08-29-2017, 10:55 PM
There was no mistaking it, Jakob was hungry. It was a hunger that punched him in the stomach and kept kicking when he was on the ground. Not the literal ground, that would be embarrassingly silly. He was thinking figuratively. It was just comparable. It was also not the hungriest he’s been in his life, but it was bad enough to admit that it felt pretty close.
He managed to swallow that down with another pill from his pocket. As to what it was going to do for him, he had no idea. He just thought it might help his hunger pains to have something swimming in his system.
He walked on the sidewalk with purpose but had no true purpose honestly. He has been in need of something for a long while, especially since his funds and fuel was low. He’s been lazily lounging in his bed for the past few months. It’s been great, but even a drug addicted Russian can only entertain himself for so long.
Jakob stopped in his tracks and looked around. “What drugs?” He asked, no one in particular.
He spotted a figure walking casually about looking at his phone from across the street. The figure didn’t even notice he was being watched, and Jakob just shrugged and went on his way again.
His non-metal hand moved up into his hair and pushed it out of his face, only for it to fall back in it. It was shaggy, gray, and needed a good wash. He looked down at his grease covered hand, stared at it for half a block before wiping it on his pants and pocketing it. He didn’t think about it, but he really needed to get his life back together. If only for a slight improvement in appearance. What he did think about was how he could get moving again.
What can a one arm man do? Besides scar the local children by shaking his arm nub at them and screaming ‘Don’t do drugs kids!!’ at them. This, by the way, was Jakob’s favorite charity work. He loved kids, he might have made a good father at some point in his life. He vaguely remembers the sweetest little girl from his life before Omniverse. Her name was Evelyn. He loved her with everything he had. She was too shy to share her feelings, but maybe she gave a damn about him. Yeah?
The human stopped abruptly again, looking around. There was an unmistakable scent of popcorn in the air. It was salt and butter, and cheddar. Maybe caramel, but his nose didn’t work so well with sweet things. At least not caramel.
He turned to face the road, looking both ways he crossed it and headed straight down a creepy alley of many in Tier 4.
When the stoned figure surfaced once more he was staring at a large semi with its front end V’d around a lamp pole. The door was flung open and the driver nowhere in sight. He couldn’t smell gas, so he approached it. Across the trailer was the logo for some kind of carnival themed snack company. It advertised popcorn, cotton candy, pretzels, animal crackers, and more. There was a little damage done where the cab and the trailer met, but Jakob found nothing more than cosmetic.
Curious now, he moved over to the cab, climbing in and turning the keys that remain. It roared to life and then settled on a deep purr. Jakob’s face lit up once more. He buckled up - safety first - and closed the door before easing the rig out of its predicament. The loud beeping of a truck this size backing up screeching out for anyone in the city to hear
He just freed the front from the extremely dented pole when he heard screaming from an overweight man in a ball cap. He tried to flag the current driver down, even taking the cap off to show off his balding spot at the top of his head. Jakob knew he should stop and see what a frantic man had to say, but he also knew by the same logo on the guy’s hat that it was the previous driver of the rig. It was a hard debate, but he finally put the rig in neutral and while holding on the break he opened the window before hanging halfway out to see what the man had to say.
“Dobroye utro!” He switched to Russian. This brought confusion and desperation into the driver’s face. Jakob remained as impassive as ever.
“I-I don’t understand.” The man said, then shook his head as violently as he could. “N-Nevermind! What are you doing with my truck!!?”
“Kakiye?” The drugged Russian followed up, acting like he didn’t understand.
“What?” The driver asked back, helplessly.
“YA khochu Popkorn!” Jakob explained, then pointed to the hat. “Mogu li ya poluchit' eto?”
The man’s face lit up as he heard ‘popcorn’. Then the kid pointed to his hat. “Yes!” The man responded, thinking they were finally communicating.
“I chto?” Jakob asked, pointing back to the trailer. Cutting the man off before he could say much more than yes.
“Yes!” The older man said, nodding his head, smiling to keep up good visuals to help communications. From his perspective, the kid was asking if this stuff belonged to him. Maybe he was just trying to help.
How wrong the man was...
In a flash, Jakob has snatched his hat and slapped it on his own head. Then in his best attempt with such a thick accent, he said, “Thank you!” and drove off. The aging man was having a hard enough time with just dealing with the fact that his hat had been snatched away that he hardly had the chance to do anything about the slowly leaving rig. He cried out and banged on the side of the trailer, but Jakob just pulled the string that honked the horn and kept rolling away with his prize. He did have permission after all~!
He watched from the mirrors as the man finally began to give up, his meaty jog turning to a mere tired out slapping of his feet until the big man was bent over gasping for air and half-heartedly shaking his fist. Jakob laughed with delight as he continued down the road.
Eventually, the silence bored him to tears and he turned the radio on. At first, it assaulted his ears with awful whiny country music, then he turned the knob to drop the volume to a much more tolerable level while his eyes remained on the road. It was his metallic hand that toyed with the buttons and all while somehow managing not to break anything. He came to a station of alternative rock and that was good enough for him.
In his adventure to find good music, he also discovered some chewing gum in the dash and pulled out a piece. Navigating the lower tier of the city-verse was slow already, but with a clunky rig and no real plan on where to take it, Jakob just wandered around for a bit while he unsheathed the candy and popped the strip into his mouth. “Good day.” He announced, nodding to himself.
He managed to swallow that down with another pill from his pocket. As to what it was going to do for him, he had no idea. He just thought it might help his hunger pains to have something swimming in his system.
He walked on the sidewalk with purpose but had no true purpose honestly. He has been in need of something for a long while, especially since his funds and fuel was low. He’s been lazily lounging in his bed for the past few months. It’s been great, but even a drug addicted Russian can only entertain himself for so long.
Jakob stopped in his tracks and looked around. “What drugs?” He asked, no one in particular.
He spotted a figure walking casually about looking at his phone from across the street. The figure didn’t even notice he was being watched, and Jakob just shrugged and went on his way again.
His non-metal hand moved up into his hair and pushed it out of his face, only for it to fall back in it. It was shaggy, gray, and needed a good wash. He looked down at his grease covered hand, stared at it for half a block before wiping it on his pants and pocketing it. He didn’t think about it, but he really needed to get his life back together. If only for a slight improvement in appearance. What he did think about was how he could get moving again.
What can a one arm man do? Besides scar the local children by shaking his arm nub at them and screaming ‘Don’t do drugs kids!!’ at them. This, by the way, was Jakob’s favorite charity work. He loved kids, he might have made a good father at some point in his life. He vaguely remembers the sweetest little girl from his life before Omniverse. Her name was Evelyn. He loved her with everything he had. She was too shy to share her feelings, but maybe she gave a damn about him. Yeah?
The human stopped abruptly again, looking around. There was an unmistakable scent of popcorn in the air. It was salt and butter, and cheddar. Maybe caramel, but his nose didn’t work so well with sweet things. At least not caramel.
He turned to face the road, looking both ways he crossed it and headed straight down a creepy alley of many in Tier 4.
When the stoned figure surfaced once more he was staring at a large semi with its front end V’d around a lamp pole. The door was flung open and the driver nowhere in sight. He couldn’t smell gas, so he approached it. Across the trailer was the logo for some kind of carnival themed snack company. It advertised popcorn, cotton candy, pretzels, animal crackers, and more. There was a little damage done where the cab and the trailer met, but Jakob found nothing more than cosmetic.
Curious now, he moved over to the cab, climbing in and turning the keys that remain. It roared to life and then settled on a deep purr. Jakob’s face lit up once more. He buckled up - safety first - and closed the door before easing the rig out of its predicament. The loud beeping of a truck this size backing up screeching out for anyone in the city to hear
He just freed the front from the extremely dented pole when he heard screaming from an overweight man in a ball cap. He tried to flag the current driver down, even taking the cap off to show off his balding spot at the top of his head. Jakob knew he should stop and see what a frantic man had to say, but he also knew by the same logo on the guy’s hat that it was the previous driver of the rig. It was a hard debate, but he finally put the rig in neutral and while holding on the break he opened the window before hanging halfway out to see what the man had to say.
“Dobroye utro!” He switched to Russian. This brought confusion and desperation into the driver’s face. Jakob remained as impassive as ever.
“I-I don’t understand.” The man said, then shook his head as violently as he could. “N-Nevermind! What are you doing with my truck!!?”
“Kakiye?” The drugged Russian followed up, acting like he didn’t understand.
“What?” The driver asked back, helplessly.
“YA khochu Popkorn!” Jakob explained, then pointed to the hat. “Mogu li ya poluchit' eto?”
The man’s face lit up as he heard ‘popcorn’. Then the kid pointed to his hat. “Yes!” The man responded, thinking they were finally communicating.
“I chto?” Jakob asked, pointing back to the trailer. Cutting the man off before he could say much more than yes.
“Yes!” The older man said, nodding his head, smiling to keep up good visuals to help communications. From his perspective, the kid was asking if this stuff belonged to him. Maybe he was just trying to help.
How wrong the man was...
In a flash, Jakob has snatched his hat and slapped it on his own head. Then in his best attempt with such a thick accent, he said, “Thank you!” and drove off. The aging man was having a hard enough time with just dealing with the fact that his hat had been snatched away that he hardly had the chance to do anything about the slowly leaving rig. He cried out and banged on the side of the trailer, but Jakob just pulled the string that honked the horn and kept rolling away with his prize. He did have permission after all~!
He watched from the mirrors as the man finally began to give up, his meaty jog turning to a mere tired out slapping of his feet until the big man was bent over gasping for air and half-heartedly shaking his fist. Jakob laughed with delight as he continued down the road.
Eventually, the silence bored him to tears and he turned the radio on. At first, it assaulted his ears with awful whiny country music, then he turned the knob to drop the volume to a much more tolerable level while his eyes remained on the road. It was his metallic hand that toyed with the buttons and all while somehow managing not to break anything. He came to a station of alternative rock and that was good enough for him.
In his adventure to find good music, he also discovered some chewing gum in the dash and pulled out a piece. Navigating the lower tier of the city-verse was slow already, but with a clunky rig and no real plan on where to take it, Jakob just wandered around for a bit while he unsheathed the candy and popped the strip into his mouth. “Good day.” He announced, nodding to himself.
Quote:Translations
"Good morning!"
"What?"
"I want popcorn." ... "Can I have that?"
"And that?"
![[Image: tumblr_maolcpnQS61qakj1do1_500.gif]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_maolcpnQS61qakj1do1_500.gif)
Warning: Anything that involves Ash should be rated M. Possibly higher.
Erik Vrell : Ash has a 'love' fourth dimensional shape
Erik Vrell : As in its wide and unfathomable for us mere mortals