Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-29194274-20170411053034/@comment-27661770-20170411172832

Jack Baker woke up on a fien, if muggy, Louisiana swamp morning.

A few trolls were still asleep. One, a new addition, was rtunning around trying to apprehend some random thief (and not one from Sgrub, either). One was muttering about how they should shut the fuck up. One was slumped and half-buried in a pile of Faygo. One was nestled in towels.

Elsewhere, a biomech cracked his neck, ready for the day.

A freelance reporter stumbled, waking up to find himself alive again.

A green bear silently avoided a Vietnam flashback.

A mother of three children sighed as one pestered her.

A young teen watched a fire with his sunglasses on. Somewhere, there was a laughable level of irony.

?A dark being sat in the shadows of a computer, ready to strike.

A scientist prayed to god that something he had helped bring to death wouldn't rise again. As he had every day since he'd defeated it.

A young Irish man looked at a financial adversary, while his bodyguard watched the room's occupants.

A mobster lit a cigarette.

A clock hop[ed his time wouldn't tick away.

And a man stuck in an evil haunted house swung forth, chopping things to the ground.