06-27-2019, 06:51 PM
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]Wolfsbane wasn’t sure of the relationships the major groups had with one another. He knew basics- who was enemies with who- but he didn’t know of their histories or current standings. Nevertheless, Bane had chosen to invite all major groups he had heard of to Los Santos’ introduction event. Hopefully these groups would maintain peace, and the only drama would be in the spirit of competition. Still, the man knew he could not control the tides, and so he worried about this possibility.
The man stood upon the border of the Badlands, wooden bat full of nails swaying slightly from his belt. He eyed the territory, wary of any overly aggressive members, a small basket in his hand full of supplies such as painkillers, bandages, fresh fruits, canned foods, and a bottle of whiskey. â€ÂI’m here to deliver an invitation,†The man announced, having learned it was always smart to state his peaceful intentions when he had a bat full of nails attached to his belt.
The man stood upon the border of the Badlands, wooden bat full of nails swaying slightly from his belt. He eyed the territory, wary of any overly aggressive members, a small basket in his hand full of supplies such as painkillers, bandages, fresh fruits, canned foods, and a bottle of whiskey. â€ÂI’m here to deliver an invitation,†The man announced, having learned it was always smart to state his peaceful intentions when he had a bat full of nails attached to his belt.
[align=center][div style="text-align:center; font-family:georgia; font-size:10pt; line-height:102%;"][i]A SHARD OF GLASS IN MY MOUTH
TURNING MY TONGUE INTO RIVERS
AND STORIES OF BLOOD
TURNING MY TONGUE INTO RIVERS
AND STORIES OF BLOOD