[Center][h3][Color=OrangeRed]CROSSFIRE[/Color][/h3][/Center]

Suicide is the third leading cause of death amongst all teenagers. Chris hadn't had the easiest life, having spent a recent bit of his time twiddling his thumbs in the slammer, but he knew that that wasn't how he was going to go out. Unfortunately, as a mangled mess of imported oil and metal crashed into the asphalt next to him, he had a hard time deciding if his passing would be ruled as a car accident or a homicide.

As the beast turned from him, he turned tail and hightailed his hide out of harm's way, scurrying around the corner and contenting himself to watch. Turns out the guy had fire resistance. That was on Chris. He should've been aware that hellfire never had left the slightest hint of a harm on ol' brimstone. Somebody with skin, though, that he could be useful for. Skin burns and blisters and scars and nobody likes having that done. It just so happens that this here beastie boy was built different from day one.

As the music played, Chris finally broke free from his petrification and shimmied back to the relative safety of a different direction. The way he saw things, he could try using his brimstream to create pressure and make cars explode but the fact of the matter was that he lacked the forthright precision and majesty of force that his lizard companion had. [i]May as well go be useless someplace else[/i], he thought as he stumbled away from the fray, back to the coffee shop while he waited for a better idea to brew. No sense in burning down the neighborhood. [i]The ASA would just love that[/i].