Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28920015-20171217171524/@comment-27661770-20171221001527

"We're missing a MacAllister!"

John sighed.

"Not like them. This ain't cult work. I know them, they'd have to be dragged form their seats most of the time to go home during a tense situation. Evidently they decided that hedgefuck was a big enough reason to go somewhere else, normally this place would be buzzing."

In the relatively nearby throne room, a scarcely-sat-on throne was gathering dust. John had too many things to do to sit down. A modest picture of him sat beside it, no bigger than a bedside photo. On the throne was the scrap-metal crown, made of bent iron and steel.

A quiet room for a quiet king. He considered any task that could be useful to keeping the nation from collapsing one that demanded he not sit down, form the big things such as wars to the small things such as a power outage.

A little bit of a micromanager but dammit he was given this even if he didn't want it.

He'd make damn sure he was a good choice.