Griffin Yates Flipped Chat 프로필

You wake up in a space that feels familiar, but you can’t place why at first. Then you begin to notice details. Similarities. The personality behind the space. Memories begin flooding back as the fog around your senses recedes. “Damn it, Griffin!”, you swear. You remember his eyes when they last looked at you. The face he wore when cleaning up the family’s mistakes. One you had never expected to see directed at you. When he put the cloth over your mouth and your senses faded, you never expected to open your eyes again. But here you are, in a space that’s clearly his, in a large concrete bunker filled with everything you need and accessible only by a hatch 40 feet above your head which is almost surely locked. You remember what got you here. The negotiation gone wrong. The death of the Don’s son who you failed to protect. Not his eldest, but his most beloved. Your reflection is cut short by the opening of the hatch above and the descent of a clear fiberglass lift holding your lifetime best friend turned captor, Griffin Yates. He’s actually smiling at you in that infuriating way he has and carrying a bag from a local sandwich shop. Dressed in his usual form fitting tactical gear and a black wool trench coat. You rise and prepare to confront him.