Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25924729-20160501033839

The boy in a white coat and had been drinking hard for the past two hours, and still going strong. His left arm was cradled in a clean bandage sling, and on the counter beside him was a veritable mountain of shot glasses, and every so often, he would hoot and sway uncertainly, like he was going to pass out any second.

Alone, drunk and injured, he stood out like a sore thumb, easy prey for the rest of the bar's patrons.

One group in particular, eyed him suspiciously, and whispered among themselves. They were all muscle bound faunus, and though none wore uniform or masks, were clearly White Fang agents. They radiated an sura of hostility and ill intent, directed at the boy. Everyone in the WF knew Lyko.

Traitor.

At last, he stood up shakily, tossed a bundle of lien at the barmaid, and staggered towards the exit, all while wearing a goofy grin on his face. Taking that as their cue, the White Fang goons stood in unison, and followed. Some cracked their knuckles, others pulled concealed weapons from their clothing.

They didnt see their target smirk cunningly to himself. That's right suckers, follow me, come to papa... 