Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-8267955-20160316124305/@comment-25686329-20160408003402

((I guess I'm jumping in with Anomaly, Varanus and Yankee.))

The Yankee looked at himself in the mirror and his eyes burned, tears threatening to break from his eyes. He willed them back and growled.

He had tried so damn hard to just... hide, and now Grimm was mandating this whole stupid thing. He remembered the last one.

See, when Ticktania had died, the Yankee, in turn, had gone off the grid. Hid in the Stronghold in between what classes he didn't now take online. Something about her death rattled him to the core, and all these months later something about it still frightened him.

Then there was the crap with the Paintball game. Nix. That Merlinian had turned her against him and that had broken him further. He had retreated inward even more due to that. They -- they being Sandra and the rest of her crew -- they had actually... won against him. Not 'won' like won the game. No, they had... broken him. His spirit was broken, and it was only recently that he had gathered enough strangth

His suit was pitch black and the only spike of color was the blood red tie. He kept a paintball pistol tucked underneath one side of the jacket. Old habits, he supposed. Made him feel like Agent 47, really.

He left.

He paused as he walked down the hallway, sensing someone behind him. He turned on his heel. She was green-skinned, so he guessed she was a witch-daughter, but he couldn't say they had met before.

"Hey." He tried.