Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20190114001113/@comment-30014014-20190202035724

Prad’s facial expression is not discernible, blotted by the rupture of smoke condensing out of his skin. He merely...adjusts.

Once more, he finds no strength or will to muster any parole. His mind is made up about this ‘trial’. Nothing more than a public humiliation for him, who knows no physical technique.

He didn’t care anymore...

With a grasp full of smoke, Prad sidesteps to the Man of metal, well aware of his commitment to failure. His mind, filled with the isolation he is to hear behind the armour, as to make up for this...toying.