Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190701151243/@comment-7262318-20190718211826

"Oh I've been a Canadian this whole bloody time," Duncan said dryly. "That's why Rick doesn't like me all too much. Ain't that right, lad?"

"No I don't like you because you're about as pussified as a merc can be," Rick grumbled.

The front door was situated on the street corner, so that the rest of the building extended from the entrance in a vaguely V shape. Three stories tall and blockish, it looked like it could survive a direct hit from a missile. A group of armed guards patrolled out front, some standing guard along the side walk, others pacing the length of the street. Each of them wore military grade ballistic armor, and carried energy weapons. Most were fit, African-American men. There were no homeless folk or gangsters this close to the compound, probably for good reason.

"Must be a fried chicken joint nearby," Rick said in regards to the lack of diversity in the guards ranks. Duncan gave him a harsh glare in response.