[h1][b][i][color=MediumSpringGreen][center]James Kingston[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/MKVmbk8X/image.png[/img][/center]
[hr]
[center][color=MediumSpringGreen][b]Location[/b][/color]: Mutant Underground Table -> Shi’Ar Bartender Setup
[color=MediumSpringGreen][b]Skills[/b][/color]: N/A[/center]

His concerns seeped away as Selene put on an amazing performance, unbothered as the world seemed to slip away with them. The weight of Casper on his lap, the sound of the others at the table, the rest of the mutants here celebrating and mourning in equal measure― none of it mattered except the woman singing on stage. This would normally alarm him but the feeling was quelled beneath a heavy blanket of apathy and when Selene’s performance ended…

James jolted back to awareness as the world spun before his eyes. He was staring at the sky, absolute pandemonium around him, and he frankly had no idea how he’d gotten there. The dull pain along his back suggested he’d been shoved but by who he didn’t know. There was the faint sense of pressure on his lips, the fading warmth of a body lingering still on his legs, and the shadow of concern and fear that vanished in the face of a more pressing issue: James had no idea where he was. This wasn’t where he was a minute ago. He couldn’t exactly remember where that was and in fact he couldn’t seem to recall much at the moment, but he did recall something important: Everyone here had to die. 

James took a step towards a strange mushroom table where a group of strangers were arming themselves. He paused as he prepared to lunge for them. Something in the back of his head was bothering him, some voice begging him to stop. James clicked his tongue at it and shook it off, taking another step before the voice came back, telling him about allies. He remembered there were friendly people nearby, he wasn’t alone in this. It made sense, the voice in the back of his head reasoned. James wasn’t meant to take on a large group of enemies. His strengths lay in his resistance, stamina, and support. He should find them so he would be more effective, the voice reasoned. 

James struggled to make a decision, eyeing the strangers in front of him. Now that he was considering it, James wanted nothing more than to tear them all to bits, fling their organs around like rags dolls, and gouge out their eyes with his fingers. It took everything he had to bring himself to heel. The voice, trick or not, was right. Allies would make it far easier to slaughter them all. James turned and ignored the table for now, heading off for the drinking area where the voice whispered his allies were, memorizing the faces of everyone around the table.

He’d make a game of killing them. 

[hider=Held roll]
Reactive Adaptation if attacked[/hider]