open-post-to-anyone-that-lives-in-Reaver-and-Vell's-house

“Son of a bitch. how did this happen.” Vell muttered to himself trying to wrench his wrist out of the handcuff. No such luck.

He’d been down in the dungeon looking for the papers he’d misplaced from work. They weren’t anywhere else in the house so he had decided to check in here. Unfortunate for Vell there had been various things on the ground in which tripped him, causing him to fall and a handcuff to clasp around his wrist. With no key to be seen.

“Fucking hell.” he growled.