Quote from Azure

Oi, Kamiroo. I hope you have no problem with me having mentioned Sanctuary in my part of the Clan War.

Quote from Azure

Oi, Kamiroo. I hope you have no problem with me having mentioned Sanctuary in my part of the Clan War.

Quote from Kamiroo Wolf

Hope you can forgive me for not reading it.

I've been meaning to, but the amount of sloth in my being is absolutely staggering. Like, seriously.

I'm sure I won't have a problem(nothing I could do if I did, lol).

Quote from XDHunterNest

So, Zackeroar has finished his first ACR. :) CnC please?

David vs Goliath (Click to Show)

"So, this is it." said Sencarn as the two entered the underground base of Sanctuary. It was a huge cavernous space with everything that a clan could hope its base would be. Zackeroar looked around in awe of his new home. "Mortal, I must commend you for this beautiful piece of architecture. This even rivals the beauty of the Parthenon!" said the Spartan as his new leader escorted him to his own bedroom. "Why, thank you, son of Zeus! Oh, I forgot to mention." Sencarn's voice bounced around the walls of the base as they stopped right in front of the door of Zackeroar's bedroom. "No fighting inside the base. Well, except in the spar rooms, but other than that, please settle civil disputes either non-violently or outside." said the crimson eyed man. "No problem with that. I swear it. Let the gods bear witness to my oath." replied the Spartan.

Sencarn opened the oak door and gestured for Zackeroar to enter the room first. The wooden floor creaked as the metal-clad warrior entered his new lodging. "I hope this fits your needs." said the leader of Sanctuary. "Yes, yes it does. You have my thanks." Zackeroar said with a smile as he set aside his weapons and armor. "Alright, I'll be going then. Please, make yourself feel at home. The kitchen should be right down the hall if you need to eat. Me and the other clan members are always here to assist you if you need our help. Some of the others might drop by as well. I'll be calling you later." Sencarn left the room.

Three of the other members of Sanctuary visited and welcomed their new ally to the clan. One was another demigod called Ergos. He wasn't the son of any Greek gods, no, but he was the son of a blacksmith and a goddess. Zackeroar, intrigued, vowed to talk more once he was settled in. Another man named Light visited the Spartan as well. He was armor-clad in a darkish armor much like his. Apparently, he used to be much more to which Zackeroar said, "Surely one day you will return to your former glory. I swear I will help you achieve this." Dante, another member of Sanctuary, was out and not in the clan base at that moment. His latest enemy, Winston, also came and welcomed the proud warrior. Well, he tried to welcome his new clanmate. As the artist tried to enter the room, Zackeroar shut the door to his face. Other than that, the Spartan also had not met the core members of the clan yet.

The next day, Zackeroar woke up to see Sencarn standing beside his bed. "Good morning, Zackeroar. Please, get your armor and weapons ready and meet me at the briefing area." After that, the crimson-eyed leader of Sanctuary went out of the room. The demi-god quickly rose to his feet and stretched. Then, after donning his armor and grabbing his weapons, headed to the briefing room. The briefing room consisted of a table with chairs around it. All kinds of machines and doohickies which the Spartan didn't understand surrounded the table. "Ah, welcome! Please, take a seat." said Sencarn. "This is Gus." A man with a gas mask and a metal helmet nodded and shook hands with the metal-clad warrior. "This is Giselle." A woman with dark brown eyes and brown hair smiled at Zackeroar. The Spartan smiled back as Sencarn introduced an old man with a cane in his hand. "You can call me Gramps." said this same old man.

"Now that you're acquainted with everyone, let us start with the briefing." said Sencarn sternly.
"Alright, so, Zack. Can I call you Zack?" asked Gus.
"I prefer to be called Wrath Incarnate Zackeroar, son of Zeus, Protector of the Innocent and the Demonslayer, but Zack or Zackeroar is fine." replied the scion of the god of gods.
"Ok then, Zack. So, there is this one guy called Basil Fettucine. Guy's a total ass, if we can even call him a guy." replied the metal masked man.
"He calls himself a Blood Chef." said Giselle. "He, or I should say it, is a gigantic monstrosity with no facial features except a single row of pointed teeth. He towers over most, being 7 feet tall."
"I've faced scarier hellspawns than this one." boasted Wrath Incarnate.
"Yes, I'm sure you have, sonny, but this one is different." rebuked the old man. "He is a cannibal that owns a restaurant in one of the dark corners of town. Well, I don't know if we can call him a cannibal due to the fact that he doesn't seem to be human. He basically skins people alive then cooks them."
"Don't let his gentleman attitude fool you, warrior. He is as savage as he is civilized. It doesn't make sense, I know. He does gentlemanly things like holding the door for people and stuff like that. On the contrary though, he is the kind of asshole who kidnaps women and slams doors on people's throats." informed Sencarn.
"Bloody hell! This demon deserves to rot in Tartarus! I swear I will rid the earth of this monstrosity. Where do I find him?" Zackeroar zealously answered.
"He has a restaurant in town called 'Chef Basil's Bistro'. It's near the edge of the town's boundaries." said Giselle. Without a word, Zackeroar stood up and walked away.

The establishment looked fancy for a restaurant in one of the darkest places in town. It was a rectangular building with a large glass window spanning half of the front facade. Inside, you could see a black wallpaper with a red border. A golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, shedding light onto the people eating below. Well, there were none since the restaurant wasn't open yet. A sign hung from the doorknob of the dark oaken entrance. "Welcome to Chef Basil's Bistro! Open from 6:00 AM to 7:00 PM." were the words etched onto the sign.

Zackeroar felt a vibration on the left pocket of his tattered brown leggings. He put his hand inside and pulled out his phone. It was the indestructible one given to him by the leader of his former clan, Aiba Kannagi of the Wind Chasers. He removed his helmet, the plume swaying as the wind blew. Holding his helmet with his left hand, the phone's ringing stopped as the demi-god answered the call.

"Hello, mortal. Who is this?" asked the Spartan.
"Hello, Zackeroar. This is Gus." answered the voice on the other side of the phone.
"Gus? How in Tartarus did you contact me?"
"I have my ways. So, how is the mission going?"
"I'm at this fiend's lair. It says it opens at 6:00 AM. Whatever that means to you humans."
"It means he's going to arrive in about.....now."

A tall figure strolled down the street towards the bistro as the Spartan observed from a distance, still talking to Gus on his phone. Upon closer observance, he saw that the giant of a man had no facial features. Only a single row of teeth.

"Gus."
"Yes, what is it? That was a long silence, Zack."
"Target spotted. I'll call you when I have slain this beast."

"Good morning." said the giant to Zackeroar as he passed by. The Spartan observed him and eyed him from head to toe. Basil had a crimson-splattered chef hat on his head and an apron covered in mucus in blood. His body was well chiseled and he had muscles all around. He had his feet on the concrete sidewalk, bare and without any form of protection.
"Ah, yes, yes." said the demi-god after a short pause. "Good morning to you as well."

Basil nodded and seemed to give a smile then walked to the alley between his restaurant and the brick building next door. A door creaked and Zackeroar knew it was time. He put on his helmet and grabbed his spear and shield. "What do the mortals say? What was it again? Oh, yes. Now I remember. It's show time." He walked with a certain swagger that only he had when it was time for battle. The wooden door crashed down with a mighty kick from the Spartan.

"What are you doing!?" yelled the faceless monster.
"Basil Fetuccine. I have come to stop your cannibalism and demonic acts, you unworthy sack of horse shit!"
"Come at me then!" said Basil as he held a frying pan in hand.

"This kitchen is too small. I am at a severe disadvantage here. Better bring it outside. Ares, guide my blade. Zeus, watch over your son. Athena, give me wisdom in this battle of mine. Hades, uncle. Swear to me you will have room for this Blood Chef in the Underworld." Zackeroar thought as his enemy charged, frying pan raised above his head and ready to strike. The Spartan sidestepped right and the Chef continued to run right through the entry way and into the alley. The demi-god kicked the back of the seven foot giant, sending him a few steps forward before falling face first onto the sidewalk. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall." Zackeroar said with a smirk on his face.

Relentless, the demi-god raised his spear high and brought it down, steel tip first towards the head of the fallen giant. Before the thrust could connect, the Blood Chef kicked with both of his feet. Zackeroar blocked with his shield, but the force of the kick caused him to stagger back as Basil jumped to his feet. He then rushed towards the Spartan, who was still recovering from the blunt force of the kick.

Fetuccine raised the pan on his right hand and swung it horizontally, aiming for Zackeroar's left temple. The Spartan sidestepped, dodging the pan as it swung close to his head. Then, he thrust his spear towards the exposed torso of his enemy. The Blood Chef took a step back, barely managing to dodge the spear as it ripped the front of his apron.

"Bloody hell, mate! Why'd you do that!?" he said as he tore his apron and threw it on the concrete road.

In a fit of rage, the giant charged the Spartan like a bull. It sent the demi-god to the brick wall as the chest and shoulders of the seven footer crashed into the body of the smaller man. Zackeroar grunted as the armor on his back screeched when he hit the wall and slumped. Quickly, the giant grabbed the fully armored warrior and raised him above his head. A moment later and he was sent crashing down towards the pavement.

The pan hit Zackeroar's helmet as he lay on the sidewalk. He screamed as his helmet rang when metal hit metal.

"What in Zeus's name!?" he said as he felt a searing hot pain on his left cheek. The giant continued to pummel his defenseless foe with his hot frying pan. Each hit was met with a grunt as Zackeroar felt his strength growing weaker and weaker. "Damn this demon! Oh, wait. He's getting slower and slower." He grunted. "I have to block him the next time."

With all the strength he could muster, Zackeroar blocked with his heavy bronze shield. The pan ringed and vibrated as metal crashed against metal. Taking advantage of this, the Spartan used his right foot to kick his opponent in the crotch. The impact sent the giant staggering back as he screamed loudly. "Ow! I'll get you for that!" shouted the Blood Chef.

The Spartan got to his feet, shield and spear in hand, while Basil was still recovering. He feinted a thrust with his spear and bashed with his shield. The Blood Chef retaliated by grabbing the shield with both hands and throwing it as far as he could. "Son of a witch!" exclaimed Zackeroar. He grabbed his spear by the oak shaft with two hands then hit his opponent on the right part of his neck, the wooden oak shaft barely hitting the gigantic monster. Then, he brought it back, hitting the left part of Basil's neck.

He tried thrusting at Fetuccine's face, but it was met by the pan of the Blood Chef himself. The spear was sent flying as a horizontal slash parried the thrust. Quickly, Basil raised the pan above his head and brought it down, aiming for the head of the smaller combatant. Zackeroar sidestepped right and ran behind him. He punched the shin of the giant, causing him to kneel one on knee. "Seems like I won't need to use Wrath. Heh." the Spartan said as he unsheathed his greatsword. With a powerful horizontal slash, the monster's head was disconnected from the neck. Blood squirted everywhere as the head rolled in front of the killer.

"You were never fit for the wRHG, you demonic pile of goat shit. Neither were you fit to live in this world, you cannibalistic nightmare. May you suffer in the Underworld forever, fiend." muttered the demi-god as he threw two drachma at the corpse of the seven footer. "Say hello to the ferryman for me, Basil Fetuccine."

Grabbing his weapons, he headed home. Zackeroar got lost a few times in what he called a "maze of a town". Finally, as the sun set in the west and the sky turned to an red orange hue, the Spartan made it to the base of his new clan. He walked with a sack in his hand and what seemed to be a round figure inside of it.

He entered the briefing room and was surprised to see everyone there. Gus, Sencarn, Gramps, and Giselle were all seated on the very same table and seemed to not have moved since Zackeroar left.

"So, how did the mission go?" asked Sencarn.

Zackeroar dropped the brown sack and let the round figure roll forward on the floor.

"What is this?" asked Gus.
"That, Gus, is Basil's head." answered Giselle.
"Good job, Zackeroar!" shouted Sencarn as the group applaused.
"The gods and godesses helped me. I did most of the heavy lifting, though." said Zackeroar with a smirk on his face.
"Hahahaha." Gramps laughed. "Well, warrior, I think it's time for you to rest. Good job once again, Zack."
"Yes, good job. Go rest now for we may need you in the future." said Sencarn as Zackeroar bowed and exited the room.

Quote from Chromium7

D'aw. Kam. I'll pick the passage out for ya. It's only a few lines when you separate it out.

And if anything does seem off- whether it's with this story or any other- it doesn't matter what stage we're at- we'll totally do what we can to work around it! The goal is to make a story that everyone can enjoy, and if we can do a better job with that, then we'll happily find a way to!

If you want a summary, Dante just shot Sencarn a quick phonecall to let him know what the deal was with Nehushtan. 6 lines of dialogue, 3 sentences exposition. Not a huge thing.

The Call (Click to Show)

Whatever had happened to change the (Coils') meeting time likely wasn’t something to take unseriously. Grabbing his phone as he put on some boxers, he (Dante) dials up Sencarn. After a few rings, there’s an answer.

“What is it, Dante?” Sencarn asks. Judging by his voice, he hadn’t been close to sleeping yet, despite the time.

“The Doctor is calling for the Coils sooner,” he informs him, now attempting to put his pants on both legs at a time. “It seems something has happened; any ideas from your side?”

“Nothing that we know about or that we’ve done. Aside from the information we received in regards to the Night Creatures being moved and some facilities being attacked, we’ve gotten no reads on anything that would make Nehushtan act strangely.”

“Yeah, I was worried about that. I’ll be sure to keep you up to date on things. It was smart to send me into their midst though. After all, even if our goals are similar, they’re too close-minded. I’m lucky they need talent among them, otherwise who knows how difficult they’d be to keep track of.”

“Just be sure to keep whatever sins you commit in their name to a minimum. You may be a member of Sanctuary, but a sinner is a sinner.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Dante says as he rolls his eyes, hanging up the cell and tossing it on his bed as he pulls on a shirt.

Quote from devi

ACR target: Joyce Romano (Click to Show)

Light stretched back his shoulders, cracking his dried skin and dead bones as he moved, and turned his head to the mattress store. The shop emanated a light blue color in the dark of night, illuminating the surroundings with its brightness. The inside was a sleek white, the walls adorned with pictures of scenery made to calm those that gazed upon them. People wandered around within, unsure what to buy from the store, as the store had a large variety of beds. Light stepped into the store. He didn’t have his armor on this time, instead just adorning a dark blue robe he had with him in his belongings. His head was hooded and the face covered by the scarf he had gotten earlier that day. The robe concealed his undead form; one could simply assume it was an shy tall man. He looked cautiously around, walking down the middle of the store, his naked dead feet pressing heavily onto the clean floor. Behind him he left a trail dirt brown footsteps and grey skin flaking onto the ground. A worker turned his head as he saw Light walk in through the door, and plastered on a smile. Quickly approaching with a clipboard, the worker stopped a meter in front of the hulking robed man.

“Can I help you sir?” The worker asked inquisitively, holding his clipboard close to his chest. Light turned his head downwards to the voice and replied.

“No.”

“Then I’m going to have to ask you to go outside again, you are leaving a trail of dirt from your shoes and we don’t like dirty floors in this store.”

Light stepped forward to the worker, turning his head down all the way to look down at the shorter man. The worker gulped, intimidated by the towering being in front of him. His eyes twitched a bit as the robed man spoke once more.

“I’ll leave when my business here is done.” He started to step past the worker, reaching forward with his right leg. He had barely taken a step when the worker in turn moved in front of him again.

“You’ll leave when I ask you to. Don’t think that by being tall you scare me in the slightest.” Light started to tense his hand, the bone coming through the skin as he tried once more to come past. This time, the worker reached to grab his arm. Light elbowed his arm away and slammed his hand into worker’s throat, lifting him up with his cold hands. The robe on his arm dangled off, showing off the undead arm lifting the man up. The worker was in pure shock as his eyes widened in fear and he started to breathe faster and faster, completely concentrated on Light’s face. He could feel Light’s hand tightening on his throat, the air he desperately breathed for slowly slipping away. Light moved his face closer to the worker, his blue fiery eyes glowing through the scarf on his face.

“And you’ll die when I ask you to.”

“okay okay okay okay, you’re the boss! I’ll leave you alone! Just please don’t hurt me!” The worker whispered, his voice getting lighter and lighter as the robed man squeezed on his windpipe.

“Now tell me where I can find Joyce Romano.”

“She’sonthebedattheendoftheroompleaseletmego.” The worker spoke so quickly that Light could barely hear what he was saying. Sighing loudly, he released his grip on the workers neck. The man fell to the ground hard, face planting onto the floor as he wheezed for breath. Light turned his head around. Most, if not all, the people in the store were staring at him with frightened and curious eyes. Light spoke to them in the most terrifying voice he could.

“What are you all looking that?” And with those words they all quickly bolted back to what they were doing. Light stepped over the wheezing body of the man he was strangling and walked to the end of the room.

He walked for about thirty seconds and stopped at the bed at the end of the long corridor that was the store. On a light blue bed lay his target, Joyce. She lay down on the bed, completely relaxed and oblivious to what just happened just a few meters ahead. Light heard her breath, it was soft and in a way relaxing. He stepped to the side of the bed and leaned over it, looking down at his target. A bit of his scarf dripped down and touched her face gently. She moved a bit, as she slowly opened her eyes. At first she was drowsy as he returned back to the world of the awake, but as her sight returned to her, the drowsiness turned into surprise.

“Are you Joyce Romano?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“A member from Sanctuary is asking.”

“Sactuary? Oh you mean the guys who sit around and complain about the system they’re stuck in but never actually do something about it?” Light was about to answer that question, but he froze, as he had no answer to give. He quickly composed himself.

“I was sent here to recruit you into our clan, we require assistance by all we can find.”

“What makes you say I would even be interested in joining your clan?”

“We know about your family.” And with that Joyce shot up from her bed. Her head barely missed the towering giants face, and Light recoiled back in surprise. Her mildly tired but playful face turning into one of concern. She bit her finger as she spoke quietly.

“How do you people even know about that?”

“Word travels quickly through the mouths of the curious. Nothing stays secret, nothing spoken stays silent, and nothing written stays hidden.”

“Nice poetry.”

Joyce strolled around the bed for a few seconds in thought, her mind frozen in the process of figuring out what to do. Finally, she spoke once more with a determined voice.

“What do I get from joining in your little club?”

“We will assist you with finding your family.”

“Is that a guarantee, or a promise?” Joyce asked while staring right into Light’s fiery eyes.

They both stood there for a while in complete silence, no sounds but the light on the roof of the store. A light flickered a bit, turning the room dark for half a second, the only light in that half second being the fire of Light’s eyes. With a heavy hit to his chest with his hand, Light broke the silence. The impact moved his robe a bit, showing off his gnarly dead hands. He fell to a knee and looked down, as if showing respect to royalty.

“I swear this unto you with my strongest vow.” He pulled off the robe on his other arm, full revealing both to the dismay of Joyce who felt mildly disgusted. Suddenly, a bright flash of light blinded her, piercing her eyes as she turned away in surprise, hiding her eyes behind her hands. The light dispersed quickly, and she put down her hands. Light had burned a mark on his dead hand. The mark was of a square that had lines coming out at the edges, the lines joining together in a circle. In the center of the square was what seemed to be an eye; it was hard to see on the grey flesh. Joyce sighed loudly and scratched her head

“I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get, and you don’t seem like a guy who would lie about it considering you burnt your own skin.” Light rose up from his knee as she spoke. He gestured his arm for them to leave.

And so they did.

I'll be honest, I think Light misses the idea of sleeping.

Quote from Azure

Question: how would you feel about a non-wRHG, non-member being paid an exorbitant amount to assassinate somebody?

Quote from devi

ACR target: Joyce Romano (Click to Show)

Light stretched back his shoulders, cracking his dried skin and dead bones as he moved, and turned his head to the mattress store. The shop emanated a light blue color in the dark of night, illuminating the surroundings with its brightness. The inside was a sleek white, the walls adorned with pictures of scenery made to calm those that gazed upon them. People wandered around within, unsure what to buy from the store, as the store had a large variety of beds. Light stepped into the store. He didn’t have his armor on this time, instead just adorning a dark blue robe he had with him in his belongings. His head was hooded and the face covered by the scarf he had gotten earlier that day. The robe concealed his undead form; one could simply assume it was an shy tall man. He looked cautiously around, walking down the middle of the store, his naked dead feet pressing heavily onto the clean floor. Behind him he left a trail dirt brown footsteps and grey skin flaking onto the ground. A worker turned his head as he saw Light walk in through the door, and plastered on a smile. Quickly approaching with a clipboard, the worker stopped a meter in front of the hulking robed man.

“Can I help you sir?” The worker asked inquisitively, holding his clipboard close to his chest. Light turned his head downwards to the voice and replied.

“No.”

“Then I’m going to have to ask you to go outside again, you are leaving a trail of dirt from your shoes and we don’t like dirty floors in this store.”

Light stepped forward to the worker, turning his head down all the way to look down at the shorter man. The worker gulped, intimidated by the towering being in front of him. His eyes twitched a bit as the robed man spoke once more.

“I’ll leave when my business here is done.” He started to step past the worker, reaching forward with his right leg. He had barely taken a step when the worker in turn moved in front of him again.

“You’ll leave when I ask you to. Don’t think that by being tall you scare me in the slightest.” Light started to tense his hand, the bone coming through the skin as he tried once more to come past. This time, the worker reached to grab his arm. Light elbowed his arm away and slammed his hand into worker’s throat, lifting him up with his cold hands. The robe on his arm dangled off, showing off the undead arm lifting the man up. The worker was in pure shock as his eyes widened in fear and he started to breathe faster and faster, completely concentrated on Light’s face. He could feel Light’s hand tightening on his throat, the air he desperately breathed for slowly slipping away. Light moved his face closer to the worker, his blue fiery eyes glowing through the scarf on his face.

“And you’ll die when I ask you to.”

“okay okay okay okay, you’re the boss! I’ll leave you alone! Just please don’t hurt me!” The worker whispered, his voice getting lighter and lighter as the robed man squeezed on his windpipe.

“Now tell me where I can find Joyce Romano.”

“She’sonthebedattheendoftheroompleaseletmego.” The worker spoke so quickly that Light could barely hear what he was saying. Sighing loudly, he released his grip on the workers neck. The man fell to the ground hard, face planting onto the floor as he wheezed for breath. Light turned his head around. Most, if not all, the people in the store were staring at him with frightened and curious eyes. Light spoke to them in the most terrifying voice he could.

“What are you all looking that?” And with those words they all quickly bolted back to what they were doing. Light stepped over the wheezing body of the man he was strangling and walked to the end of the room.

He walked for about thirty seconds and stopped at the bed at the end of the long corridor that was the store. On a light blue bed lay his target, Joyce. She lay down on the bed, completely relaxed and oblivious to what just happened just a few meters ahead. Light heard her breath, it was soft and in a way relaxing. He stepped to the side of the bed and leaned over it, looking down at his target. A bit of his scarf dripped down and touched her face gently. She moved a bit, as she slowly opened her eyes. At first she was drowsy as he returned back to the world of the awake, but as her sight returned to her, the drowsiness turned into surprise.

“Are you Joyce Romano?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“A member from Sanctuary is asking.”

“Sactuary? Oh you mean the guys who sit around and complain about the system they’re stuck in but never actually do something about it?” Light was about to answer that question, but he froze, as he had no answer to give. He quickly composed himself.

“I was sent here to recruit you into our clan, we require assistance by all we can find.”

“What makes you say I would even be interested in joining your clan?”

“We know about your family.” And with that Joyce shot up from her bed. Her head barely missed the towering giants face, and Light recoiled back in surprise. Her mildly tired but playful face turning into one of concern. She bit her finger as she spoke quietly.

“How do you people even know about that?”

“Word travels quickly through the mouths of the curious. Nothing stays secret, nothing spoken stays silent, and nothing written stays hidden.”

“Nice poetry.”

Joyce strolled around the bed for a few seconds in thought, her mind frozen in the process of figuring out what to do. Finally, she spoke once more with a determined voice.

“What do I get from joining in your little club?”

“We will assist you with finding your family.”

“Is that a guarantee, or a promise?” Joyce asked while staring right into Light’s fiery eyes.

They both stood there for a while in complete silence, no sounds but the light on the roof of the store. A light flickered a bit, turning the room dark for half a second, the only light in that half second being the fire of Light’s eyes. With a heavy hit to his chest with his hand, Light broke the silence. The impact moved his robe a bit, showing off his gnarly dead hands. He fell to a knee and looked down, as if showing respect to royalty.

“I swear this unto you with my strongest vow.” He pulled off the robe on his other arm, full revealing both to the dismay of Joyce who felt mildly disgusted. Suddenly, a bright flash of light blinded her, piercing her eyes as she turned away in surprise, hiding her eyes behind her hands. The light dispersed quickly, and she put down her hands. Light had burned a mark on his dead hand. The mark was of a square that had lines coming out at the edges, the lines joining together in a circle. In the center of the square was what seemed to be an eye; it was hard to see on the grey flesh. Joyce sighed loudly and scratched her head

“I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get, and you don’t seem like a guy who would lie about it considering you burnt your own skin.” Light rose up from his knee as she spoke. He gestured his arm for them to leave.

And so they did.

I'll be honest, I think Light misses the idea of sleeping.

Quote from Azure

No, I'm not looking to kill any of you guys. Yet.

Quote from Azure

No, I'm not looking to kill any of you guys. Yet.

Quote from devi

1v1 me m8