Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-17970636-20131121235443/@comment-11588669-20131128062752

He sighed, crouched atop a building. Weapon gripped, perring through the sights at his target. A silencer was placed on the assault rifle, and a bipod for maximum stability. An exhale, and the squeeze of a trigger...

The retort was silent, but the result wasn't. He detatched the bipod and silencer, and slug the rifle over his shoulder. He exited the rooftop as a women's scream rang out. It was a pastry shop, where pies were on display, and some were being eaten.

He nodded to the shop owner, and met with the client. A quick transaction later, and he walked away 3,000 Lien richer. Through all of it, has face was impassive, the scar contributing to the image. His hair was dark, cut short, with streaks of midnight blue. His eyes, of the same coloration, with a slight ring of amber around the pupil.

A large knife rested on his hip, and a pistol on the other. Bracers clad his forearms, and combat boots wrapped around his feet. He had a dark blue hoody on, with jeans, and you could barely see a black shirt on underneath.

Police stormed past the building, and the mercenary took the oppertunity to see who all was in the bakery. He scanned everyone, and didn't see anyone he knew. He looked through the room again, and saw a girl. Slight build, she seemed to blend into the background. And she was young enough to go to Beacon. Which complicated things.

He was a student there as well, but rarely saw her. Either way, if she knew what he looked like, and what his occupation was...she wouldn't condone it. At least, that was the experience.

"Shit." Noctum Ambrosius Caeruleus muttered out. "I really didn't need this today."