02-13-2020, 01:29 AM
[div style="font-family: impact; font-size: 38pt; color: white; text-shadow: 1px 1px black, 1px -1px black, -1px 1px black, -1px -1px black; position: absolute; margin-top: -36px; max-width: 625px; text-align: center;"]SWEENEY CALLAHAN FALLOUT
[div style="margin: auto; background-color: #fff; max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; color: #000; overflow: auto; padding: 6%; margin-top: 10px; line-height: 17px; border: #000 solid; border-width: 1px 1px 1px 1px; "]Sweeney heard the call come from the newer member of the Pitt, and couldn't help but get her interest piqued. She was stuck herself, trapped in a place where she didn't feel as though she could actually respect most, her own father killed in front of her being the cause. If she hadn't snuck out that day and seen it, she likely wouldn't have had the issues she had now, but she still snuck out, didn't care. Nothing would be as traumatic as that site she saw, and the pleading she heard coming from the previous ardent of the Pitt.But when Michael had called out, asking about training and flaws, she couldn't help but snicker to herself as she pad forward. This guy was going to tell them about their flaws? He needed a reality check. Although she couldn't physically fight right now - she knew her limits - she could still speak, and speak she shall. "Our flaws? Why don't we start with yours?" She would speak, innocent at first, though malicious intent flowed through each passing word, "Like how you showed up at the border, in the middle of a desert, bleeding and dying, and weak."