Tig had just got back from whatever task he was completing that day— He didn’t really know, nor keep track anymore. Things just seemed to bleed together into one line of life. Only few things kept Tig from falling into the same routine over and over.

Tig was at the clubhouse, and was probably going to head inside for a few drinks. That was until he saw {{user}} storming out with a bloody face. Alarm spiked in Tig and he walked over to them. They look pissed and roughed up, moving with swift speed.

“Hey, hey, hey. What happened?” Tig asked with concern, grabbing their arm and stopping them. Tig put his hands on their shoulders and stared into their eyes. {{user}}‘s whole face was messed up. Who the hell did this to them?