[hider=Real World][center][b]Richie Barret[/b][/center] Richie didn't sleep much that night, sure he would doze off for a hour or so, but for the most part his mind refused to shut down. There was just too much running through it, too many new possibilities and a flickering hope that he could actually redeem himself and take back his throne. Of course his meeting with the Orange King had inspired all of that, he would have been stuck without anything to go on otherwise. Morning came as he paced his room for what felt like the thousandth time, the flickering of the sun through his window bringing with it a solid train of thought for the young man. He needed to portray someone he wasn't, he needed to be someone who was more interested in power and all that entailed. He would need to learn from someone like that to pull off the ruse of wanting to join the Black Guild. Only one person came to mind, and as much as he hated to admit it, she was the one who could have avoided these sorts of situations. White Terror, the previous White King, and the very person he tried to not become. Now, it couldn't be helped. If he wanted to make it out of the plan with his guild and crown once more, he would need to be like her. With that thought, he moved over to his computer, quickly searching up her username on the forums. While not exactly expecting to find much, Richie was hoping to find at least something that could help him understand how she thought. Why she could smile and flaunt herself to every other guild like she was invincible, because in the end she wasn't. He was hoping to avoid such a fate for himself. He briefly wondered what she would say about the state of things, about the guild she built up only for him to knock down. Hopefully she wouldn't be cursing him from wherever she had ended up, he [i]was[/i] going to save her legacy and the people he wanted to protect. He just needed to use her memory like the Black King and her guild were destroying the other guilds, ruthlessly and meticulously. Weaponize it, until it was not just an Ivory Mask, but the last thing Moon Rider would see before he.....Well, he didn't quite know that part yet. It would be something fitting at least. A ping coming from his messages broke the young man out of his reverie, He curiously switched tabs to take a look, only to feel an instant sense of rage and regret fill him anew. There were two messages waiting for him, one of which was detailing the identity of the Black King, and the other from the supposed Black King himself. He wanted the Kings of the alliance to meet up in the old gym. He wasn't a King at the moment, at least not in the eyes of those that mattered. He wasn't going to go, he had his mission to focus on. Switching his tabs once more with only a huff of annoyance, he continued to read.[/hider] [hider=DGO] [center][b]Stalwart Bruiser-White King[/b][/center]An hour or so into his 'studying', Richie decided to take a half dive into the game. Keeping his mind focused on White Terror and her last words in the forums, while Bruiser began to drive 'Scythe' once more in auto-mode. Richie felt another surge of emotion at seeing his title still attached to his avatar, but Bruiser's hands felt more sturdy and in control than they did out of game. It was a simple comfort, one he leaned on as his eyes trailed over both a line of text from White Terror and a road leading into the Strykers' territory. Richie tried to focus on reading rather than the changing surroundings outside of Bruiser's stolen vehicle. It soon became too hard to ignore however, switching out of 50/50 mode for a full dive. While it did help to calm with nerves, his mind was still reeling with White Terror's words. Trying to remember anything of how she held herself. He was going to need it as his destination grew closer. Something was off however, even from the distance he was at, he could practically feel the devastation raining down on where he was going, before he saw it himself. At first, he was more than overjoyed to see such a spectacle, especially to those who had deserved it. And yet, he couldn't help but feel wrong about it. The same kind of wrong he felt last night with the Orange King. Parking 'Scythe' somewhere hopefully hidden, Bruiser continued to watch until things began to die down. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he began to drive forward once more. Soon finding himself creeping along [i]her[/i] streets, staring out at the destruction. As he stared silently, Bruiser started to understand Terror a bit more. You can't build yourself up unless you were actually willing to fight everyone for it. She was trying to save the Ivory Masks through her hoarding and hedonism. Power, that's what she wanted. Maybe not all the time, but he understood it's importance in things then and things now. Grimacing, Bruiser stopped the war machine just as he was about to get a glimpse of the Black Guild Hall. He had seen enough devastation brought on by his own hands to realize nothing would be left standing soon. He'd rather not stay to find out what would happen to him if one of the attacking guilds found him. Turning 'Scythe' around he began to compose a message to the one person he'd never thought he would. - - - From: Stalwart Bruiser To: Moon Rider Subject: Ivory Mask Is Slipping I'm not good with words, not really. I've just seen your territory fall, and it's....Wrong. I've done something stupid to myself, and I don't know how to make it right again. I think you do though, Blackie. And, I don't want to beg for your help...But, that's what I'm going to do. If you want to meet up, I'll be waiting for you near my screw up. Don't worry about missing me, I'll be there waiting. - - - Bruiser didn't bother to watch the small icon blink as his message was sent. There was too much on his mind, too little time to get it all sorted out. He just let the ride take his mind for sometime, he still had some time to go before going back to White Territory, he was going to use it to read up on Terror some more. [/hider]