11-21-2018, 02:25 AM
[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]The Pitt isn't rolling with member after member, filled to a brink. No, the place is quiet that simple conversations can resonate as if you were alone in a cave. While Caesar had only known of weekly tasks being handed out by hearing word from others, Pan only knew they existed from hearing the Savannah's voice - loud and crystal clear. Weekly tasks. It sounded like an excuse to boss others around, to give them jobs they should have been doing. She feels a great uneasiness from the idea of them. Pan knows that she has an great deal of bad luck, it will be almost unsurprising if she is to receive a task she does not want to do. There is also a ridiculous number of jobs she will dread but, despite her own insecurities, the serval approaches biting her bottom lip. Caesar looked like he knew what he was doing. She supposes The Typhoon and The Pitt weren't as different as they must have been considering how easily he has slipped into their lifestyle. Then again, some were just more adaptable than others. "T-Task please," the dark serval asks, speaking before her brain had the time to formulate her words.