Kaillan
About
- Username
- Kaillan
- Joined
- Visits
- 38
- Last Active
- Roles
- Member
Comments
-
Molotov: I let the sheet of opaque plastic that is door fall behind me. The 'floor' is ice, three feet deep; I remember looking down before, so do not now, but is like - grave, da? Is black shapes, kneeling, preserved beneath my studded boots. Mayb…
-
Molotov: "Do svidaniya", I am saying loud enough for Hadden as he leaves, though maybe I am mumbling little bit. I am on side, on bed, looking at door close when soon, like snap, sleep swallows me. What a fucked up day.
-
Molotov: To me, feels like metal worm being evicted, biting and wriggling on way out. Not quick tug, but I'm zoning out to song about coal mine. I pour vodka over wound and little river of red run down chest, soaking jacket. What is coal? Is bad tr…
-
Molotov: I take swig of vodka, and it burns down throat - for moment I am warm inside, forgetting many things. Keep it? I'm going to say nyet, and even start to shake head, but good thought comes to mind and I'm knowing where to put that bullet. "H…
-
Molotov: I sink onto mattress and springs make screeching like army of locusts. This bed was made before Winter; it is ancient, rusting, and smells like sweat of thousand men. It smells like cells of Mill. For me, there is no home. I move, and tak…
-
Molotov: Hngh. I look at backside of Misty as she leaves - not bad, maybe. Still question why you leave is ringing in my ears and maybe I am just thinking glad to avoid that, so glad I would fuck her till shutting up. Or, maybe just fuck her. I'm …
-
Molotov: 'Cheddar,' as people are calling him, shoots me two hard questions, and I'm leaning back as if falling little bit, but hit wall with shoulders. I know this will leave blood spot on wall, like scene of murder. "Nyet, not too bad, just bulle…
-
Molotov: We're in stairwell now, alone, so I take few steps up to be more alone and I'm guessing Hadden is following. I shrug again, this time at him, for same reason, to seem not interested as I tell, "Is bit of problem." And secretly grateful to …
-
Molotov: Nyet, is not something I hate - the smell is fresh pine, coming from little plastic tree around her neck. She wears it as necklace. Maybe when door is closing, I'm seeing this, and it says all faded Car Fresh, and I'm seeing her tattoos an…
-
Molotov: I would be saying, "Da, it is weakness the way she is talking, like, what is reason for not getting to point, and talking this way? Be full of self, or little shits will be taking advantage." But, I am standing here, bullet in shoulder. Ma…
-
Molotov: I nod at Hadden to let him know I am being thankful and then this Misty woman, to let her know get the fuck on with it. My Opperator is smiling, like he is content with self, and I'm knowing this will mean favor for him in future. But this…
-
Molotov: I grunt and lumber through the door - it's not exact dialect, but Hadden does this little things, to be making you feel at home in his presence. I know he is working me, but feels good to hear old words. "Zdrasti. Is simply put, arm fucked…
-
Molotov: It has been hours since I was shot at the Grease Park, over on 47th - and I was spending that time running, not thinking. At some point I took off belt to wrap around shoulder, but left arm is numb and dangling. I'm thinking, and knowing, …
-
Molotov: We are two, both running for this moment, and engines roaring in distance, cracked lights illuminating the ugly that is Chi-town. But, it is covered in snow and ice, as if saying, "Sorry for that." Ross has this plan, even if plan is only…
-
Molotov: How? Why? She is up there like angel with my old gun and that smile I don't deserve and a look like, "Get yourself the fuck out of here." And my mouth is raw, wet a little with blood. If she were my girl and she did this to me, I would cu…
-
OOC: Fuck this shit. Roll+Hard. +1XP (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 4, 4. Total: 11)
-
Molotov: There is moment where silence shatters like glass, and Carnation is running, with brains inside his skull. And then my gut drops, hitting like - bullets, flashes, everywhere. A part of me is speaking simple maths in Russian, like, six is…
-
OOC: Act Under Fire. Roll+Hard. +1XP (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 1, 4. Total: 8)
-
Molotov: I tut, which is nice to do - is like, this guy is baby, and oops what has he done, and I look away from that asshole as he spits words in my face. So I see asphalt, and this place is a dump, grease everywhere, and my hand slips out and the…
-
Molotov: "Nyet. Is not like that," I say and I'm half sure, but I do not know what FTD means. "This J, he is promising me jingle and is time for pay up. I've done business here before, you know, I'm okay, da?" I do this thing, head shrug, like, da …
-
Molotov: I make note of six, and Suitcase, in some little part of brain that is ready for bullets hitting fan. Is constant sense of nothing wrong here from all the surprise and greetings and, I guess, is short-staffed here today, like we aren't exp…
-
Molotov: Okay, that rifle through window, up there on third car, next to gate? So I mention it, then dismiss it, and Suitcase is being the why. You know, is hard, fucked up, world, with weak people and strong people and people who survive. Is easy …
-
Molotov: That is sweet spot Carnation found on 47th, so he knew spoils rolling in soon. And this is truth, rolling in on four wheels, sometimes two, sometimes skis. So he found nearby parking lot - and rest is history, everybody know. Is called Gre…
-
Molotov: He laughs and tells me to leave that door suka alone. Hah. What is he thinking, I would plug her like with bullet, or be taking for myself? I'm thinking about this for little while, while he shifts, because why not - nice face, strong, may…
-
Molotov: He is not looking at me, but what does one scarf matter to other? He is whole pile of them with hands, for killing, like broken machine who has taste for blood who strangles master, like is shown in moving pictures flashed on walls for kic…
-
Molotov: "Nyet," I grunt with a shake of the head. He's calm. He and I - see? Similar. He could be good-for-nothin'-snitch and still be calm. Not many people but this guy. I find a place against the beam easy, but no leaning back. I put weight on n…
-
Molotov: Ross and I, we are similar. I think this as I approach, seeing him concealed by concrete and a minor flurry of snow, seeing nothing but scarves and tinted goggles, concealed even in plain sight. You wouldn't see it coming, when we snap, bu…
-
Molotov: As I walk, the cold starts to seep through my jacket and quell that gut-flame of anger and frustration. I'm hugging the street-side, keeping my hood down; occasionally I notice the tracks of Endeavor's sled. Okay, I think to myself, what…
-
Molotov: Is easy pickings, but Carnation and boys are sort to be grabbing at low-hanging fruit. And there're rumors in Underground about a big score last night, on 47th.
-
Molotov: CLICK is now the sound of safety. I'm squinting and thinking and my gun is back in my pocket. Why was Endeavor here? He is sights, lookout, delivery boy, quick-finger. If he was in Mill, he would have cat inked on body by now, so light are…