[center][img]https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Af2_uwssDH4/Vu1QBS7sPSI/AAAAAAAAFOM/WcDP5680H70/w480-h687/FB_IMG_1458336737887.jpg[/img]

[h1][color=a0410d] Raylan Elisha Wilcox [/color][/h1]
[i][u]Location: Basement [/u] 
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Raylan tossed down his last cigarette and stomped it out. He took a deep breath and headed towards the entrance of the basement. He passed for a moment, he really didn't want to do this. Another deep sigh and he left for a fresh cup of coffee. 

It didn't take long for Raylan to get to where he was supposed to be. Raylan knew these halls very well. Whenever Frank grounded him, this was one of the places he spent the most time. He trained more than he did almost as much as anything… Almost. There was only two things that could ever take president over training. 

As he walked into the meeting the room he instantly saw Grace, he could have done without her being the first thing he saw. Raylan flopped into an empty lounge chair and winced ever so slightly. One would have to be watching him very close to see it. He could feel his heartbeat in his brusies. 

Raylan gave a lazy wave and looked at each one of them. They all looked so down about being here. He wondered what bullshit excuse they were going to give about it. Raylan flat out did not like many people, he especially hated new people he didn't know. He hated those psychics the most. When he was done looking them over, his eyes found two people that stood out. Two girls for lack of a better word, one with black hair that seemed to be attached to Frank at the hip. The other was a was smiling, she one of those ‘I got to be the most popular in the whatever’ types. Raylan had a gift for picking those types out, they made his life a living hell after his father stabbed him. “Frank. What's with the growth?” Raylan said pointing at the dark hair.