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Finding Who You Really Are (After Godstorm, open to Mansion folk)
The grounds were still rather wet and soggy from the storm. Thankfully, there was not a whole lot of damage to the Mansion, or the dorms. Dolemeck spent the majority of the storm locked in his room, playing some vinyls and sneaking a quick smoke when he could. Now that the storm passed, he could make his way out of the dorms and into the music room without fear of getting sucked into a mud puddle or something.
For the first time in a long time, the young Brit walked out of his bedroom. No wheelchair, no leg braces. He was walking with the use of his powers. He was dressed in a pair of doc martins, black leather pants, a matching leather trench, and a union jack shirt under his coat. His black hair had grown out some, going past his chin a bit, and his skin remain rather pale. He just seemed like a different person, now.
For the first time in a long time, the young Brit walked out of his bedroom. No wheelchair, no leg braces. He was walking with the use of his powers. He was dressed in a pair of doc martins, black leather pants, a matching leather trench, and a union jack shirt under his coat. His black hair had grown out some, going past his chin a bit, and his skin remain rather pale. He just seemed like a different person, now.