l<a class="postlink-local" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=18&amp;t=374">viewtopic.php?f=18&amp;t=374</a>l<br/><br/>Tyson sat in the crowd, uncomfertable as he was sitting next to and old couple on each side. His large arms crossing his chest in attempt to make himself smaller, tho the effort didnt work much for they were still touching him,<span style="font-style: italic"> Damned women</span>. Older women scared him, with their wrinkly skin and the way their bodies slumpt over from years of labor. Their hair had grown grainy and would dust tothe touch. They were walking dead that the grim reaper is just watching, laughing his ass off as they try to enjoy their last breaths of this chaotic world.<br/><br/>The newest graduates strolled out in ceromony robes and he looked in the crowed for the one he was getting. A folder lay on his lap displaying a photo and files concerning his next protegsie. He was little thrilled to be getting a new one. He was quiet fond of his last one, tho he had excelled fast and was assighed to his own graduate. He than saw the kid he was assighed and got up from his seat taking the folder into his hands than walked down the aile as well as other luteniets to esscort thier new protegies to their new bunkers.