The name's Fish. Now, I know what you're thinking, and yes. It's obviously a nickname. See, I just got out of Blackgate for good behavior on the condition that I keep this "therapeutic journal" to encourage me to be a god fearing member of society or something. Yeah, I don't have to be an expert to know that's some bullshit, but if it keeps me outta prison, fuck it. So I guess I'll update this stupid thing with my day and the shit that goes down while I do some job scouting. Tomorrow I'll probably head down to the docks and look there; maybe one of the costumed freaks needs some muscle. I mean, at this point, it's all I'm good for to them. None of them want brains, it's all gotta be fuckin dumbasses who have the mental capacity to lift a box and not much else. Hell, if it weren't for my strength and low morals, I could've gone to college. Ah well, at least they pay good.
A/n: Well hi there. Welcome to the beginning of what will hopefully be a daily update on the Rogue's Gallery from the perspective of poor ol' Fish here. Next chapter will contain villains and shenanigans, I promise! This is just a beginning step for what will be quite the ride. Thank you for reading, little spookies!
