Try To Fucking Remember

❝ You think what I'm doing is some fucking game? ❞ His temper, something he had found increasingly difficult to control over time. Leather clad hands gripped together in tight fists and the purple caped man turned on his heel to face the other. ❝ What I'm doing isn't a fucking game. ❞

As he focused his gaze intently onto the blonde man standing before him, a wave of realization hit Mysterion. Sure, it had been -- what, a decade -- since he had come face to face with Gregory Lancaster, but he'd recognize the smug, arrogant face anywhere. Slicked blonde hair, and an air of superiority. He was right to think this person was no friend of his.

❝ It's no business of yours why I am out so late. This city needs me, that is why after a two year absence, I've returned. ❞ With a far calmer tone, but with the same level of assertiveness lingering in his voice, Mysterion decided to adopt a more level-headed approach. This guy, most certainly, could not be trusted.

What Mysterion found more intriguing was how did this man know who he was? A friend -- or an enemy? Anyone who knew his 'true' identity, whatever that may be now, was certainly no friend of Mysterion's. He'd have to tread cautiously, and allude the situation quickly.

❝ I'm afraid you have the wrong person. ❞ His voice was coarse, and harsh as he spoke, and the words flew from his tongue and struck like venom. 

❝ I-- am Mysterion. ❞ Mysterion made sure to pause briefly before announcing his identity. The identity that only ever mattered to him, or anyone, anymore. ❝ And you, citizen, shouldn't be out among these streets this late at night. ❞ 

I’ll randomly generate a number from 1-31 to see how your muse interrupts mine! Mixture of safe & nsfw.