||[Jun. 10th, 2004|05:44 pm]
Here he was, standing out side the muscle league, ready to mount an assault… and he couldn’t do it, he was so confident in his abilities he hadn’t bothered to wear his armor, merely sporting a white shirt and a pair of jeans and of cause the + marked worker’s helmet that had become his trade mark, but now standing there, in front of the Muscle Leaguer’s head quarters… he just couldn't do anything.
After a moment he sighed, annoyed with himself “They ain’t worth my time anyway.” He turned and walked away from the building, burying his hands into his pockets and just walking, not really aiming on ending up anywhere. He never thought it would come to this, him not wanting to spill blood, sick of his victims’ screams of pain, bored with the knowledge that he had rid the earth of another annoying human… he was tired of the killing.
He too soon found himself at the dMp’s head quarters; just had Mantaro had all those weeks before. He chuckled, lifting his helmet in one hand so he could scratch his head. “So this is the dMp’s HQ, eh? Well… with a sign like that they’re just askin' fer trouble from the Muscle League.”
[Tag: who ever.]