Member
Sugar Princess
FaithfulMuse
Plank Sinatra
Since his run in with Vixen, Victor hadn't found any other crimes occurring. Even Ankora had its slow nights. He knew that just a few blocks away there was probably a mugging or robbery in progress, there always seemed to be in this city, but with no clues to lead him to the crime scene like a gunshot or a scream there was no way he could possibly find it. The night was also nearing its end as there were only a few more hours until morning. It was time the hero headed home, though at least he had the day off from work.
Arriving in his small one room apartment through the open window, having sold his large house after the divorce as he no longer made enough income to keep it, the vigilante pulled off his mask and threw it into the corner. The rest of his costume soon followed before he sat down at his desk. Before him was an empty page, another letter he planned on sending to his kids. With each message he sent, the more hopeless Victor became. Ever since he began this routine he had never received a reply back. Even still, it wouldn't hurt to try one more time.
"Dear Wesley and Cynthia..."
Victor would awaken the next morning still in his desk. He had been so tired that, after finishing the last paragraph, the enticing embrace of sleep finally took its toll on him. Cracking his neck and back to help ease the knot he felt in both from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position, he rose from his chair and changed into a clean set of clothes. Shit, it's already the afternoon. I need to start bringing a watch with me on my patrols. With that, the vigilante left to deliver the letter and get a few other errands done.
Arriving in his small one room apartment through the open window, having sold his large house after the divorce as he no longer made enough income to keep it, the vigilante pulled off his mask and threw it into the corner. The rest of his costume soon followed before he sat down at his desk. Before him was an empty page, another letter he planned on sending to his kids. With each message he sent, the more hopeless Victor became. Ever since he began this routine he had never received a reply back. Even still, it wouldn't hurt to try one more time.
"Dear Wesley and Cynthia..."
Victor would awaken the next morning still in his desk. He had been so tired that, after finishing the last paragraph, the enticing embrace of sleep finally took its toll on him. Cracking his neck and back to help ease the knot he felt in both from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position, he rose from his chair and changed into a clean set of clothes. Shit, it's already the afternoon. I need to start bringing a watch with me on my patrols. With that, the vigilante left to deliver the letter and get a few other errands done.
