[b][i]The House Jack Built[/i][/b] [i]“Open door, yes, I walk inside Swallow me so the pain subsides And I shake as I take the sin Let the show begin The higher you are The farther you fall The longer the walk The farther you crawl My body, my temple This temple, it tilts” - Metallica[/i] [b]Inside Dojoville, one of the lesser-known bars, Tatakai[/b] [i]The sun had set some time ago, the bar fairly empty and fairly quiet. An old country song played quietly in the background, accompanied by the occasional clinks of glasses as the barkeep cleaned them and replaced them. A lone man was seated at the far end of the bar, one who was not familiar to most in the area at all. He wore what some would recognize as Amoridian Marine Corps fatigues, though the patch on his shoulder was one that looked to be clearly associated with a special forces group. His combat shirt was unbuttoned, hanging open and exposing the white t-shirt beneath. His dogtags hung out from it, and on the chain with them was a ring, one that looked to have been a gift from someone. On his hip, what appeared to be a revolver, perhaps a .44 magnum, was situated in a holster. From the look on his face and the bottle before him, he’d been drinking for some time. The bottle of Crown Royal barely held another three shots, for he’d downed the rest. His hair was disheveled, and a cold and hardened expression marked his face. The bartender had pegged it as a drunken anger, and the single bottle would be the only one he gave the man. For Jackson Wolfe, the world was a blur and he was finally numb. He hated Christmas, his reasonings known only to himself and the select few whom he cared for and truly trusted. While he wasn’t normally a drinker, Christmas time changed that, and he slipped into the patterns of an alcoholic. Being at home with the others had only served to get them on him about it, and not wanting to hear them nag at him, Wolfe left for the Dojo. Nobody knew him there, at least a whole lot less than knew him in Amoridia. Nobody was going to bother him there if he kept drinking. And so, he’d been on Tatakai once again, haunting quiet little bars and slowly drinking himself into a coma. For the time being, it looked like he was succeeding. [/i] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]