[hr][hr][center][h1][color=Purple]Agent Waverley Watts - Feedback[/color][/h1][img]https://newyorkstyleguide.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/nos4a2-gallery-maggie-smith-2-700x1000-1.jpg[/img][hr]
[color=Purple][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Palace
[color=Purple][b]Skills:[/b][/color][/center][hr][hr]
As Agent Watts watched the battlefield overhead like some sort of free-for-all chess game, she caught something strange out the corner of her eye, or rather, the camera’s eye. She wasn’t sure what it was at first, so she focused her attention on it. She quickly recognize it as some sort of arrow, and attempted to fly out of the way, but it was too late. And as she attempted to switch over to her other drone, she felt that it, too, was gone. Agent Watts pulled her focus away from the radio waves around her, the map room fading back into sight. She gritted her teeth in annoyance, breathing a deep breath through her nose. She tucked her hand into her suit jacket, pulling out her gun and holding it in both hands as she walked with purpose towards through the door and into the palace halls. 

That purpose was short-lived, however, when a wave of peace washed over her. Her angry face melted off, revealing one of exhaustion and disappointment. She stopped in her tracks, blinking in confusion, before letting out a sigh and dropping her gun. She sat down on the ground, her back against the palace wall, as she picked her gun back up, looking down on it and absentmindedly feeling the well-crafted barrel. Her face was one of doped up sorrow, like a pothead who just lost their dog, not knowing that it’s just in the other room. 

[color=Purple]”Who even uses arrows anymore?”[/color] Waverley lamented, turning the pistol over in her hand.[color=Purple] “Just get a fucking gun...”[/color]