation, but he had no interest in indulging in the flesh.*
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