Enh, from Uriel's view, He has already attempted to break The Hanged Man a number of time, each proving useless. In addition, he now view T.H.M. as ungrateful and aggravating, the latter of which he would not readily admit.
I know what I'll do.
[Bro]COLOR="Lime"]6[/COLOR
The man raises an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, you sure have changed, haven't you, rotten little pig-sucker?" He pours out a glass of water and hands it to Dusty.
"What about you? White Russian or a Sake and Red Bull?"
He turns to CRABBY. "...and for you, new guy? Big ol' glass of cream from the hairy German tap in the back room?"
[Deluge]COLOR="Lime"]3[/COLOR
Uriel remains very still for a moment, a green reticule slowly tightening around the reflection of The Hanged Man.Unfortunate, he says finally.
His hand lashes out, forcing T.H.M. into the wall beside him, green lightning arcing out across the surface as the plaster begins to warp and contort, the metal supports curling out of the wall and beginning to wrap around the bandaged hitman. He can feel the materials forcing their way into his head, feel the back of his skull beginning to soften and crack, pieces of it starting to fuse with the apartment. [T.H.M. -// -Phys| +Phys=]
Well, The Hanged Man sure has got himself in a lick of trouble.
Welp, THM doesn't run, it's not his style. He's also incredibly fucking pissed so he's not exactly thinking straight, let's see now. Also, hey what happened to those three normal RAD I had.
Welp, THM doesn't run, it's not his style. He's also incredibly fucking pissed so he's not exactly thinking straight, let's see now. Also, hey what happened to those three normal RAD I had.
Nothing, you just lost the RAD Barrier, and PermaRAD.
"Fuck yeah, man, best thing I've heard someone say all week. I'll take a White Russian." A sake 'n Red Bull weren't somethin' that The Bro would have ever requested a'his own volition, but somethin' about that drink sounded oddly... right with him. Still, he weren't one t'change from ol' habits.
[Bro]
The man smiles and nods, quickly mixing a White Russian and sliding it across the bar to The Bro. A hesitant sip reveals it to be quite good. "On the house," he says cheerfully. Despite his youth, and intensely foul mouth, something about him strikes you as both kindly and aged.
He pushes a Woodchuck in Chet's direction. "Sure thing, new meat."
He turns around and begins the glass display case set at eye level amidst the strangely shaped liquor bottles that cover the back wall. The case is empty, but it looks like one of those action figure displays you see really obsessive people keeping their old toys in. "So, what are you pestilent, oozing crotch-maws doing in the city?"
Theresai wasn't an Epitaph, she was just an Easter Egg attached to Feli's Epitaph.
"Hey, man, watch the fuckin' language around the kid.
Anyway, we're uh, well I'm looking for a new rug and uh, I don't really know what everyone else is here for? I think uh, maybe they're looking for, you know, supplies 'n shit."
[Bro]
"Please, that kid's mind is a festering pool of bloody, herb-soaked, anal-leakage at this point tha-" he pauses and runs a hand through his hair, a slight smile. "Sorry, wrong kid. You're right. A cocksucker, but right."
He climbs atop a step ladder and begins polishing the ship hanging over the bar. "Well, I can't really help you with the rug thing - don't get out much." He picks up a bottle of canned air and opens one of the ship's doors, carefully blowing the dust out of the model. "What I can do for you wilting chunks of sawed-off labia is help you clear your heads. You run into anyone... interesting, and you come tell me about 'em. Weave me a story, and maybe, maybe, your cum-addled, vacant minds will give you some new insights on your own personal tale."
He looks at The Bro and Dusty, pushing his painfully hip thick-rimmed glasses up his nose. "Now, I think both of you have something to say about someone." He turns to Chet. "You too, maybe." He squints at the Psycher/Mutant. "Hell, you might have two stories to tell me. Impressive for such a heaving mass of dickless grey-matter."
Pain and fear wash o'er my shell of a body and lays siege ta the until now unconquerable fortress of my mind. This guy's goin' ta kill me. How can some deadbeat, mutilated drunk with bad lungs stand up ta what's basically a Demi-god, one a god's angels. I should not've said them words I said, I should not've said 'em.
I quickly bury these thoughts, as my rage burns, glowing hotter and hotter, rising slowly ta the surface. These thoughts are not my thoughts, they're the thoughts a the dead, the cowardly 'nd the weak. I am not any a these things, and no man, demon, angel, mutant, freak, psycher or god shall stand in my way. If they do, I'll kill 'em.
My hand curls around my assault rifle, holdin' it tight. One rule still hasn't changed in this wacked wasteland: Bullets kill. I Rise up, the rage is seethin' through my body, adrenaline rushin' through my veins. "NO." I say, as I grab a Rad Bullet from my pocket and load it into my assault rifle, and I unload into Uriel, And I keep firing. I scream, I scream because my rage wants me to scream, I scream the pain away.
As I fire I get near to Uriel, until we're face ta face, and my bullets 're gone. I grab the barrel of my rifle, and I hit him, and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him AND HIT HIM.
Now we're standin' in front of an open window, and with all my energy and anger, I kick him out of it.
I'm gonna let someone else tell their story first 'cause I am clueless about what he's talking about. Epitaphs I guess? Bro didn't really see one of those though. I guess he might've caught sight of Kro.
"Uhh... well, there was some guy uh, I think he was in a fight with uh, with uh some other people in our group. I came by to help when I heard... you know uh, gunshots, but they'd already taken care of him. Afterwards the two women made out. It was pretty hot, man.
Guy looked kinda weird. All dressed up in black, two big guns on him, kinda had a cowboy thing going on. But uh, I mean then again now one of the people I live with also has a cowboy thing, so uh... you know... fuck, where was I going with this?"
Forgetting the insult for the moment, Chet thinks back to Mayfield.
"Well, there was this zookeeper man. He was made of lions. Or something. Never understood what his deal was. Then there was one guy. Had a weird hangup about knowledge. Wanted to dissect Crabby. Funny thing is, his 'knowledge' wasn't even that good. He had a laptop full of, like, blog posts. But, he had an army of skeletons attack us so I had to impale him with a pipe."
Chet shrugs. "At least my second trip to Mayfield wasn't so bad. Sure, we had to scramble through buildings and eventually we were attacked by freaking hyena mutants of all things. But I meta sweet kid named Chuck and Dr. Adler, who saved us from the hyenas. Though, I guess he tried to kill my friend Henry? I was drugged and asleep at the time, so I heard this second-hand. I think he wanted to research us or something. Probably some dissecting involved, hope that won't be a recurring theme. But Henry, the good guy he is, helped the doctor with his daughter and, well, for once everything worked out alright."
Posts
or go on a mission is his own mind to break free from the composite?
Wouldn't be very superior of him to get angry at such petty human insults, he'd just be proving his point.
http://deicidecomic.tumblr.com/
READ MY COMIC ^^
[Cecil's 7] - (Lil' Chuck) Phys (3) Soc (2) Ment (4) RAD \\|||| | on 6[/COLOR
RAD Font
Mental Freaker
"Alright everyone, time for adventure!" Chuck presses the largest button he can find, hoping to start the engine
"Let's go!"
Assuming everyone is on board
http://deicidecomic.tumblr.com/
READ MY COMIC ^^
maybe just smack him upside the face
give him something that punishes him for his impudence
like a black plastic arm
gives him a bruise/wound if he steps out of line?
They definitely see use in him other than decorating
Dusty sits down on a bar stool, arms dangling at his sides. "Water. Precious. So-o-o-ource of all life. One. Please."
Twitch (I stream most days of the week)
Twitter (mean leftist discourse)
I know what I'll do.
[Bro]COLOR="Lime"]6[/COLOR
The man raises an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, you sure have changed, haven't you, rotten little pig-sucker?" He pours out a glass of water and hands it to Dusty.
"What about you? White Russian or a Sake and Red Bull?"
He turns to CRABBY. "...and for you, new guy? Big ol' glass of cream from the hairy German tap in the back room?"
[Deluge]COLOR="Lime"]3[/COLOR
Uriel remains very still for a moment, a green reticule slowly tightening around the reflection of The Hanged Man.Unfortunate, he says finally.
His hand lashes out, forcing T.H.M. into the wall beside him, green lightning arcing out across the surface as the plaster begins to warp and contort, the metal supports curling out of the wall and beginning to wrap around the bandaged hitman. He can feel the materials forcing their way into his head, feel the back of his skull beginning to soften and crack, pieces of it starting to fuse with the apartment. [T.H.M. -// -Phys| +Phys=]
Well, The Hanged Man sure has got himself in a lick of trouble.
http://deicidecomic.tumblr.com/
READ MY COMIC ^^
You can totally take him.
http://deicidecomic.tumblr.com/
READ MY COMIC ^^
There is an open window nearby, though.
http://deicidecomic.tumblr.com/
READ MY COMIC ^^
Twitch (I stream most days of the week)
Twitter (mean leftist discourse)
GoFund The Portland Trans Pride March, or Show It To People, or Else!
We will miss you.
http://deicidecomic.tumblr.com/
READ MY COMIC ^^
Nothing, you just lost the RAD Barrier, and PermaRAD.
Oh god
I can't handle this.
"Fuck yeah, man, best thing I've heard someone say all week. I'll take a White Russian." A sake 'n Red Bull weren't somethin' that The Bro would have ever requested a'his own volition, but somethin' about that drink sounded oddly... right with him. Still, he weren't one t'change from ol' habits.
http://www.audioentropy.com/
be on guard though
I recall de?ad saying teresai was an epitaph defeated by Mayfield.
"Oh um, I'll have a Woodchuck if you got it."
The man smiles and nods, quickly mixing a White Russian and sliding it across the bar to The Bro. A hesitant sip reveals it to be quite good. "On the house," he says cheerfully. Despite his youth, and intensely foul mouth, something about him strikes you as both kindly and aged.
He pushes a Woodchuck in Chet's direction. "Sure thing, new meat."
He turns around and begins the glass display case set at eye level amidst the strangely shaped liquor bottles that cover the back wall. The case is empty, but it looks like one of those action figure displays you see really obsessive people keeping their old toys in. "So, what are you pestilent, oozing crotch-maws doing in the city?"
Theresai wasn't an Epitaph, she was just an Easter Egg attached to Feli's Epitaph.
be back at like 7
hopefully Dan, Interrupted will have started
Anyway, we're uh, well I'm looking for a new rug and uh, I don't really know what everyone else is here for? I think uh, maybe they're looking for, you know, supplies 'n shit."
http://www.audioentropy.com/
"Please, that kid's mind is a festering pool of bloody, herb-soaked, anal-leakage at this point tha-" he pauses and runs a hand through his hair, a slight smile. "Sorry, wrong kid. You're right. A cocksucker, but right."
He climbs atop a step ladder and begins polishing the ship hanging over the bar. "Well, I can't really help you with the rug thing - don't get out much." He picks up a bottle of canned air and opens one of the ship's doors, carefully blowing the dust out of the model. "What I can do for you wilting chunks of sawed-off labia is help you clear your heads. You run into anyone... interesting, and you come tell me about 'em. Weave me a story, and maybe, maybe, your cum-addled, vacant minds will give you some new insights on your own personal tale."
He looks at The Bro and Dusty, pushing his painfully hip thick-rimmed glasses up his nose. "Now, I think both of you have something to say about someone." He turns to Chet. "You too, maybe." He squints at the Psycher/Mutant. "Hell, you might have two stories to tell me. Impressive for such a heaving mass of dickless grey-matter."
Deluge
THM: Phys 5:COLOR="Red"]=[/COLOR Soc 1:[] Ment 3:[]
Pain and fear wash o'er my shell of a body and lays siege ta the until now unconquerable fortress of my mind. This guy's goin' ta kill me. How can some deadbeat, mutilated drunk with bad lungs stand up ta what's basically a Demi-god, one a god's angels. I should not've said them words I said, I should not've said 'em.
I quickly bury these thoughts, as my rage burns, glowing hotter and hotter, rising slowly ta the surface. These thoughts are not my thoughts, they're the thoughts a the dead, the cowardly 'nd the weak. I am not any a these things, and no man, demon, angel, mutant, freak, psycher or god shall stand in my way. If they do, I'll kill 'em.
My hand curls around my assault rifle, holdin' it tight. One rule still hasn't changed in this wacked wasteland: Bullets kill. I Rise up, the rage is seethin' through my body, adrenaline rushin' through my veins. "NO." I say, as I grab a Rad Bullet from my pocket and load it into my assault rifle, and I unload into Uriel, And I keep firing. I scream, I scream because my rage wants me to scream, I scream the pain away.
As I fire I get near to Uriel, until we're face ta face, and my bullets 're gone. I grab the barrel of my rifle, and I hit him, and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him and hit him AND HIT HIM.
Now we're standin' in front of an open window, and with all my energy and anger, I kick him out of it.
[|||] expended. Givin' it all she got now.
http://deicidecomic.tumblr.com/
READ MY COMIC ^^
I'm gonna let someone else tell their story first 'cause I am clueless about what he's talking about. Epitaphs I guess? Bro didn't really see one of those though. I guess he might've caught sight of Kro.
http://www.audioentropy.com/
Edit: OH SHIT I'M GOING TO DIE.
http://deicidecomic.tumblr.com/
READ MY COMIC ^^
"Uhh... well, there was some guy uh, I think he was in a fight with uh, with uh some other people in our group. I came by to help when I heard... you know uh, gunshots, but they'd already taken care of him. Afterwards the two women made out. It was pretty hot, man.
Guy looked kinda weird. All dressed up in black, two big guns on him, kinda had a cowboy thing going on. But uh, I mean then again now one of the people I live with also has a cowboy thing, so uh... you know... fuck, where was I going with this?"
http://www.audioentropy.com/
http://deicidecomic.tumblr.com/
READ MY COMIC ^^
"I, Sticks, do declare myself helmsman of the vessel, the Iron Clap. May she serve us well.
Right, then, let's go!"
"Well, there was this zookeeper man. He was made of lions. Or something. Never understood what his deal was. Then there was one guy. Had a weird hangup about knowledge. Wanted to dissect Crabby. Funny thing is, his 'knowledge' wasn't even that good. He had a laptop full of, like, blog posts. But, he had an army of skeletons attack us so I had to impale him with a pipe."
Chet shrugs. "At least my second trip to Mayfield wasn't so bad. Sure, we had to scramble through buildings and eventually we were attacked by freaking hyena mutants of all things. But I meta sweet kid named Chuck and Dr. Adler, who saved us from the hyenas. Though, I guess he tried to kill my friend Henry? I was drugged and asleep at the time, so I heard this second-hand. I think he wanted to research us or something. Probably some dissecting involved, hope that won't be a recurring theme. But Henry, the good guy he is, helped the doctor with his daughter and, well, for once everything worked out alright."