[b]An amused smirk played at the middle aged face as the cigarette left his mouth, the smoke blowing into the shape of a poorly done skull. Still working on that. He held it at his side while he spoke, small ashes falling to the ground below.[/b] If I accounted myself with darkness, [b]His eyes went bank down to the be dead... Man? And then returned to the slaughterer.[/b] I sure as hell wouldn't tell [i]you.[/i] that aside, I am Atom, Atom Holiday. A simple man on appearance, but don't let it fool you! [b]One of the street lights fizzed out... And the metal pole, twenty feet away, bent out of shape into a mangled mess.[/b] I hate it when people underestimate!