Adam
About
- Username
- Adam
- Joined
- Visits
- 891
- Last Active
- Roles
- Administrator
Comments
-
Son of a bitch... I'm running for the chunk of ice, and motioning for people to follow me out. I'm not exactly at full strength right now, but a few days of swinging a pickaxe will definitely give you some strength. Speaking of a pickaxe... I'm goi…
-
We lost Zippo. He was one of the guys Wandering brought in, who spent years addicted to ice... He didn't have shit for fat on him when we ran out of food, and he died curled up in a frozen ball, desperately clawing at the ice down in the fish tunnel…
-
OOC: Rolling. Roll+Hard. +1XP. (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 2, 4. Total: 9)
-
Ok... So I guess we hole up and fucking starve then. I nod gravely, and head back to the mines. "If I'm going to die of starvation, I'm going to die trying to get the fuck out of here."
-
Why is everyone in my gang a bunch of spineless, clueless dicks? Aren't we all about to fucking die unless we work together? "Arbor's passed out with the shakes trying to kick his Ice addiction," I mutter back, "but when he was conscious, he said t…
-
That sounds reasonable... Except I just put Invert in charge there... "Wandering's a heavy lifter, and we need him working the digging — but I'll get Poptart off food duty for sure. What about John? He's been causing too much grief for his own good.…
-
I pinch the bridge of my nose, and sigh loudly... This isn't going how I'd hoped. "I want you, Tap, and John to stay the fuck away from Poptart, alright? Tell me how we close the book on this – and food isn't an option." OOC: What does Steak wish I…
-
OOC: Holding 3. I hold up a finger to Tapoff, and shoot him an impatient look for good measure, before turning back to Steak. "But did you draw on her? Steak, this shit is important. Poptart's in charge of our food — but I can't have her shooting o…
-
OOC: I'm reading Steak Tar Tar. Roll+Sharp. (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 4, 5. Total: 10)
-
"We're all fucking starving," I grunt back, "rations will keep us alive long enough so we don't starve to death – now tell me the whole of it... Did you say anything, or do anything that you might shoot a man for? Tell me the truth."
-
I take a few seconds to make sure the wounds are closing as I swab the blood out of the way, and try to avoid making eye-contact with Steak when he calls my touch "magic"... Fuck if I know what it is, but I guess that's probably right. Who'd have th…
-
OOC: Healing Touch. Roll+Weird. +1XP. (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 6, 3. Total: 10)
-
Poptart didn't even give the fucker a warning shot? ... Shit. "I don't give a shit what that asshole wants," I mutter back as I carefully put my hands over the more serious wound, and to conjure up that healing energy I've been getting so comfortab…
-
"Yeah, great." I call back, flatly, as I continue back down to the sub. I'm not surprised that Long John fucked off... He's probably out sewing malcontent, and plotting to kill Poptart. I'm not really looking forward to the day I have to put a bull…
-
Son of a bitch... I'm not a fucking law maker — I just fucking rounded these people up — I don't want to settle their shit... I nod patiently to Inessa, and pat her on the shoulder... "Well, he isn't dead yet... I'll talk to him." I guess I should …
-
"We're going to die if we poke our heads out of this fucking hole without them," I bark back, "I'm not saying they get extra food for extra work – just don't fucking shoot our own, unless you wanna let Merr and his fucking dickheads roll in here to …
-
Once they're gone, I shake my head and mutter, "could you be any more cryptic? What the fuck did he really do?"
-
Ouch. I glance down to Steak Tar Tar for a moment, wondering if he was smart enough to wear a codpiece — or if Poptart really is that good of a shot — then turn back to Long John, and mutter, "get him back to the fucking sub... I'll try and patch hi…
-
I look to Poptart, "What's your side of this?"
-
OOC: Pack Alpha. Roll+Hard. +1XP. (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 4. Total: 12)
-
Son of a bitch. I come careening around the corner, and cock my shotgun loudly — trying to draw everyone's attention. "Everyone puts their guns down, now! John! Tapoff! Poptart! Everyone fucking back off!"
-
What the fuck was that? I ready my shotgun and bolt for the shots. What the fuck else could go wrong?
-
I want the whole gang out and working. We've gotta dig if we want to live. No exceptions.
-
I smirk at the monsters comment — I've never heard them called that before — and let her debase herself for a second trying to recover from rejection. "You're thinking straight — don't be so hard on yourself — and we'll get out." I slip into my bra,…
-
I'm glad she gets it... She's better off for it, even if it'll take her a while to realize. I let my hand slide off her cheek, and offer her one last smirk before I scoop my tits up into my arm, and push myself off the bed to look for my bra. I do …
-
I relax my shoulders, and put a hand up to Invert's cheek... I feel kind of bad for letting her down, but this really isn't my gig. "In another world — one where I wasn't with Jester, and I was into chicks — I'd take you up on that... But you and me…
-
This is not good... I'm not really into women, per-say, and I really don't want to be a hypocrite with Jester. If he was here with me, that'd be a different story... I'm sure this would be right up his alley too. I bite my lip contemplatively, and m…
-
I squint coyly at her, "brutal, huh? ... Well, you kissed a hell of a lot better than that asshole Toe-hold did. I'm not trying to complicate things, Invert... I don't know what it is you want from me, but I wish you'd just come out and say it."
-
"Invert," I whisper, rolling to face her, "back with Toe-hold... You didn't exactly seem too bummed out about having to sleep with me..."
-
... Ok... I can't just sit here and play dumb anymore. I need to know what's going on in that head of hers. OOC: Reading Invert. Roll+Sharp. (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 4, 3. Total: 8)