07-03-2017, 02:08 PM
Warm blood mixed with cool rain as I continued my suicidal march toward Ganksquad Incorporated, LLC. Thankfully, the Map application on my SynPad assured me that Cell and little Blue had gone wide, putting some distance between them and Team Gangbang. Now if they’d only stop for a piss break I could catch up and make my heroic stand. God, I’m so awesome sometimes. I’d be significantly less awesome if I didn’t make it to them in time.
“You two had better love me for this,” I said, pulling a Karli GoLean bar from my pocket and swallowing it whole. No time for chewing when there were idiotic heroics to pursue. “I mean I’ll probably just respawn in Whiteville if I die here, but still. Sacrifices have to be worth something.”
I heaved heavy breaths as my feet squished through boggy mud, my boots now thoroughly slathered in thick muck. Normally I’d have complained, but the rest of my wardrobe was more blood than cloth, so it hardly mattered. Besides, I probably looked so badass. Like a more handsome and less incomprehensible Arnold Schwarzenegger.
“Not a lot of ammo left,” I muttered, tripping over a rotted log and scrambling to my feet. “And I sure as hell don’t have it in me to summon another rocket launcher. Maybe blowing my load on Mister Sinister wasn’t the best idea.” I broke into laughter as the words left my lips. “Hah, phrasing. Man, I wish someone was around to hear that.”
A smile spread across my face as I crested what would be the final hill on my trek. In the distance I could see the familiar silhouette of the city skyline, less-traveled dirt roads beginning to reach toward the mountains at my back. Hopefully I could grab a car pretty soon; sprinting on a barely functioning knee was getting pretty old.
As the dirt gave way to pavement I paused, a rank smell reaching my nostrils. “What smells like wet dog?”
“Not me,” came the reply, a husky growl from damn near on top of me.
“You two had better love me for this,” I said, pulling a Karli GoLean bar from my pocket and swallowing it whole. No time for chewing when there were idiotic heroics to pursue. “I mean I’ll probably just respawn in Whiteville if I die here, but still. Sacrifices have to be worth something.”
I heaved heavy breaths as my feet squished through boggy mud, my boots now thoroughly slathered in thick muck. Normally I’d have complained, but the rest of my wardrobe was more blood than cloth, so it hardly mattered. Besides, I probably looked so badass. Like a more handsome and less incomprehensible Arnold Schwarzenegger.
“Not a lot of ammo left,” I muttered, tripping over a rotted log and scrambling to my feet. “And I sure as hell don’t have it in me to summon another rocket launcher. Maybe blowing my load on Mister Sinister wasn’t the best idea.” I broke into laughter as the words left my lips. “Hah, phrasing. Man, I wish someone was around to hear that.”
A smile spread across my face as I crested what would be the final hill on my trek. In the distance I could see the familiar silhouette of the city skyline, less-traveled dirt roads beginning to reach toward the mountains at my back. Hopefully I could grab a car pretty soon; sprinting on a barely functioning knee was getting pretty old.
As the dirt gave way to pavement I paused, a rank smell reaching my nostrils. “What smells like wet dog?”
“Not me,” came the reply, a husky growl from damn near on top of me.
Quote:C1 → C3
Allying with Batsy.
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