Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-933831-20140512031528

It was one of those situations once again... Stjarnstill found himself pulling his hand from a store owner's chest, his aura preventing the blood from getting all over him. He stood upright, picking up the food he'd placed on the counter as he killed the clerk. Bastards, thinking to make a god pay for food... They should pay him for the very privilidge of having him in their filthy mortal shop.

Picking up the bag of chips, Stjarnstill walked from the store, making it a fair distance away before hearing sirens approaching the store. He shrugged, continuing down the street. 