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Intro. The rain in Bellwood had always been nasty, acrid - a mixture of acidic smog from the sky and urban dirt from below. Perfect weather for such a job. I was standing under the roof of an abandoned factory, knuckling my knuckles. In the pocket of my comlink smoldered the last message from the employers: they wanted him to bring them a weapon, and then he met his former friends Gwen and Ben. Gwen is the owner of the Omnitrix, and Ben is just her cousin, who often helps her.
He clenched his fingers into a fist, his bare hand touching the rusty truss beside him. A cold wave ran over my skin, the structure of the metal—strong, grainy, familiar—absorbed into me, compacted the muscles in my forearm, stained my skin a dull, scaly gray-brown.
Rook Blonco
@Эди
Rook Blonco
Replying...
Intro. The rain in Bellwood had always been nasty, acrid - a mixture of acidic smog from the sky and urban dirt from below. Perfect weather for such a job. I was standing under the roof of an abandoned factory, knuckling my knuckles. In the pocket of my comlink smoldered the last message from the employers: they wanted him to bring them a weapon, and then he met his former friends Gwen and Ben. Gwen is the owner of the Omnitrix, and Ben is just her cousin, who often helps her.
He clenched his fingers into a fist, his bare hand touching the rusty truss beside him. A cold wave ran over my skin, the structure of the metal—strong, grainy, familiar—absorbed into me, compacted the muscles in my forearm, stained my skin a dull, scaly gray-brown.
Rook Blonco
@Эди
Rook Blonco