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| They said this was a city for our kind, they said it was a safe haven from the rest of the world. This was suppose to be the city where we where safe from regular humans. But, in a city where Meta-Humans run rampant, is there such thing as safety? When taking what you want is as simple as waving your hand, or closing your eyes, how can there be law? In this city, the truth is there is only one source of law, and that are the different criminal organizations that have formed all around us. The only order is that of the darkest part of humanity, of criminal organizations where the strong thrive while the weak gasp for air. This is Niwa Nights.. This is our home. Can you survive it? REGISTER NOW! |
| Collateral Damage; [Nathan] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 13 2013, 07:15 PM (237 Views) | |
| Post #1 Dec 13 2013, 07:15 PM | Kitkat |
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The old man adjusted his spectacles, pushing them up the narrow bridge of his nose with a free hand before returning it to supporting the blanket-covered object slumped against his shoulder. Gray-brown eyes squinted, the age-worn wrinkles at their edges becoming more pronounced as he strained to see. His eyes finally settled on the elevator and slowly he shuffled toward it, his steps slow and sure. When he entered, pushed the button to the corresponding floor he desired and the door closed, he readjusted the precious package in his possession, shifting to the other shoulder. When the doors opened, a woman emerged, carrying the same blanket-strewn cargo the elderly man had brought in, but the elderly man had all but vanished. She had a look in her eyes, as if she'd been through hell and she was working up the strength to pull another facade over her face when she reached his door. Danica. Her light auburn hair was pulled up into a ponytail, bangs brushed across her forehead. Her eyes were dim, a fire starved of oxygen. All of the life seemed drained from them, but the rest of her features gave no way to the storm. She stopped, took a deep breath, glanced down the hallway, to the bundle in her arms, then to the door before her. The week had been enough torture; this was it. She held her breath and knocked. Please be home. OrsohelpmegodI'llkickdownthisdoor. |
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GUMMIEEEES
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Spoiler: click to toggle The mind of the subject will desperately struggle to create memories where none exist. 本条 利明 | |
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3:09 PM Jul 11
