#boomdeadshot

boom-deadshot started following you

Hm?  You don't look like you're from around here.

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thepittfiend started following you

Mird, Vau's golden-furred pet strill, was intently fascinated with the other's hound.  Thankfully not so much that all caution was thrown to the wind, as there was a very primal sense of suspicion between both animals and masters.  

"Well, this is interesting.  You don't see too many barves like us looking after pets these days." 

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deadypoostrikesback started following you

I think you're quite possibly the only one other than mando'ade that shows such blatant disregard to stealth, as far as garb goes.  Can only hope your skills can prove the same. 

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veiledregrenade started following you

I suppose it's useless in asking who you are, considering the circles you likely deal with ... ?  

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lunaticstar started following you

(( about time, luni.  xDDDD jk ))

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seraphicskitty started following you

The pistol felt heavy in his hand, as if carrying the weight of the decision he had to make. Floyd had never questioned his contracts in the past. It did not matter where, when, or who, he did what needed to be done. Even when fear filled the eyes of his victims, he did not feel a thing - no sadness, no empathy, no compassion. 

Sound asleep on his bed was the only woman, the only person, that he had cared for in the fake life he led. They had grown close over the years, and he often thought of what his life would be like with her if he was free of his binds. He never expected that he would be her executioner.

Floyd had received the call the night prior. It had been raining, typical London, and he was driving home from work. He was supposed to have killed her then, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Even now, he still struggled, his hand shaking as he held his finger on the trigger.

He had been standing there for an hour now, unable to pull the trigger and end his love's life. The voice on the phone echoed in his head, every word crystal clear. 

"You never miss, Grave."

Floyd's grip tightened on the gun. He was a soldier and his mission was to serve the Motherland. Where others failed, he succeeded. When others broke, he remained strong. Backing out was not an option. 

Tears streamed down his face as he steadied the pistol, the barrel pointed at his partner's head. He had to do it - for Russia. 

“As in we need to talk, face-to-face. Meet me at the South Gotham docks at 8 o’clock tonight, and don’t be late for your own sake.”

"Um... Ok then..." He said, shrugging before walking off.