Perhaps due to his rather bourgeois upbringing Mark Storer, who was groomed to be a concert violinist, seems rather opposed to races involving any significant amounts of dirt. He feels these events are best left to the unwashed masses such as his stable boy Francois whom he picked up on a recent wine buying escapade on the continent.
Described by most as something of a foppish dandy, he eschewed the yacht racing scene of his forefathers and affiliated himself with NW Velo, a rather questionable band of rouges and scoundrels. A man of leisure, Mark Storer turns his nose at anything less then a grand cru Bordeux in his bottles and is easy to spot in the peleton by the the french cuffs his tailor adds to all his skin-suits as befits a man of his breeding.
Beyond bicycling, Mark's interests involve collecting ascots and ties made from spiders silk which he finds to be far and away finer then that of the lowly silk worm. A man of the world and legendary lover of women Mark Storer is a student with delusions of grandeur who subscribes to the notion that the truth should never stand in the way of a good story. |
