GANG ROBBERY — MEETING 11.16

[BUBONICPLAGUE]

[align=center][div style="width: 600px; padding: 10px; height: auto; overflow: auto;"][div style="width: 550px; padding: 0px; line-height: 13px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]The rain was something that Bubonicplague was not especially fond of. He'd always despised being wet, the feeling of his body steam as the natural heat of it warded off drops of water. He debated creating a rock cover for himself as he padded through the storm; steam billowed from his body as he moved along, giving the appearance of a ghost. The sound of the conch was not hard for him to catch through the heavy thunder. Somewhat muffled, sure, but by the point of its bellowing he had far past tuned out the storm's howl.

The demon had not been here for long, but assumption led to the conclusion that it meant meeting. A deep breath escaped the jaws of the beast as he lumbered to follow the older members, and his ears twitched some as the sounds of the rain and thunder faded some in whatever room he had padded into. Bubonicplague settled himself closer to the front of the group for once and let his sightless gaze drift to Pincher's position.