[center][url=https://i.ibb.co/d5jZw5B/Blacklion.jpg][img]https://i.ibb.co/Z165K82/vancebar.jpg[/img][/url]
[color=8d8d8d][b]Location:[/b] Winter Festival[/color] | [color=8d8d8d][b]Interactions:[/b] Open[/color][/center]

Vance's eyes stared straight ahead, boring through the moving images of students, families and general patrons as they scurried from one carnival attraction to the other.  His elbows were propped on the picnic table upon which he sat while his paws rested under his chin, taking on the full weight of his head while his neck rested limp.  His body was an unmoving statue, but his mind was racing at furious speed.  

Each side of Vance's double-life were in a constant conflict for his attention and, as of late, The Student was losing its battle to The Enforcer.  Even though it was just a short while, it felt like he hadn't been back to campus in months.  Extra curricular not-so-legitimate activities had increased dramatically and it felt like Vance's phone was constantly summoning him away to address some form of seedy business that could not wait or be passed on to anyone else in the Ebonlock's syndicate.

The thought of "free time" seemed like a mythical notion.  There was no free time, just the short pauses between one job to the next.

As he continued to sit, part of him wondered how long it would be until his phone chirped again.  How many minutes until he would be called away to get his hands dirty?  Was this a glimpse of the rest of his life?  Is this how his father, the notorious [url=https://i.ibb.co/YQMyphz/lionDad.jpg]Magnus Ebonlock[/url], started out in his early career?

After having settled a morning collection run, Vance's attention was quickly caught by the appearance of the Winter Festival.  The wandering masses seemed to move in unison toward the event and the young lion allowed himself to ride along with the current and drift in toward this social gathering filled with chit chat and laughter.  Perhaps the company of jubilant people could snap him out of his funk, he thought.  And so there he sat alone at the picnic table waiting for his environment to help regrow his sanity.

"[b]Hey, there fella![/b]" came an sudden intrusion into Vance's earshot.  With a few rapid blinks and an uncomfortably abrupt return to reality, Vance cocked his head over to the voice.  Before him stood a festively dressed frog with a bullhorn in his hand pointed directly at the lion.  "[b]What say you come on up and take a swing,[/b]" the frog suggested aggressively before presenting the High Striker setup behind him.  Take a sledge hammer, hit the target, see if you can make the puck shoot up high enough to hit the bell at the very top.  If you succeeded, your victory would sound out in an infamously satisfying [i]DING![/i]

"[color=8d8d8d]No thanks,[/color]" Vance mumbled, ready to reenter his zombified state of constant internal thought.

"[b]Oh, I see,[/b]" the carnival barker mused.  "[b]From here, it looked like you were a black lion.  Obviously, I was wrong.  You're nothing but yellow.[/b]"

The last word created a spark within Vance.  As if a switch has been flicked, Vance's pupils immediately grew, nearly enveloping his entire eyeball.  His hands tightened into fists as his claws systematically protruded from the ends of his digits, embedding into his own palms.    With low rumbled huff, Vance sprung to life, pulled himself out of the picnic table and seized the sledge hammer.  With one arm, and what appeared to be a significant amount of ease, Vance brought the hammer down on its target with a thunderous boom.  The inner puck raced skyward and violently clashed with the bell at its peak.

The frog's jaw was slacked as he witnessed the display.  His amphibious eyes soon descended back onto the lion whom he found was already staring right back at him with two onyx orbs that warned of imminent danger to follow.  

"[b]Okay, okay, m-my bad...[/b]" the frog stammered, raising his hands up in a means of surrender.  "[b]Go ahead, take a prize... F-free of charge[/b]" he insisted.  "[b]Please, take the giant stuffed human.  Two of them, even! Just... uh... don't do anything rash, alright? This is supposed to be a celebration and all...[/b]"

Vance's adrenaline began to recede, followed by the diameter of his pupils.  Nonchalantly, he dropped the sledgehammer to the ground and shook his head for a moment, trying to rattle away his aggression.  Gradually it seemed to work.  Without taking any prizes or speaking any words, Vance turned and left the annoying carny.  He refused to allow himself to become [i]that guy[/i]. That scary version of himself.  He wanted to laugh, to love, to have fun and just be Joe Average.  What he was feeling more, lately, was a transformation that was beginning to prove he was his father's son.

A stinging sensation in his hands managed to break his concentration.  Looking at them, he rolled his eyes and let our an exasperated sigh.  A small trickle of blood was coming out of his hands in a couple of spots were his claws had penetrated his own skin.  "[color=8d8d8d]Perfect,[/color]" he said sarcastically while scanning the fair grounds.  Soon his sight fell on what appeared to be a medical tent.  [color=8d8d8d][i]They're bound to have [/i]something [i]that can clean this up[/i][/color], he thought to himself.  And with that, he began his stride.