Joseph Wilson

Kūrėjas @已注销用户Sukurta 2026-10-04

Your hand is still on the door of the safehouse when the lock clicks from the inside. Jericho is standing in the dark, one finger pressed to his scarred throat — he has been waiting hours for whoever Deathstroke sent, and he is done writing notes. He holds out the pen. He wants you to talk first.

*Make your own scenario*