[color=f26522][h1][b]Reaper[/b][/h1][/color]

The bike had been abandoned pretty quickly, it drew too much attention to be in the full get up driving around on a motorcycle. His Scythe sat on his back, the pole retracted as far as possible (Technology was impressive these days) and his traditional .45 was strapped to his hip. Almost as old as him himself, he smirked at the thought of that. In the past several people had leered at him for using such an antiquated weapon however they failed to realize it killed just the same and by him keeping it in the best condition possible it worked as good as the day it had came out of the factory. Guns these days had no personality, they were just an instrument for killing. [i]Kind of like me.[/i] This city, he'd heard about it from all over. The events of this so called "D-Day", things here needed to change. The Heroes here seemed unwilling to do so, so he'd do what needed to be done.

He jumped down through the fire escapes of the building he was atop, working his way lower and lower and sliding the ladder at the bottom to step down gently, he then walked into the front. The door unlocked, why would it be? Many had left this building in a hurry. Walking in he was immediately greeted by the Land Lord, a greasy fat stub of a man. Someone who looked like he wasn't used to having to do the manual labour however he doubted that the man could find much help for hire around after the events that transpired in the area. The mans entire stance changed, understandable. Gabe was almost six foot tall, dressed from head to toe in black and had a mask on. Thankfully his weapons weren't readily visible or he likely wouldn't have gotten the chance to speak.

"What do you want?" Gabe took a second to think on his words, then spoke in an obvious Texan accent, though there was something about it that was richer and more raw. [color=f26522]"I need a room. Nothing fancy, cash up front. No paper, no hassle. I'm gone if you get uncomfortable and people start asking questions."[/color] There was hesitation, anybody could see that. It was a tough deal, on one note he would have a paying (or another paying) tenant until he could get the place up and running. Though this was a stranger off the street wearing a helmet, and seemingly with no possessions. 

"Depends how much you're willing to pay." Gabe moved his arms under his coat, careful not to allow the gun to be seen (Not wanting this to seem like a threat) and pulled out a wad of cash. Literally all the cash he owned, two thousand, and handed it over to the man. [color=f26522]"Here is my deposit and my first months rent."[/color] He looked around the hall, the landlord would be lucky to get two hundred dollars a month for this place in this condition. He had to do better than that. [color=f26522]"Six hundred dollars a month from here on. Do we have a deal?"[/color] 

The man extended his hand slightly, recoiled but then took the cash. "Deal, let me show you to your room." He lead him up a flight of stairs onto the second floor, and pushed open a door with an obviously broken lock. "I'll fix the lock later-"[color=f26522]"No hurries."[/color] Gabe looked around the room, he had slept in worse places and this would work quite well. It was shelter from the elements and wouldn't really be the place that someone looked for a vigilante. Or so he thought, he was kind of new to this whole staying in one place thing. "Oh, and we got new tenants across the hall. If that's a problem-" 

Gabe just turned. [color=f26522]"No. It will be fine."[/color] He didn't want to raise too much suspicion after all. [color=f26522]"Now if you'd kindly excuse me. I've had a long journey."[/color] The man just nodded and left. When the door closed Gabe lifted of his helmet with a hiss, the cool air stinging his flesh. he walked over to the open door in which he could see a bath, on front of a cracked mirror and peered into his scarred face. Very little of his original handsome looks remained, no matter how much he hurt. How much he healed it was only ever to how he was before this started. It was only to keep him alive and in one piece. He sighed as he pulled the mirror, seeing if the Landlord had forgotten to loot anything and finding some bandages, and after that he began wrapping them around his face.

Pulling them tight to the point it caused pain he left enough room for him to see. He nodded to himself in the mirror. It was time to bring pain to those who caused it here in Lost Haven.