Luke Cage

Luke pauses as he walks down the tense streets. He carefully scans the area. Somebody was watching him, but who? And more importantly, why?

He turns up the collar of his leather jacket, making it look like he paused to brace himself against the early autumn chill. He slowly lowers his hands, but does not put them back in his pockets. Instead they slowly curl into hard as iron fists.

Sneak up on me will you? Yeah, you better show your ugly mug. Come Get Some!

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Including the Watchers distinction and invoking one of my own.