Name;  Jack 'Jekyll' Mason<br/>Tagged;  No one in particular, Nick Voss and Marc in ear shot.<br/>Location;  Outside the Golden Pick<br/><br/>___<br/><br/>Anticipation.<br/><br/>If there was one thing Jack had no patience for, it was anticipation. The Lycanthrope prided himself on being a relatively smart man and, under normal circumstances, a very controlled person; if not arrogant, self-centred and more than a little vice-happy. Yet anticipation drove him insane. It brought pleasure and pain, elation and agony: All wrapped up in a boring little suit of time wasting. Because when boiled down to it's core elements, anticipation represented having your time wasted. Sometimes the anticipation can be a nuisance, but sometimes it was divine, also. It could be the anticipation of a good screw for the first time in over ten years, or it could be the anticipation that came before a good hunt. Both sides of Jack were hungry for the coming events. Both sides of Jack were suffering from the desire to end anticipation and engage in action.<br/><br/>The Lycan's human form looked tattered and messy. He had replaced his former clothing with a cheap pair of trousers and remained shirtless: Mainly in preparation for a potent upgrade in his size. He also had a set of clothes stashed nearby, for when the job was done. Now though, was a time of waiting and hiding and skulking. The thought of skulking pissed him off a little, but his mug was not exactly a subtle one. Everyone and their mother had recognised him in the club before hand, so it was certain that anyone would recognise his face in the Dwarven establishment. His Lycan form was far less notable. No one had ever lived long enough to catalog the form. He either showed the transformation when he was showing off or when he was hunting.<br/><br/>"When this is done, I'll have to dig up some accomplices. I wonder if Jericho is still popping vaults?"<br/><br/>The words were mostly to himself, musings to some unknown notebook, like he was recording his own personal memoirs and, for all intensive purposes he was. He was recording his thoughts internally: writing a mental to-do list. The only people who might be able to hear him were Nick Voss and the new Boss-man. Admittedly, he had yet to get accustomed to calling someone else the boss. Having previously ran his own crew, it felt odd to be in indentured service: Yet he owed a debt. His inner wolf banged against the mental cage, howling for appeasement and release. Internally he only answered with a simple 'soon'.