I'll never let a sole regret rain down on me (open, challenging Crowd)

[Zjarr]

[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]"Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't slice an arm off 'n' shit," the cyborg drawled as he made his way over, offering the form of Cavalrychoirs a somewhat playful roll of his eyes as he spoke. Easy there, man. To be frank, he wasn't particularly pleased with the current situation of some disgruntled members lashing out at others. But honestly? Some people just had to be put in their place, and he'd be willing to understand that. A few minor wounds, a scratch or a bite or a scar, maybe some bleeding. Nothing major, no broken limbs or maiming. Just the normal shit he'd come to expect. Zjarr firmly believed that scuffling one's way to regaining their high position wasn't likely the best route unless you were in some mindless warbound group, but he'd let the two have their fun for the time being.

"Y'all go enjoy yourselves, and, uh, try not to play too rough, eh? No use breakin' legs and slashin' throats over losin' a little title."

[glow=#f24b00,2,300]how'd it get so scandalous?[/glow] — ☼