[center][h1][color=f7941d]Paul Beaufort[/color][/h1]
[img]https://media1.tenor.com/m/6XQ-fSsAW-0AAAAd/gerard-butler-regulators.gif[/img]

[i]Location: West Caldwell Streets
Skills: N/A[/i][/center][hr][hr]
Paul’s hands gripped the wheel as his eyes moved across the street, listening to the conversation ardently with his window down.

The streets were empty and he couldn’t quite shake a feeling of uncertainty as Diane insisted to their daughter that they would go back to her apartment and tuck away until the military handled things. The same military that had lost an armored truck to civilians at the gas station they passed by? Something was off and he had no intention of listening to Diane nor telling her he was going to ignore her wishes. His daughter seemed to have some sense, recognizing the situation, and knowing that the best choice was the house he had bought to raise his family twenty or so years ago.

Diane would have to humor it. The walls that made her anxious, the ones that made her resent him. 

[color=f7941d]“Diane.”[/color] He managed, finally, [color=f7941d]“I don’t think this is the place to argue.”[/color]

He remained in the driver’s seat. 

[color=f7941d]“I have space for two other people if they need to get out of here.”[/color]