___Scawire___
Heading across the forecourt, pissed off, in dire need of a smoke and in considerable pain from your leg wound, your mind races to revenge, to some instinctive need to lash out and see the place burn.
Surrounded by the stink of petroleum and LPG, your hand subconsciously slips towards your zippo lighter, fingers delicately tracing its outline.
Pyromania resistance test please (include wound mods and craving mods)
Reaching the car, you plonk down heavily in the drivers seat and sling the dry clothes moodily at Knives on the back seat.
__Lumen__
Mantis jumps into the front seat alongside Dunk, the packs of dry clothing hitting you in his arm as you lay across the back seats.
You see a spark in Mantis' eyes that you didn't see before. A kind of far-off malevolence that he's trying to quell.
__Both___
Dunk looks at Mantis, more than a little concerned..
What you mean "security"? please tell me you didn't piss him off?
He reaches for the starter button, cursing as the old junker splutters and stalls twice.