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Jobs

Storm

As Sawyer is walking us with the biker, his confident yellow aura shifts into a rainbow of colors. The feminine spirit that was attached to him is gone, which seems to have triggered a metamorphosis, as signified by his colorful aura.

The Death Kings have been looking to recruit him, so he must be a killer with morals. The murder twins don’t like many people, so this is unusual for them. The Mamba King willing to take in take in a teenage boy and a six-year-old boy tells me he has morals.

I like him, but I don’t want to. I want to rip his hand off for daring to touch my woman. She doesn’t belong to him. She belongs to Tempest. That’s what the cave dweller part is shouting, anyway. The enlightened portion of me knows she wasn’t mine to begin with. She is a person and belongs only to herself. She isn’t a possession, no matter how much I want to own her.

“You look in thought. What’s on your mind, Clyde?” Sawyer asks, sitting next to me on the grass with Riggs next to her.

“You as a
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