[h1] [center] Drake The Dragonslayer [/center] [/h1]
[@Holy Soldier]

Drake would stumble forward as he was pushed aside by a passing sibling. The left eye of Drake would snap and twitch in irritation as he stood up to see the back of the perpetrator walk to take a seat. He would thrust his hand forward, wanting so badly to roast such insolence away from existence, but he quickly pulled back and prevented himself from carrying out his inner demons, yet he could swear their was something like whispers convincing him to slaughter the fool.

Drake took out his stress ball from his coat pocket, taking a seat in the front row as he vigorously squeezed the item to seemingly no end. His eyes concentrated forward as he refused to let any more of his siblings irritate him, less the auditorium go up smoke. He waited for this little meeting to start and be over with, though deep down he was a bit anxious to be leaving to fight. The thought hadn't really sunk into him yet, but anxiety was building up none the less. This caused him to squeeze his stress relief toy even further.