Post by kromruler101 on May 5, 2007 0:55:39 GMT -5
{Timeline of the Prohabition 1930's}
(He used to go by Lock, Cyrus T. Lock, aka "Judge Lock". He's rumored to be dead only after over 20 grizzly murders. After he got his fake identity, he resides in his high class hideaway apartment. He goes by Torrence T. Myers, for now...)
He sharpens his 12 inch ww2 trench knife with custom brass knucks on the handle and lays it on his bed along with many other blades. He likes to be quiet when he takes his victims, so they'll have to be perfectly sharp, to slice swift and clean. Always wears gloves, not just to hide his prints, but to keep him from the filth of the world around him. He can't stand the filth. He smells it everywhere he goes. He doesn't know it's all in his head.
He dresses in a nice suit all the time. Covers it in a black leather trench. A nice black mob hat with a beautiful red feather. Women adore this one. He's as clever and swift with his words as he is with his blades.
He arrives in a limo at a fancy restaurant called "The Malimua" It's one of the better places in town. The driver lets him out. Myers whisper to the driver to only come back when he calls and before the driver could answer he was gone. Myers sits at a lone table in the corner of the huge room and listens to the music of the live band playing. The place is rather full.
A sweet voice sings from the lips of the angel on stage. A waiter brings him his usual. Myers nods as he's handed the class. He sits and looks around for a victim and can't seem to choose. No choice but to wait patiently...
(He used to go by Lock, Cyrus T. Lock, aka "Judge Lock". He's rumored to be dead only after over 20 grizzly murders. After he got his fake identity, he resides in his high class hideaway apartment. He goes by Torrence T. Myers, for now...)
He sharpens his 12 inch ww2 trench knife with custom brass knucks on the handle and lays it on his bed along with many other blades. He likes to be quiet when he takes his victims, so they'll have to be perfectly sharp, to slice swift and clean. Always wears gloves, not just to hide his prints, but to keep him from the filth of the world around him. He can't stand the filth. He smells it everywhere he goes. He doesn't know it's all in his head.
He dresses in a nice suit all the time. Covers it in a black leather trench. A nice black mob hat with a beautiful red feather. Women adore this one. He's as clever and swift with his words as he is with his blades.
He arrives in a limo at a fancy restaurant called "The Malimua" It's one of the better places in town. The driver lets him out. Myers whisper to the driver to only come back when he calls and before the driver could answer he was gone. Myers sits at a lone table in the corner of the huge room and listens to the music of the live band playing. The place is rather full.
A sweet voice sings from the lips of the angel on stage. A waiter brings him his usual. Myers nods as he's handed the class. He sits and looks around for a victim and can't seem to choose. No choice but to wait patiently...
