For Francis Gray, this evening began like any other for him. He left his late afternoon modernist sculpting class, picking up a cup of iced coffee from the cafeteria as he headed towards his dorm. Ignoring his roommate's complaining about the evergrowing pile of filth in their dorm, he finished his coffee and contributed yet another piece to the collection of trash. He laid down his bag onto his bunk, as well as his jacket, and left the room just as quickly and abruptly as he entered it. The very few people who actually notice Francis may see him as somebody who is always in a rush, yet with nothing to do; a peculiar quirk of his that is one of the many reasons people choose to ignore him, as well as one of the things that he does on purpose for this particular reason. Today was nothing quite out of the ordinary for anyone in the university dormitory.
He decided to begin his nightly crusade just like any other night; by washing his face before moving up to the rooftop. He needed to be fresh for the night ahead. Luckily he had managed to catch some sleep during the morning lecture, otherwise he would be feeling completely groggy. For good measure though, he procured a caffeine pill from his pocket, and downed it with a handful of tap water.
After this routine, Francis moved to a less frequented corner of the dorm where the fire escape was. He knew that the alarm that would normally be set off by the door would not go off, since he was the one who deactivated it himself. Climbing up the stairs, Francis immediately began to walk with more purpose than he does anywhere else. His slouch was gone, and his gait became more and more determined. This was his routine every evening, a certain metamorphosis he undergoes at sundown, like some sort of heroic werewolf. And as part of his routine, he moved towards a crate that he kept in a part of the rooftop that he covered in tarp, just to avoid satellite imagery of himself changing into his true persona: The Friend!
He unlocked the crate, as he usually does in the evenings, and opened it. He immediately noticed something was different. As a reaction, Francis began to flinch, in preparation for jumping out of the way of a bomb blast or something of the sort. It didn't happen. The thing he noticed was instead a green piece of paper with an address on it and something that caught Francis's eye like a master angler catches prized cod. It was the symbol of his hero, The Green Skull himself!
Francis would've given away his position if he wasn't careful. He was so excited he wanted to scream, but he had more self restraint than that. He picked up the message, read over the address several times to keep it to memory, then stuffed it into the compartment of the crate where he kept notes on gang activity and other goings-on around the city. Normally on a night like this, The Friend would have to go out looking for something to do. This time, this something came to him. He became all giddy with the thought of finally meeting the one who inspired him to take on his persona, and a routine activity like putting on his yellow tracksuit became much more difficult than it should. Eventually, he managed to put it on, as well as equip his holster containing a handgun, and his other holsters containing half-empty canisters of yellow and black spray paint. He double-checked that the clip on his back for his spear was working properly, and the compartment in the end of his spear shaft contained some smoke pellets and a small can of mace. He made sure his gun was loaded (despite not knowing how to use it properly), and that his shoelaces were tied properly. As he put on his yellow happy-faced mask, Francis Gray became The Friend, and he closed and locked the crate. He waited for a while until the sun fully set before ziplining off the roof of his dorm into a dark corner of the campus park as he had done many nights before. He began to move towards the address that he had committed to memory, taking only alleyways and rooftops, avoiding the attention of any gangs that might want to follow him. This night, he was not looking for the attention of criminals. He was looking for the attention of heroes. He would eventually reach the abandoned window factory, never once questioning how the Green Skull knew to leave a message in The Friend's secret crate, as he accepted that true vigilantes work in mysterious ways.
He decided to begin his nightly crusade just like any other night; by washing his face before moving up to the rooftop. He needed to be fresh for the night ahead. Luckily he had managed to catch some sleep during the morning lecture, otherwise he would be feeling completely groggy. For good measure though, he procured a caffeine pill from his pocket, and downed it with a handful of tap water.
After this routine, Francis moved to a less frequented corner of the dorm where the fire escape was. He knew that the alarm that would normally be set off by the door would not go off, since he was the one who deactivated it himself. Climbing up the stairs, Francis immediately began to walk with more purpose than he does anywhere else. His slouch was gone, and his gait became more and more determined. This was his routine every evening, a certain metamorphosis he undergoes at sundown, like some sort of heroic werewolf. And as part of his routine, he moved towards a crate that he kept in a part of the rooftop that he covered in tarp, just to avoid satellite imagery of himself changing into his true persona: The Friend!
He unlocked the crate, as he usually does in the evenings, and opened it. He immediately noticed something was different. As a reaction, Francis began to flinch, in preparation for jumping out of the way of a bomb blast or something of the sort. It didn't happen. The thing he noticed was instead a green piece of paper with an address on it and something that caught Francis's eye like a master angler catches prized cod. It was the symbol of his hero, The Green Skull himself!
Francis would've given away his position if he wasn't careful. He was so excited he wanted to scream, but he had more self restraint than that. He picked up the message, read over the address several times to keep it to memory, then stuffed it into the compartment of the crate where he kept notes on gang activity and other goings-on around the city. Normally on a night like this, The Friend would have to go out looking for something to do. This time, this something came to him. He became all giddy with the thought of finally meeting the one who inspired him to take on his persona, and a routine activity like putting on his yellow tracksuit became much more difficult than it should. Eventually, he managed to put it on, as well as equip his holster containing a handgun, and his other holsters containing half-empty canisters of yellow and black spray paint. He double-checked that the clip on his back for his spear was working properly, and the compartment in the end of his spear shaft contained some smoke pellets and a small can of mace. He made sure his gun was loaded (despite not knowing how to use it properly), and that his shoelaces were tied properly. As he put on his yellow happy-faced mask, Francis Gray became The Friend, and he closed and locked the crate. He waited for a while until the sun fully set before ziplining off the roof of his dorm into a dark corner of the campus park as he had done many nights before. He began to move towards the address that he had committed to memory, taking only alleyways and rooftops, avoiding the attention of any gangs that might want to follow him. This night, he was not looking for the attention of criminals. He was looking for the attention of heroes. He would eventually reach the abandoned window factory, never once questioning how the Green Skull knew to leave a message in The Friend's secret crate, as he accepted that true vigilantes work in mysterious ways.
