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Multiple Settings Some idiots in a car. REBOOT

Sub Genres
Action, Adventure, Multiverse
Characters
Here

yourlocal-eboyy

boots with the fur
—I’ve split everything up to make it more readable, pspspssp—

You've lived every day of your life like clockwork. Wake up, do those things you do everyday, go to sleep, wake up... the cycle is endless. Not a cycle you'd be particularly upset with at all, no, life was great. Or maybe, it wasn't, but regardless you've carried on.

Just like how you've ended every other day, you've gone to sleep. The time you did it, nor how long you've slept matters. You wake up, but something's wrong. This isn't where you fell asleep, this isn't right.

As your eyes adjust to the faintly coloured place you've awoken, you come to the realisation that it seems.. empty. Pink, blue, and purple neon signs are the only lighting in this strange place. You're on the tiled floor, and multiple other strangers surround you.

A man is standing at the counter, looking as faded as the rest of you might. He seems to be arguing with the others behind the counter. Behind the counter, there's two people. One is a young man with green eyes, orange-brown curly hair, and fair skin with the exception of two scars on his nose and one under his right eye. He wears a dark blue hoodie with a red 'S' stitched into the right corner. He's smiling as he talks to the man on your side of the counter.

As it seems, he's one of you. He doesn't look like he's from your time, however. He's wearing particularly winterish clothing. His outfit is dark in colour, and is something someone would wear if they lived up north. High up north. He has white hair, which falls into a blue gradient in some strands. His eyes are silver, and he seems to be quite confused, and the one who enticed the argument.

While the two aforementioned men are talking from opposing ends of the counter, a simple plastic barrier between them, the brown-haired man in the hoodie introduced himself as 'Steve', labelled by the name tag he so proudly pats. He then gestures to the one sitting and clicking away at a computer, the one looking you all up and down, as if to confirm something.

This particular person... well, if you could call it that, couldn't be any taller than three feet tall. He seems to have a yellow-orange balloon in place of his head, some sharp-edged triangular shades adorn what could be considered his face. He wears a similar hoodie to the other man, with the exception of its white colour. Steve introduces the smaller one as 'Little Steve'.

Steve begins, "Welcome all, faded or fully conscious, to your trip around Hell. figuratively at least. No, you're not dead, and no, this isn't actually Hell. This world's just ended, and you're the one of lucky lots who gets'ta take a world, or America-restricted trip around this wasteland."

Little Steve simply nods at his remark and continues clicking away. It seems he is simply pressing keys on the keyboard, not truly typing anything. Steve continues, “Anyways,” he begins, walking to the back and grabbing a set of keys from a bulletin board, “I’m assuming you’re the driver, little guy.” He says as he tosses the keys at the faded man who’s apparently with you. He seemed like he was to say something, but was quickly cut off by Steve, who continues to talk.

He gestures to the left of the counter. There, is a vending machine with no visible contents; the receivement area has a large door which takes up over half of the machine, which Steve begins to explain. “That machine right there’s a real wonder. I stole it, of course, but basically it‘s like a genie. You get that screen on, type what you want, and you use a request. You can literally ask for anything with the exception of living beings, more requests, and nuclear weapons. You also can’t ask for things like the AIDS virus concealed within a syringe.

However, you can get boxes of things. So like, if any of ya’ll are snackers, get some. Also, you can get weapons and medicine, ammo too, but no painkillers. Oh, and ya got 5 requests. If y'all have any questions go ‘n ask. Well, anything except for ‘Who are you?’ Because as I said, my name is Steve, this is Little Steve,“
He says, gesturing back toward the balloon person slamming his hands on the keyboard.“‘Where am I?’ That’s simple, you’re in Territory 37, the coast of Japan. Specifically, you’re in Station 4, the station straight to Alaska.” Steve continues, “Oh, and no, how you got here doesn’t matter, no, you can’t just walk out, we’ve already super-bolted the doors, and yes, you’re going to have to travel as a group all together.”

He snaps his fingers in realisation. “Oh! Also, it’s not a complete wasteland out there, we’re actually trying to rebuild society and stuff. You’re likely to meet people along the way, but ah, I’d advise the lot of you to be careful. There are some.. things.. out there that’ll be out to kill ya, people included. I’d just warn you,” He tilted his head low “Not everybody’s what they seem. There are some people out there who can be infected one day, then completely fine the next, an off and on thing. Don’t share forks, spoons, or cups with anyone except people you’re 100% sure are okay. The process is painful.”

He then sits straight back up. “Holy fuck, sorry, that was a lot. Anyways, you guys can- oh wait, oops, gotta ask for your names for ya tickets. If you’re not sure of all five of your requests, you’re cool, there‘s another vending machine on the train, but that’ll be it for a while.” He pulls out a sharpie and a notepad.

”So, who might you all be?”
 

N-On-E-Mus

Madness At Its Finest!
K E E T H A N J O G L O
Keethan woke up, extremely disoriented. He got up, groaning, "The hell . . ?". This wasn't his bed. A bunch of neon signs were around him. Perhaps the oddest thing, was the balloon headed man. This must be a fever dream, dear god how much ibuprofen did I take last night?. Then the balloon man began to speak, and he decided to listen, wondering when will this dream end. Once he was finished e looked at the man, confused. He had not heard half of whatever he just said, as he was primarily focused on the 'End of the world'. "Wait . . . I just slept through the end of the world?" He looked relatively disappointed." How did it end, was it aliens, zombie virus, nuke?" He had always wanted to see a nuke explosion. "If it is a nuke explosion, is there any recordings of it? And also . . . how do you have a balloon head. Wait if you'r my dream, that means you are part of my mind so you should know. . . how much fucking ibuprofen DID I take last night?"​
 

Syfer

But sometimes the line of truth and lies falter.
(*) Everia Withe (*)
Everia had a long night of hunting. She caught so many wild deer and a few rabbits. This to her was the best it could be. Her in the wild by herself, the animals, and her trusty crossbow. She went to sleep in her small cottage feeling rather content her kill sitting on the table not that far away. The smell of death lingered in the air; a smell all to comforting to her. But when she woke up that morning the smell was gone, and instead replaced by something plain. She awoke with a start hearing voice, and more then that unfamiliar ones. She held her crossbow close to her in a ready position. But to her surprise it wasn’t intruders. In fact she wasn’t in her cottage at all. Nothing around her looked familiar. She cautiously stood up and jumped around when she heard someone start talking. She listened to him intently. Her ears twitching as he spoke. She turned to the other.... my god was that a giant?! Her eyes widened and as she arched her neck to look up at him. Her deep purple eyes staring at him in wide amazement.

Once he finished talking she turned to the person at the counter; ready to ask her own question. She raised her hand, and put it down much the same. Her small voice boomed through the room as she spoke. What she was lacking in height she made up with in personality and voice. “Uhm, yes many questions. I know you said you can’t ask HOW we got here, but how about WHY we’re here. At of all the trillions of people in the universe’s why us?” Her voice was not bossy or sarcastic. Rather it was more of sincerity and curiosity. Her posture asking much the same question. Her crossbow was tucked nicely under her arm, and at the disposal for any attack. Her deep purple eyes staring at both the one whom addressed as the Steve’s. Question and curiosity bared into her mind.
 

MrMopp

Two Thousand Club
Ooooooooookay.... this was something weird. Don’t get me wrong, Cricket has woken up in some pretty weird place. But, like, she was 99% certain she’d spent the entire night hiding in a tree from an anal she-moose and NOT getting hella drunk.

The little black and white, anthropomorphic dog sat there there on the cold tiled floor, ears perked up tall and nose twitching as she sniffed and surveyed the strange station and the slumber party she just woke up to. It was a mostly human crowd- a race she’d seen- along with the pointyist eared gnome she’d ever seen, and she ruled out any of them knowing what was going on cause they all looked pret-ty damned confused themselves. That guy at the ticket booth looked kind of in charge, though.

Cricket opened her mouth and was about to ask if this was a hostage situation or if this was Hell....

While the two aforementioned men are talking from opposing ends of the counter, a simple plastic barrier between them, the brown-haired man in the hoodie introduced himself as 'Steve', labelled by the name tag he so proudly pats. He then gestures to the one sitting and clicking away at a computer, the one looking you all up and down, as if to confirm something.

This particular person... well, if you could call it that, couldn't be any taller than three feet tall. He seems to have a yellow-orange balloon in place of his head, some sharp-edged triangular shades adorn what could be considered his face. He wears a similar hoodie to the other man, with the exception of its white colour. Steve introduces the smaller one as 'Little Steve'.
... what came out was “HEY, SCUSE ME! ARE WE IN-“ and then she saw the ballon man “-Is that a puppet?”
Steve begins, "Welcome all, faded or fully conscious, to your trip around Hell. figuratively at least. No, you're not dead, and no, this isn't actually Hell.
“Oh good!” Cricket chirped “I was gonna ask that.”
This world's just ended,
Crickets ears and mouth dropped in an aghast expression. “AW WHAAAAT???” She whined. “And I MISSED it?!?!” She was both disappointed and surprised that she slept through such an event. And... survived? Hang on...
and you're the one of lucky lots who gets'ta take a world, or America-restricted trip around this wasteland."
Cricket cocked her head. Sooooooo the world didn’t end end? She was a little turned around here. Maybe he meant “world” locally. Like “the world we know”. Whatever he meant, it certainly wasn’t HER world. Where the hell was America anyway? That must be a hell of a ways away from Alria since she never heard of it before. Sheesh!
Little Steve simply nods at his remark and continues clicking away. It seems he is simply pressing keys on the keyboard, not truly typing anything. Steve continues, “Anyways,” he begins, walking to the back and grabbing a set of keys from a bulletin board, “I’m assuming you’re the driver, little guy.” He says as he tosses the keys at the faded man who’s apparently with you. He seemed like he was to say something, but was quickly cut off by Steve, who continues to talk.

He gestures to the left of the counter. There, is a vending machine with no visible contents; the receivement area has a large door which takes up over half of the machine, which Steve begins to explain. “That machine right there’s a real wonder. I stole it, of course, but basically it‘s like a genie. You get that screen on, type what you want, and you use a request. You can literally ask for anything with the exception of living beings, more requests, and nuclear weapons. You also can’t ask for things like the AIDS virus concealed within a syringe.

However, you can get boxes of things. So like, if any of ya’ll are snackers, get some. Also, you can get weapons and medicine, ammo too, but no painkillers. Oh, and ya got 5 requests. If y'all have any questions go ‘n ask. Well, anything except for ‘Who are you?’ Because as I said, my name is Steve, this is Little Steve,“
He says, gesturing back toward the balloon person slamming his hands on the keyboard.“‘Where am I?’ That’s simple, you’re in Territory 37, the coast of Japan. Specifically, you’re in Station 4, the station straight to Alaska.” Steve continues, “Oh, and no, how you got here doesn’t matter, no, you can’t just walk out, we’ve already super-bolted the doors, and yes, you’re going to have to travel as a group all together.”

He snaps his fingers in realisation. “Oh! Also, it’s not a complete wasteland out there, we’re actually trying to rebuild society and stuff. You’re likely to meet people along the way, but ah, I’d advise the lot of you to be careful. There are some.. things.. out there that’ll be out to kill ya, people included. I’d just warn you,” He tilted his head low “Not everybody’s what they seem. There are some people out there who can be infected one day, then completely fine the next, an off and on thing. Don’t share forks, spoons, or cups with anyone except people you’re 100% sure are okay. The process is painful.”
Ok, there was a lot of talking there and Cricket only caught half of it. She’d been watching Balloon Head go nuts at the counter. (He-eh! Funny puppet. She couldn’t really see what he was slapping though. To short.). But here’s what she got:

• Civilization (so not literally the world) has been destroyed. Bummer.
• Free post-disaster train tour? HELL YEAH! That sounded awesome!
• There’s a magic genie box over there that gives you whatever you want except for needles and germs and “new-clear” weapons. Yep. That sounded right.
•Steve-o bolted the doors shut and wants everybody to stick together out there. Whatever you say MOM.
• Everything and everybody out there wants to kill you. Well DUH! That’s half the fun of an adventure!
• Don’t share any cups, or silverware, or dishes. Steve says so.

And just for that, she was gonna find all the spoons on the train and LICK em. Mwah-ha-ha!


He then sits straight back up. “Holy fuck, sorry, that was a lot. Anyways, you guys can- oh wait, oops, gotta ask for your names for ya tickets. If you’re not sure of all five of your requests, you’re cool, there‘s another vending machine on the train, but that’ll be it for a while.” He pulls out a sharpie and a notepad.

”So, who might you all be?”
The little canine raised her hand like an eager first grader. “Cricket Swatfly!” She called loudly. “And yeah, I got a question! Can Little Steve sign my haversack!”

Cricket patted her side, looked down around her feet and frowned. “Also,” she added “Where’s my haversack? And my backpack?”

(a haversack is a nondescript purse that people of both sexes would carry around well into the late Renaissance. Cricket is essentially a traveling hobo and her universe is just entering the age of steam.)
 
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yourlocal-eboyy

boots with the fur
K E E T H A N J O G L O
Keethan woke up, extremely disoriented. He got up, groaning, "The hell . . ?". This wasn't his bed. A bunch of neon signs were around him. Perhaps the oddest thing, was the balloon headed man. This must be a fever dream, dear god how much ibuprofen did I take last night?. Then the balloon man began to speak, and he decided to listen, wondering when will this dream end. Once he was finished e looked at the man, confused. He had not heard half of whatever he just said, as he was primarily focused on the 'End of the world'. "Wait . . . I just slept through the end of the world?" He looked relatively disappointed." How did it end, was it aliens, zombie virus, nuke?" He had always wanted to see a nuke explosion. "If it is a nuke explosion, is there any recordings of it? And also . . . how do you have a balloon head. Wait if you'r my dream, that means you are part of my mind so you should know. . . how much fucking ibuprofen DID I take last night?"​
The taller of the Steves, the human male, looked to Keethan with an expression of interest as he spoke. He seemed apathetic to the man’s confusion, as if nostalgia. He’d seen it all before, he knew it all well. He let a soft smile form to his face as he wrote something down on a notepad, glancing to the man before turning his head in his direction altogether. "Our end of the world wasn't nuclear, upsettingly. No, it was some virus thing that originated here in Japan, fun fact. If you'd like to know, there's only one safe-space. Where? I'm not spilling. You'd get shot on sight, so it'd be a waste." He further watched Keethan's confusion as if it were a joke, as if it were entertaining.

The shorter of the Steves, the balloon head shook his... head... when Keethan addressed him, then with his small hands, tossed a few signs to the air. It was a mix of sign language and various gestures, as if it were made up altogether. His stubby hands grasped a ruler and pointed to a piece of highlighter-yellow paper taped to the glass. It read:
"THIS IS
NOT
A DREAM.
PLEASE REFRAIN FROM
TRYING TO HARM YOURSELF OR
OTHERS."

Yes, it has happened twice. :-)
How reassuring.
(*) Everia Withe (*)
Everia had a long night of hunting. She caught so many wild deer and a few rabbits. This to her was the best it could be. Her in the wild by herself, the animals, and her trusty crossbow. She went to sleep in her small cottage feeling rather content her kill sitting on the table not that far away. The smell of death lingered in the air; a smell all to comforting to her. But when she woke up that morning the smell was gone, and instead replaced by something plain. She awoke with a start hearing voice, and more then that unfamiliar ones. She held her crossbow close to her in a ready position. But to her surprise it wasn’t intruders. In fact she wasn’t in her cottage at all. Nothing around her looked familiar. She cautiously stood up and jumped around when she heard someone start talking. She listened to him intently. Her ears twitching as he spoke. She turned to the other.... my god was that a giant?! Her eyes widened and as she arched her neck to look up at him. Her deep purple eyes staring at him in wide amazement.

Once he finished talking she turned to the person at the counter; ready to ask her own question. She raised her hand, and put it down much the same. Her small voice boomed through the room as she spoke. What she was lacking in height she made up with in personality and voice. “Uhm, yes many questions. I know you said you can’t ask HOW we got here, but how about WHY we’re here. At of all the trillions of people in the universe’s why us?” Her voice was not bossy or sarcastic. Rather it was more of sincerity and curiosity. Her posture asking much the same question. Her crossbow was tucked nicely under her arm, and at the disposal for any attack. Her deep purple eyes staring at both the one whom addressed as the Steve’s. Question and curiosity bared into her mind.
The vocal one turned to the small creature. This was a first, so curiosity and amusement were mutual. At her questions, he nodded in understanding. "Of course, we're here to answer all of your questions. As well as prevent you from falling through the tracks and getting crushed while trying to board," He stated, gesturing to the many signs near the gate about boarding safety. "Why you're here?" He restated with a pause, "Well," He then shrugged. "I dunno.". Perfect, that made everything better.

"And why you? Well.." He leaned over the counted to look down at the small creature. "Because the Universe Council saw you as completely and utterly useless." He said with the most sincere smile a man could give. He then burst into laughter, "Oh, no. No, that's not it. Just kidding!" As he recollected himself, he continued. "No, it's usually a random lot." He said carelessly, jotting yet another phrase into his notepad.
Ooooooooookay.... this was something weird. Don’t get me wrong, Cricket has woken up in some pretty weird place. But, like, she was 99% certain she’d spent the entire night hiding in a tree from an anal she-moose and NOT getting hella drunk.

The little black and white, anthropomorphic dog sat there there on the cold tiled floor, ears perked up tall and nose twitching as she sniffed and surveyed the strange station and the slumber party she just woke up to. It was a mostly human crowd- a race she’d seen- along with the pointyist eared gnome she’d ever seen, and she ruled out any of them knowing what was going on cause they all looked pret-ty damned confused themselves. That guy at the ticket booth looked kind of in charge, though.

Cricket opened her mouth and was about to ask if this was a hostage situation or if this was Hell....



... what came out was “HEY, SCUSE ME! ARE WE IN-“ and then she saw the ballon man “-Is that a puppet?”

“Oh good!” Cricket chirped “I was gonna ask that.”

Crickets ears and mouth dropped in an aghast expression. “AW WHAAAAT???” She whined. “And I MISSED it?!?!” She was both disappointed and surprised that she slept through such an event. And... survived? Hang on...

Cricket cocked her head. Sooooooo the world didn’t end end? She was a little turned around here. Maybe he meant “world” locally. Like “the world we know”. Whatever he meant, it certainly wasn’t HER world. Where the hell was America anyway? That must be a hell of a ways away from Alria since she never heard of it before. Sheesh!


Ok, there was a lot of talking there and Cricket only caught half of it. She’d been watching Balloon Head go nuts at the counter. (He-eh! Funny puppet. She couldn’t really see what he was slapping though. To short.). But here’s what she got:

• Civilization (so not literally the world) has been destroyed. Bummer.
• Free post-disaster train tour? HELL YEAH! That sounded awesome!
• There’s a magic genie box over there that gives you whatever you want except for needles and germs and “new-clear” weapons. Yep. That sounded right.
•Steve-o bolted the doors shut and wants everybody to stick together out there. Whatever you say MOM.
• Everything and everybody out there wants to kill you. Well DUH! That’s half the fun of an adventure!
• Don’t share any cups, or silverware, or dishes. Steve says so.

And just for that, she was gonna find all the spoons on the train and LICK em. Mwah-ha-ha!




The little canine raised her hand like an eager first grader. “Cricket Swatfly!” She called loudly. “And yeah, I got a question! Can Little Steve sign my haversack!”

Cricket patted her side, looked down around her feet and frowned. “Also,” she added “Where’s my haversack? And my backpack?”

(a haversack is a nondescript purse that people of both sexes would carry around well into the late Renaissance. Cricket is essentially a traveling hobo and her universe is just entering the age of steam.)
Both Steves noted the creature's enthusiasm, as well as their outward optimism. The vocal one spoke to her as well, "Yeah, sorry about you having to miss the whole world ending. It was pretty badass. You know how it goes, gangs and everything." He stated casually, motioning to an armband he wore. On the band was the symbol of an icicle. "I'm in the Cool Kids Club. You guys could probably join a group or something out there, but I'd recommend with a lot you trust."

Little Steve took note of the malice after sharing silverware was mentioned. He thought it'd be funny to see what she might do. Alas, he would not be joining this lot. He already readied his pen when she asked ever so kindly for an autograph, but his marker-drawn eyes darted around for the aforementioned bag. He let out a light sighing sound as he handed the pen back to Steve, a bit disappointed the bag wasn't around. "Ah, yeah, good to mention now. If you didn't sleep with it, you don't have it." He said, now gesturing to the vending machine. "But you are very welcome to ask for it. Little Steve, show 'em."

Little Steve hopped out of his chair, waddled his way from over the counter and stepped in front of the machine. The machine let out a light that surrounded Little Steve. The light switches off and prompts a screen, an icon of Little Steve in the corner, and next to it the number 17. Little Steve types something into an on-screen keyboard.

After pressing enter, the screen’s keyboard disappears, and in its place a loading wheel. The wheel becomes a check mark, and the 17 becomes a 16. Little Steve opens the door on the front of the vending machine and pulls his request, a box of matches. He sets it in his pocket and motions to the group. He’d point, then make a full open hand, signalling that they only had 5 requests each.
 

MrMopp

Two Thousand Club
K E E T H A N J O G L O
Keethan woke up, extremely disoriented. He got up, groaning, "The hell . . ?". This wasn't his bed. A bunch of neon signs were around him. Perhaps the oddest thing, was the balloon headed man. This must be a fever dream, dear god how much ibuprofen did I take last night?. Then the balloon man began to speak, and he decided to listen, wondering when will this dream end. Once he was finished e looked at the man, confused. He had not heard half of whatever he just said, as he was primarily focused on the 'End of the world'. "Wait . . . I just slept through the end of the world?" He looked relatively disappointed." How did it end, was it aliens, zombie virus, nuke?" He had always wanted to see a nuke explosion. "If it is a nuke explosion, is there any recordings of it? And also . . . how do you have a balloon head. Wait if you'r my dream, that means you are part of my mind so you should know. . . how much fucking ibuprofen DID I take last night?"​
( N-On-E-Mus N-On-E-Mus ) Cricket skewed an eyebrow at the guy. He was clearly overthinking his somatic existentialism here, so reaching up, she did him a favor and pinched him HARD on the waist. That oughta tell him if he’s dreaming.
(*) Everia Withe (*)
Everia had a long night of hunting. She caught so many wild deer and a few rabbits. This to her was the best it could be. Her in the wild by herself, the animals, and her trusty crossbow. She went to sleep in her small cottage feeling rather content her kill sitting on the table not that far away. The smell of death lingered in the air; a smell all to comforting to her. But when she woke up that morning the smell was gone, and instead replaced by something plain. She awoke with a start hearing voice, and more then that unfamiliar ones. She held her crossbow close to her in a ready position. But to her surprise it wasn’t intruders. In fact she wasn’t in her cottage at all. Nothing around her looked familiar. She cautiously stood up and jumped around when she heard someone start talking. She listened to him intently. Her ears twitching as he spoke. She turned to the other.... my god was that a giant?! Her eyes widened and as she arched her neck to look up at him. Her deep purple eyes staring at him in wide amazement.

Once he finished talking she turned to the person at the counter; ready to ask her own question. She raised her hand, and put it down much the same. Her small voice boomed through the room as she spoke. What she was lacking in height she made up with in personality and voice. “Uhm, yes many questions. I know you said you can’t ask HOW we got here, but how about WHY we’re here. At of all the trillions of people in the universe’s why us?” Her voice was not bossy or sarcastic. Rather it was more of sincerity and curiosity. Her posture asking much the same question. Her crossbow was tucked nicely under her arm, and at the disposal for any attack. Her deep purple eyes staring at both the one whom addressed as the Steve’s. Question and curiosity bared into her mind.
Cricket turned to look at her fellow shorty with ears and medieval getup, unthinkingly stretching her neck her direction and sniffing. She smirked wonderingly. There was something about that lady she liked. What was it? Was it her hight? The fact she was carrying a friggn’ cross bow? Maybe it was the moxie she held herself with while speaking...?

... No! Wait! it was totally the smell! Yeah! That’s what it was! A little Eau de Dead Rabbit she must have rubbed on! Nice to know SOME bald skins had good aromatic taste.
casually, motioning to an armband he wore. On the band was the symbol of an icicle. "I'm in the Cool Kids Club. You guys could probably join a group or something out there, but I'd recommend with a lot you trust."
Crickets ears perked up “Ooh! So like that one?” She asked, pointing at his Cool Kid armband. She was pretty sure she wasn’t a “kid”, but then neither was this guy.
Little Steve took note of the malice after sharing silverware was mentioned. He thought it'd be funny to see what she might do. Alas, he would not be joining this lot. He already readied his pen when she asked ever so kindly for an autograph, but his marker-drawn eyes darted around for the aforementioned bag. He let out a light sighing sound as he handed the pen back to Steve, a bit disappointed the bag wasn't around. "Ah, yeah, good to mention now. If you didn't sleep with it, you don't have it." He said, now gesturing to the vending machine. "But you are very welcome to ask for it. Little Steve, show 'em."
Cricket automatically figured he was talking about the Genie Box. “I can do that?” She asked, whipping her head in its direction. She grinned “Sweet!”
Little Steve hopped out of his chair, waddled his way from over the counter
Crickets head cocked back in surprise. What the-?
stepped in front of the machine.
Crickets jaw dropped a little and she looked back at the other castaways as if to ask are you guys seeing this? She’d thought Little Steve was just a muppet with sticks and strings! Still, Cricket knew how and when to roll with surprises (otherwise, with her “free spirited” lifestyle, she’d be dead or stuck in some max security prison), so quickly dismissing any disbelief, the little dog obediently followed the autonomous mannequin to the machine.
The machine let out a light that surrounded Little Steve. The light switches off and prompts a screen, an icon of Little Steve in the corner, and next to it the number 17. Little Steve types something into an on-screen keyboard.

After pressing enter, the screen’s keyboard disappears, and in its place a loading wheel. The wheel becomes a check mark, and the 17 becomes a 16. Little Steve opens the door on the front of the vending machine and pulls his request, a box of matches. He sets it in his pocket and motions to the group. He’d point, then make a full open hand, signalling that they only had 5 requests each.
Cricket watched the magic machine do its magic work with undivided, dog-like attentiveness. Coooooool.

“Sweet!” Cricket said, wagging her tail and grinning appreciatively at Little Steve, and of course, misinterpreting his five fingered gesture, she gave him a high five. “Ok, Lemme try.”

Stepping up to letter-panel Cricket carefully pressed the buttons with her thick, padded fingertips, and typed M-Y H-A-V-E-R-S-A-C-K.
 

Leon The Needled Riolu

Ready for action!
Foxen
Health: 80 / 80
Weapon: Unarmed (Get it?)




Foxen groaned, getting up slowly. Ugh. That was not a great nap. Barely any comfort could be obtained from that kind of rest. He quickly looked around, and started to listen to the character talking.
Steve begins, "Welcome all, faded or fully conscious, to your trip around Hell. figuratively at least. No, you're not dead, and no, this isn't actually Hell. This world's just ended, and you're the one of lucky lots who gets'ta take a world, or America-restricted trip around this wasteland."
Well, that didn't sound like the best of ideas in a wasteland like this. But, considering how he got here, there's not really a better option. 'Right, America, I've heard of it before. Apparently there are many different Earths.' The fox thought to himself, then patting himself down. 'Oh, jeez, where's my sword?!'

He gestures to the left of the counter. There, is a vending machine with no visible contents; the receivement area has a large door which takes up over half of the machine, which Steve begins to explain. “That machine right there’s a real wonder. I stole it, of course, but basically it‘s like a genie. You get that screen on, type what you want, and you use a request. You can literally ask for anything with the exception of living beings, more requests, and nuclear weapons. You also can’t ask for things like the AIDS virus concealed within a syringe.
'Oh, perfect, I could get my sword back with that. And well, that does make sense, we can't have such overpowered gifts. I guess there's also a limit on space.'

However, you can get boxes of things. So like, if any of ya’ll are snackers, get some. Also, you can get weapons and medicine, ammo too, but no painkillers. Oh, and ya got 5 requests. If y'all have any questions go ‘n ask. Well, anything except for ‘Who are you?’ Because as I said, my name is Steve, this is Little Steve,“ He says, gesturing back toward the balloon person slamming his hands on the keyboard.“‘Where am I?’ That’s simple, you’re in Territory 37, the coast of Japan. Specifically, you’re in Station 4, the station straight to Alaska.” Steve continues, “Oh, and no, how you got here doesn’t matter, no, you can’t just walk out, we’ve already super-bolted the doors, and yes, you’re going to have to travel as a group all together.”
'Huh. So, I could get boxes of ingredients for said nuclear weapons, but not the full thing. Got it. Actually, no, scratch that, why would I need nuclear objects? Well, maybe someone does, but surely not me. At least food can be provided and cooked... by me.' Foxen scratched his chin in thought. 'Coast of Japan eh? Well, makes sense. And Station four... Oh come on, we can't even leave? Meh, ya know what, these guys seem nice. I guess I'll stay.'

He snaps his fingers in realisation. “Oh! Also, it’s not a complete wasteland out there, we’re actually trying to rebuild society and stuff. You’re likely to meet people along the way, but ah, I’d advise the lot of you to be careful. There are some.. things.. out there that’ll be out to kill ya, people included. I’d just warn you,” He tilted his head low “Not everybody’s what they seem. There are some people out there who can be infected one day, then completely fine the next, an off and on thing. Don’t share forks, spoons, or cups with anyone except people you’re 100% sure are okay. The process is painful.”

He then sits straight back up. “Holy fuck, sorry, that was a lot. Anyways, you guys can- oh wait, oops, gotta ask for your names for ya tickets. If you’re not sure of all five of your requests, you’re cool, there‘s another vending machine on the train, but that’ll be it for a while.” He pulls out a sharpie and a notepad.

”So, who might you all be?”
'With all these cues, I'd assume they're zombies.' Foxen assumed. 'But with all that out of the way...'
"The name's Foxen, sir!" Foxen happily said with a smile and a thumbs up. "I'd be glad to join this group of yours."​
 

ddavidgayvidd

The Mastermind
David "Sleuth" Fredrickson
The Unspoken Observant
HP: 90/90


The man watched silently, his dark green eyes widened in amazement since the very moment they opened. He looked down at himself, quite glad he'd not fallen asleep in pajamas. That would be quite embarrassing. However, he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't like he had anything to say, nor was it like he could even talk in the first place. He simply stood and dusted himself with unease, carefully watching the array of equally confused/entertained folk.
He pulls out a sharpie and a notepad.

”So, who might you all be?”
Sleuth pointed to the man's notepad, as if asking for it. He stood at the counter, looking up at what could be assumed to be a person much taller than himself.
 

Syfer

But sometimes the line of truth and lies falter.
(*) Everia Withe (*)
As soon as her question was answered she payed no mind to anyone. She hugged her crossbow closer to her and started walking around. She ignored every other person that seemed to be standing in shock. She approached the vending machine and look at it. Tilting her head and trying to look at it from all angles. This thing made no sense. "What on Vama?" She muttered to herself kicking the side of it. She didn't understand how this thing could generate anything. She decided to give it a shot. So as soon as the other smallie got away from it she stepped up to the screen. She looked at the foreign figures on the screen. What language was that? She thought for a moment as she stared at the letters. "Oh.." she said recalling the written English language she learned about a few years ago. She cleared her throat and tried to remember it the best she could. She looked at all of the English character and carefully typed out. 'A-B-O-X-O-F-B-A-G-E-L-S' then clicked enter and waited for a moment. She then repeated what The other little guy did and opened the door. And there it sat a carboard box; with what she assumed to be filled with bagels. She then realized that she was as big as the box. She narrowed her eyes at the box that could potentially be her bed. She huffed and tried her best to get it out. Wiggling each side a little at a time. She was able to get it out of the door, but no further. She leaned against the side of the cardboard box and caught her breath. "Oh... My... *gasp*... Gosh!" She heaved out. The box was really heavy for a person of her size. She wouldn't be able to move it any farther without help, and no matter how hard she tried she knew she wouldn't be able to. Still she wouldn't admit it.
 

Leon The Needled Riolu

Ready for action!
Foxen
HP: 80 / 80
Weapon: Unarmed


Foxen continued to look around, starting to like the appearance of the place itself. Weird, strange, but unique and possibly fun!
(*) Everia Withe (*)
She narrowed her eyes at the box that could potentially be her bed. She huffed and tried her best to get it out. Wiggling each side a little at a time. She was able to get it out of the door, but no further. She leaned against the side of the cardboard box and caught her breath. "Oh... My... *gasp*... Gosh!" She heaved out. The box was really heavy for a person of her size. She wouldn't be able to move it any farther without help, and no matter how hard she tried she knew she wouldn't be able to. Still she wouldn't admit it.
Foxen, noticing Everia's struggles, walked over to them. While normally people came to him for help, he was certain that she needed help, and she was too stubborn to say so. Foxen had seen this kind of personality trait before, and yet they are best friends. Foxen pondered about his friends for a moment before going back to reality. Politely, Foxen asked, "Say, do you need any help moving that box? I can tell ya need help with it."​
 

MrMopp

Two Thousand Club
Cricket grinned as the machine coughed up her bag, a dirty- and in her opinion, WONDERFULLY smelly- old thing about the size of a laptop with a flap that folded over like an envelope and fastened shut with a wooden button. “Nice!” She said. She grabbed the rugged purse and was further heartened to find a few small lumps in the bottom. “Got my crap and everything!”

(*) Everia Withe (*)
As soon as her question was answered she payed no mind to anyone. She hugged her crossbow closer to her and started walking around. She ignored every other person that seemed to be standing in shock. She approached the vending machine and look at it. Tilting her head and trying to look at it from all angles. This thing made no sense. "What on Vama?" She muttered to herself kicking the side of it. She didn't understand how this thing could generate anything. She decided to give it a shot. So as soon as the other smallie got away from it she stepped up to the screen. She looked at the foreign figures on the screen. What language was that? She thought for a moment as she stared at the letters. "Oh.." she said recalling the written English language she learned about a few years ago. She cleared her throat and tried to remember it the best she could. She looked at all of the English character and carefully typed out. 'A-B-O-X-O-F-B-A-G-E-L-S' then clicked enter and waited for a moment. She then repeated what The other little guy did and opened the door. And there it sat a carboard box; with what she assumed to be filled with bagels. She then realized that she was as big as the box. She narrowed her eyes at the box that could potentially be her bed. She huffed and tried her best to get it out. Wiggling each side a little at a time. She was able to get it out of the door, but no further. She leaned against the side of the cardboard box and caught her breath. "Oh... My... *gasp*... Gosh!" She heaved out. The box was really heavy for a person of her size. She wouldn't be able to move it any farther without help, and no matter how hard she tried she knew she wouldn't be able to. Still she wouldn't admit it.
Hearing one of her new friends in the Short-Squad come up behind her, Cricket politely stepped aside to let What’s-Her-Bucket with the ears have whirl with the machine (it’s only fair, right?). Then of course she cocked her head quizzically at the oversized box that was produced. “Dayyyy’um, girl!” She laughed, a hand on her hip and a wry grin on her muzzle, tickled by the apparent gusto in this order as she watched the woman struggle to move it. “What did you order? A tool shed?

Leaning forward, Cricket gave the box a few appraising sniff, followed by a few scrutinizing snuffs, and then shot the lady a weird and very inquisitive look. “....Aaaaaaaaa tool shed full of Bagels?
Politely, Foxen asked, "Say, do you need any help moving that box? I can tell ya need help with it."
“Ya gonna share, right?” Cricket almost interrupted to suggested, licking her chops greedily. She reckoned a little breakfast was due and was happy to help a comrade lighten their load.
 

Leon The Needled Riolu

Ready for action!
Foxen
HP: 80 / 80
Weapon: Unarmed

Foxen was still insistent on assisting, but there was another voice around.
“Ya gonna share, right?” Cricket almost interrupted to suggested, licking her chops greedily. She reckoned a little breakfast was due and was happy to help a comrade lighten their load.
Foxen overheard Cricket's commentary, and decided to look over at them for a moment. "Oh, hey there! Did you appear here as well?" Foxen quickly asked, but then thought about it. "Actually, no, wait, that's how we all got there. Uh- And maybe we should leave the lady to their bagels? There isn't much for us to use it for."
 
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MrMopp

Two Thousand Club
"Oh, hey there! Did you appear here as well?" Foxen quickly asked
That comment earned Foxen a tilted head and a fish-eyed look that suggested he’d just asked if she was a polka dot platypus.

but then thought about it. "Actually, no, wait, that's how we all got there.
Cricket grinned and giggled bemusedly. This guy was a dork!
“Uh- And maybe we should leave the lady to their bagels? There isn't much for us to use it for."
Cricket lifted an eyebrow. “Uh, counterpoint:” She argued, turning a palm up. “My face has use for it??”
 
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Leon The Needled Riolu

Ready for action!
Foxen
Health: 80 / 80
Weapon: Unarmed


Getting a response, much more an actual person talking to him, was a great thing to be experiencing. Communication is key out here!

That comment earned Foxen a tilted head and a fish-eyed look that suggested he’d just asked if she was a polka dot platypus.
However, a reaction like this wasn't nice. Rude, really.

Cricket grinned and giggled bemusedly.
What was funny about him? His hair? Ears? Disembodied hands?

Cricket lifted an eyebrow. “Uh, counterpoint:” She argued, turning a palm up. “My face has use for it??”
Ohhh, she thought he was stupid! Ugh, this is why he usually thinks first. "Okay, sure, but the lady summoned it first???? We aren't stealing food???? From people???????"​
 

Syfer

But sometimes the line of truth and lies falter.
(*) Everia Withe (*)
Foxen, noticing Everia's struggles, walked over to them. While normally people came to him for help, he was certain that she needed help, and she was too stubborn to say so. Foxen had seen this kind of personality trait before, and yet they are best friends. Foxen pondered about his friends for a moment before going back to reality. Politely, Foxen asked, "Say, do you need any help moving that box? I can tell ya need help with it."
Seeing the stranger walk up to her she perked her head up. She squinted hding her crossbow up slightly. She was half protecting her box and herself. Seeing as the creature was lost in thought she eased a moment; then he spoke. Everia scoff and folded her arms. She didn't want to admit the fact she need help. She couldn't. "I'm fine thank you." She said coldly. She didn't want to admit it, but she wasn't going to lie and say she wasn't having trouble. So she left it at that. Then she realized this gentleman was her height.
Hearing one of her new friends in the Short-Squad come up behind her, Cricket politely stepped aside to let What’s-Her-Bucket with the ears have whirl with the machine (it’s only fair, right?). Then of course she cocked her head quizzically at the oversized box that was produced. “Dayyyy’um, girl!” She laughed, a hand on her hip and a wry grin on her muzzle, tickled by the apparent gusto in this order as she watched the woman struggle to move it. “What did you order? A tool shed?

Leaning forward, Cricket gave the box a few appraising sniff, followed by a few scrutinizing snuffs, and then shot the lady a weird and very inquisitive look. “....Aaaaaaaaa tool shed full of Bagels?
Everia eyed the girl like she was an idiot, and from the way she was speaking it sounded like she was. "What?" She asked the girl giving her and up down look. "Why would I order a toolshed?" She asked her shaking her own head. Lifting her hand from her crossbow; seeing as no one was armed and no one seemed to have any common sense. She huffed and stood up straight to stop leaning on her bagels. She cast a light glare at her look. "What's wrong with bagels?" she asked dryly.
“Ya gonna share, right?” Cricket almost interrupted to suggested, licking her chops greedily. She reckoned a little breakfast was due and was happy to help a comrade lighten their load.
Everia smirked and crossed her arms. "Give me one good reason why I should." She said her eyes tickling with amusement.
Foxen overheard Cricket's commentary, and decided to look over at them for a moment. "Oh, hey there! Did you appear here as well?" Foxen quickly asked, but then thought about it. "Actually, no, wait, that's how we all got there. Uh- And maybe we should leave the lady to their bagels? There isn't much for us to use it for."
Everia stopped to cast a grateful look to Foxen. She uncrossed her arms and smiled at him. "Yeah leave me to my bagels." She said after Foxen made his remark.
Cricket lifted an eyebrow. “Uh, counterpoint:” She argued, turning a palm up. “My face has use for it??”
Everia frowned she pointed at the lady in front of her. "You are NOT eating my bagels. I may share, but right now I don't see the point in it." she said her voice being slightly louder than before.
"Okay, sure, but the lady summoned it first???? We aren't stealing food???? From people???????"
Everia nodded in agreement. "Exactly. I summoned them they're mine." She said nodding her head.​
 

Leon The Needled Riolu

Ready for action!
Foxen
Health: 80 / 80
Weapon: Unarmed


Foxen seemed a bit tempted to keep the argument going, however...


Everia stopped to cast a grateful look to Foxen. She uncrossed her arms and smiled at him. "Yeah leave me to my bagels." She said after Foxen made his remark.
Foxen made sure to smile back in a friendly way, his fiery tail wagging slightly.
Everia nodded in agreement. "Exactly. I summoned them they're mine." She said nodding her head.
"See? She agrees!" Foxen quickly said, crossing his hands like one would cross their arms. "She knows how it works! Speaking of which, could I use the machine next? I need to get a few more bits and pieces of my gear so that way I can properly defend myself against attacks."​
 

yourlocal-eboyy

boots with the fur
Both Steves watched as the lot of munchkins made their curious little way to the machine. Steve himself placed his head in his hand, writing down the various nicknames he planned to put on everybody’s train tickets. Little Steve looked at his notes, then turned to copy each one on the computer he was at. Highlighter yellow printer paper was loaded in the printer behind them, but all Little Steve waited for was the go to print. He went through, copying everyone’s names, putting their nickname directly under. This was all in white text, so each ticket was virtually impossible to read. The idea from Little Steve himself. The balloon turned his head to the bunch, a sort of ‘longed’ look in his little marker eyes.

From behind the counter, he looked at his bag of paints and markers, a ticket of his own all worn and torn due to the time gap between his trip. The little one recounted the days and huffed lightly. He continued his work on the computer. Meanwhile, the man with the blue hair looked to the small group as well. His eyes were wide with confusion and fear. Children? They‘re sending children into the wasteland? He idea disgusted him. Not the idea of ‘kids‘ being sent to die, no. But the idea that he was going to be the one DRIVING these little idiots around. He grimaced, shoving the car keys to his pocket as he shuffled to the machine, trying his best not to step on one of them. “Move it, rats.” He said rudely, shifting his leg around to try and push them out of the way. “Driver’s rights, I get the machine next.” He demands.

The printer whirs, tickets begin to be printed. Steve looked up to the broken clock on the wall. “Ten minutes, gamers. Come get your tickets. If you try to enter the train without one, you’ll be crushed by the doors.” He said nonchalantly, making it unclear wether this was true or not.
 

Leon The Needled Riolu

Ready for action!
Foxen
Health: 80 / 80
Weapon: Unarmed



Whilst waiting for an answer from Everia-
He grimaced, shoving the car keys to his pocket as he shuffled to the machine, trying his best not to step on one of them. “Move it, rats.” He said rudely, shifting his leg around...
"Rats?!" Foxen moved out of the way. "Wha- Hey! I need my sword! I use it all the time! We're even in a line and-"

...to try and push them out of the way. “Driver’s rights, I get the machine next.” He demands.
"Hey! Actually- Wait, yeah. He *is* the driver. I can't exactly complain..." Foxen sighed dejectedly, sending his left hand over to grab his ticket. His hand flew away from his body over to the tickets and grabbed his ticket. He then began to waiting game for his turn on the machine.​
 

MrMopp

Two Thousand Club
"What's wrong with bagels?" she asked dryly.
Cricket shrugged honestly. “Nuthin”.
Everia smirked and crossed her arms. "Give me one good reason why I should." She said her eyes tickling with amusement.
Cricket put on a big’ ol grin and her biggest puppy eyes and leaned forward in a cutesy fashion with her hands behind her back. “Cause Ill be your best frie-eeeeend!” She sang, batting her eyelashes. Bagels or no, she was having fun with this now.
Everia frowned she pointed at the lady in front of her. "You are NOT eating my bagels. I may share, but right now I don't see the point in it." she said her voice being slightly louder than before.
Crickets whole face frowned. Her grin dropped, her ears drooped, and her posture stooped. But not for long. An ear perked up in bitter sweet optimism. She’d just been put in her place by a more assertive (and therefore higher ranking) pack team member, and that wasn’t fun, BUT it was good to know where the pecking order lay. After all, she was a dog, thus she didn’t care too much where she fit on the ladder just as long as there was one and just as long she had a place and purpose on it. Besides, the gall said “maybe” she was going to share, so in her mind that was as good as “definitely probably yes”.
"Okay, sure, but the lady summoned it first???? We aren't stealing food???? From people???????"
Everia nodded in agreement. "Exactly. I summoned them they're mine." She said nodding her head.
"See? She agrees!" Foxen quickly said, crossing his hands like one would cross their arms. "She knows how it works!"
Cricket threw her paws up defensively at this attack and with a melodramatic eye-roll and slow turnabout of her body, cried. “Aye-aye-aye!” Chew me alive!” as she walked away from the Box of Bagel Related Crankiness. “I was just ASK’n!”
“Speaking of which, could I use the machine next? I need to get a few more bits and pieces of my gear so that way I can properly defend myself against attacks."
Cricket, already over her righteous indignation, gave a good natured shrug. “Yeah, Knock yourself dead!”
Meanwhile, the man with the blue hair looked to the small group as well. His eyes were wide with confusion and fear. Children? They‘re sending children into the wasteland? He idea disgusted him. Not the idea of ‘kids‘ being sent to die, no. But the idea that he was going to be the one DRIVING these little idiots around. He grimaced, shoving the car keys to his pocket as he shuffled to the machine, trying his best not to step on one of them. “Move it, rats.” He said rudely, shifting his leg around to try and push them out of the way. “Driver’s rights, I get the machine next.” He demands.
Cricket had almost paced into the guy and jumped back with a start.
"Hey! Actually- Wait, yeah. He *is* the driver. I can't exactly complain..."
Cricket shot the fox guy a quick, pitying glance before doing him a favor and complaining for him. “I can!” She called to the human, raising her hand up high like a good little grade schooler. “You’re a dick! And who said you could drive?” She’d never seen an auto mobile before so the keys meant nothing to her and she’d assumed he was talking about driving the train. Not that she knew how to drive one herself (much less could anyone here but this guy see out the window without a footstool), but she hadn’t thought that far before challenging the dickhead just to argue with him.
The printer whirs, tickets begin to be printed. Steve looked up to the broken clock on the wall. “Ten minutes, gamers. Come get your tickets. If you try to enter the train without one, you’ll be crushed by the doors.” He said nonchalantly, making it unclear wether this was true or not.
Crickets head whipped around in interest. “Woah! For real?” she said to no one, grinning wonderingly. She was SO gonna stick stuff in the door. Like walnuts!
Foxen sighed dejectedly, sending his left hand over to grab his ticket. His hand flew away from his body over to the tickets and grabbed his ticket. He then began to waiting game for his turn on the machine.
Crickets grin dropped in shock and her eyes dilated as the foxes disembodied hand- which she had SO not noticed before- floated over to the counter, grabbed his ticket, and floated back to him. She blinked hard. “WOAH. Dude.”
 
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Leon The Needled Riolu

Ready for action!
Foxen
Health: 80 / 80
Weapon: Okay you get the point-

Foxen listened into Cricket's commentary and made comments of his own.

Cricket shot the fox guy a quick, pitying glance before doing him a favor and complaining for him. “I can!”
"Wha- No, you can't just-" Foxen was about to stop Cricket.

She called to the human, raising her hand up high like a good little grade schooler. “You’re a dick! And who said you could drive?"
"I- Actually, she makes a good point." Foxen used his hands to tally up the amount of points they had.



The printer whirs, tickets begin to be printed. Steve looked up to the broken clock on the wall. “Ten minutes, gamers. Come get your tickets. If you try to enter the train without one, you’ll be crushed by the doors.” He said nonchalantly, making it unclear wether this was true or not.
Crickets head whipped around in interest. “Woah! For real?”
Now it was Foxen's turn to stifle a chuckle. They had a small kiddo mindset like he did.


Crickets grin dropped in shock and her eyes dilated as the foxes disembodied hand- which she had SO not noticed before- floated over to the counter, grabbed his ticket, and floated back to him. She blinked hard. “WOAH. Dude.”
Foxen smiled. "Impressed? That's just one of the many things I can do!" Foxen said. He let one hand drop to the ground, and then started to juggle it and a piece of rubble on the ground with his other hand. "Ta da!" Foxen chuckled at his own theatrics.​
 
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MrMopp

Two Thousand Club
Foxen smiled. "Impressed? That's just one of the many things I can do!" Foxen said. He let one hand drop to the ground, and then started to juggle it and a piece of rubble on the ground with his other hand. "Ta da!" Foxen chuckled at his own theatrics.
Cricket watched the act delightedly. Not that this trick outdid the first surprise by a long shot, but that he was juggling his own hand was goofy enough to warrant a wide grin and a giggle. “Heh-eh!

(Aright, I’m about ready to move on.)
 
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Leon The Needled Riolu

Ready for action!
Foxen
Health: 80 / 80
Weapon: Unarmed


Cricket watched the act delightedly. Not that this trick outdid the first surprise by a long shot, but that he was juggling his own hand was goofy enough to warrant a wide grin and a giggle. “Heh-eh!
"Great to hear that somebody likes my skills." Foxen said, regaining control of his juggled hand, grabbed the rubble with said hand, tossing it upwards, and Foxen did a back-kickflip to launch that sucker behind himself. He kicked that rubble pretty hard.​
 
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