<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn2.teen.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/persia-20090308-jake-prince-of-persia.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>George Irons<br/><strong>Location:</strong>New York City, Natasha's apartment<br/><strong>Time:</strong>8:30 Am, May 30th 2016<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Natasaha (M), Laura (M), Leiyu (m), Gwen (m), Sam, Open.<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Leather Jacket (http://www.vansonleathers.com/events/week_at_vanson/TBIR_03.gif), Black T-shirt, Jeans (https://www.nrsworld.com/prodimages/1368-DEFAULT-l.jpg), Boots (https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41DK8D4DSWL.jpg)<br/><br/>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>Eleven days. eleven long claustrophobic days trapped within the island City of Manhattan. This could very well be one of the longest stints that George spent in any one place without a very specific reason. Why he stayed after that first day was still something he was trying to figure out. He was never one for "Teams", or getting chummy with people. Usually people didn't like hanging around a person that can transform into a 6' tall flaming Spirit of Vengeance that can see every black mark on your soul. The first night was...'Awkward to say the least. George found the amazingly comfortable beds too comfortable, and simply couldn't relax. So anyone that would walk in on his "Room" would find the room completely dismantled, and the furniture set up in a barricade. George sleeping in the furthest corner in a tattered sleeping bag that smelled of oil, dust, and sweat. Hardly the glamorous images one may have thought about when thinking of a "Hero". Though George would never consider himself such.<br/><br/>Over the course of the next several days, George watched as new people moved in, and others move on. That one asian girl, Leyu he found her name to be, moved on, and someone calling themselves "Cannonball" Moved in. George, for his part, kept to himself mostly. Which seemed to please that one jumpy spider girl. So most days he spent down in the garage near his bike. He wanted to get out to stretch her, and his legs. However the streets, and traffic of this grossly over populated city made that simply impossible. Resulting in any rides being cut aggravatingly short. In short the city was not doing the Ghost Rider any favors.<br/><br/>This morning, George sat at the very opposite end of the table as the others. He was reading the paper, and drinking out of a large picture full of ice water, his third, while Samuel made breakfast. The man seemingly enjoying trying to take care of everyone. George would simply get breakfast later, maybe open one of his cans of Beenie Weenies. They always last, and were good for protein. At the sound of the front door opening, George flicked his eyes up as he saw Laura entering with a bag full of groceries. The Mutant, whom had been feral eleven days ago, seemed to fit into the Widow's home rather nicely once they were able to get the drug that was inducing her Feral like state from her. Laura had tried sniffing around to try, and find out more about George, but every time he'll simply tell her to leave him alone, or he would leave the room. His past, and secrets were his own, and no one was privy to them. Was it cold, probably, but it was one of the few ways that George knew to protect himself.<br/><br/>George watched Laura enter, and set the groceries downs before asking if Sam, and Jeremy if they were moved in, following it up with her telling everyone that she was not going to "Baby" them. Sam was quick to greet Laura, and tell her that breakfast was almost done. Though he made a quip about George taking the glass of orange juice on the table. George simply snorted at the remark. "I'm fine, thank you." He replied as he turned his attention back down to the paper. Ignoring all the delicious smells from Sam's wonderful cooking.