[color=#5D6265]
[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180321/946f56189697e60fb9a60de2fe01da0b.png[/img]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/LpmjG6P.jpg[/img]
[url=https://youtu.be/iywaBOMvYLI][sub]Eating seeds as a pastime activity
The toxicity of our city, of our city[/sub][/url][/center][hr][hr][b]THE SWELTERING SUMMER HEAT[/b] and humidity made Tommy Patrick’s day job just a little bit harder. After spending a little above three hours running around under the beaming sun, the young woman’s skin had turned from its usual cool, caramel color to an even deeper, slightly red, tone. Her hair, which had been tied up into a ponytail before she set out for the day, had begun to frizz from her profuse sweating; the same sweat had run down the length of her body, soaking through her light gray wife beater and coming to an uncomfortable rest inside of her damp sneakers. It was in that moment, as Tommy made her way back towards her apartment building in the outskirts of New Osaka, that she wished she’d remembered to put on a pair of socks before she left. 

Slung around her shoulder was a large duffel bag; it was nearly empty now with the exception of a few water bottles and a spare pair of shoes to make it seem as though she'd just come from the gym, but had previously been filled to its capacity with severed left and right arms. Tommy had started off her day the same as any other: she woke up at the crack of dawn, showered, got dressed, and headed down to the abandoned warehouse, which was nestled just a little ways away from the Lisden and Korven border and was where her usual team conducted the majority of their business. [i]The Collectors[/i] is what they called themselves, even though Tommy thought that it was a pretty stupid name for a bunch of limb amputators. Unfortunately, that name didn’t have as great of a ring to it as the former. Nevertheless, Tommy went along with it all; she was always where she needed to be, machete and glock tucked away on her person and a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder. At seven o’clock on the dot, she’d arrive at the warehouse to meet [url=https://78.media.tumblr.com/99936891a079f32c884f8dddf70d899a/tumblr_nynpk2E2Fz1rp3vxko1_500.jpg]The Boss[/url] before pairing up with another Collector and heading out to Lisden where they did the unthinkable.

In Lisden she was a monster; not only did she help murder dozens of Lisden residents, but she also aided in their dismemberment. In fact, she'd gotten even better at it as time went on; she knew how to capture them without having to put up much of a fight, she knew how to sever their arms without being coated in blood in the process, and she knew how to dispose of the bodies so that they wouldn't be found for another couple of days. Tommy had learned all of this and more in a span of four years. Tommy did not know to whom most the arms she’d collected were being sold as they were usually being handled by another Collector, but she didn’t question it as long as she got her money at the end of it all. As promised, one hundred bucks had been deposited into her bank account when the job was finished; that was all she really cared about. In her head, she calculated how much money would be coming out of her bank account for her share of the rent before deciding that she had more than enough left over to grab a few drinks at the bar and maybe even a dime bag from a local dealer. 
 
When Tommy stepped foot into her shabby apartment it was unusually silent, the only noise coming from the small television set that was mounted on the living room wall. Letting out a sigh, the young woman threw her duffel bag onto the floor next to the door and plopped down onto the couch, letting her head rest against the cushions. She'd only had her eyes closed for a few minutes before someone came storming through the front door. "Did you hear about what happened?" Tasha Patrick said as she slammed the door shut, causing Tommy to jump.

[color=#403489]"Good afternoon to you too, sis,"[/color] Tommy said. Tasha, as usual, ignored her sister and took a seat next to her on the sofa. [color=#403489]"Hear about what?"[/color]

"The fires! They're literally talking about it on the TV, idiot." As Tasha spoke, she pulled the remote control from between the seat cushions and turned up the volume. Sure enough, the face of the president of MorCo popped onto the screen, his voice filling the silence and growing louder as Tasha turned up the volume. Tommy listened as their asshole of a leader addressed the fires, claiming that "mother nature" had struck again. When he said that, Tommy's sister groaned and rolled her eyes. "He knows damn well that this wasn't the work of [i]mother nature[/i]." Even Tommy couldn't stop herself from chuckling and shaking her head at the mention of MorCold Central Air and Heating Systems.

[color=#403489]"Sure, throw in an advertisement. That's obviously more important than your people who are dying and losing their homes."[/color] As Tommy spoke, she stood from her seat on the sofa and headed towards the front door, not wanting to listen any further. [color=#403489]"I'm going out, don't wait up."[/color] Before waiting for a response from her sister, Tommy walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. The last thing she wanted to think about the raging fires that had popped up within the last few hours, or the blank faces of her victims as she hacked away at their bodies with a rusty machete. So she headed down the street towards the bar, the only place where she could escape from the troubles of everyday life all while drinking her weight in beer. 
[/color]