upcyclingmod: (Default)
upcyclingmod ([personal profile] upcyclingmod) wrote in [community profile] pedalbike2020-08-29 10:30 am
Entry tags:

First TDM: Sterile Blues


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Arrival



Not all characters (known as Wickie, singular or Wickies, plural) arrive at the same time, surprisingly enough! That’s life for you. Some Wickies find their way to the island at a pivotal (or very mundane) point in their life, or even after or during their death.

Wickies who were standing or walking often find themselves entering the town South Sister, located on Lighthouse Isle, through an open doorway. Those that were laying down, or sleeping, tend to be found lying prone in beds, bathtubs, showers, couches, and similar places within the cottages on Cottage Row. There’s no rhyme or reason to it all! To Wickies familiar with the era, they will realize that everything looks as if it’s come from the ‘90s.

The house which a Wickie finds themselves within could already be occupied. This includes walking into a fellow Wicke, waking up in the same location, or accidentally scaring a room full of people with their sudden appearance.

Oops.


Sterile Blues


After arriving, Wickes will find that food and water are easy enough to come by, as they can be readily found in the various houses which populate Lighthouse Isle. Medical supplies, on the other hand, are not so easily acquired. Bandaids and other simple trappings can be pilfered from the odd medical cabinet, but otherwise you’re on your own.

Thankfully, if a Wickie or their friend are in need of medicine or a pair of trauma shears, while you won’t find a full-fledged hospital on the island, there is a clinic. The clinic, named Sister’s Helpers, is like the rest of the buildings in town. Its appearance is well kept, and the doors are unlocked. Whether the Wickie goes in through the windows (because they can), or through the front door like most would, they’ll find that the clinic’s interior is crisp, clean, and orderly. There are plastic chairs, a desk where a receptionist would sit, white walls, but then—

There’s a sound. It could be mistaken for a breeze, at first. But as the sound goes on, it becomes more obvious that the ‘breeze’ is an exhale, prolonged and forced. At the end, there’s a murmur, professional and assuring.

“That’s good. Breathe.”

And with that, the clinic becomes awash in shades of blue. Sister’s Helpers itself hasn’t become warped in any way. There is only monochromatic coloring which, upon further realization, is not truly in the building, but a problem with their vision. Leaving without investigating further will mean having blue vision for the next twenty-four hours.

But for Wickies who choose to stay and explore, there is a chance at clearing their vision. This is is especially difficult for those who have a history of not taking care of their injuries. Gradually, it becomes more difficult to walk, as if there are weights on their feet. For Wickies are especially guilty of not tending to their wounds, their movements will become even more sluggish, and weight will settle on their arms and chest, forcing the worst of offenders into a crawl as they explore from room to room.

Laying on the patient beds will alleviate the situation for a short amount of time. The cure, however, will come from characters taking the supplies which they need for themselves and not for others.

If the Wickie fails this, over the course of an hour they will be crushed to death, and will eventually wake up outside of the clinic. Their vision stuck in shades of red with a weakness in their limbs for the next twenty four hours.

The Wickie’s only cure for that is either taking medical supplies for themselves or by doing some form of self care.


Ashes, Ashes


It’s the middle of the night when all the Wickies are jarred awake from sleep by the blare of a broken siren. Wailing into the dark, the siren functions as a foghorn might, warning of hazardous conditions to come. Beneath Wickies feet, the ground trembles, pulsating once. Twice. Three times. And again, and again until—

The world changes, and it is no longer the foggy island the Wickies knew.

Ash falls steadily from above, blanketing the ground, and at first glance it can be mistaken for snow. Whether by scent, by touch, or even by taste (an option for the brave, the bold, the few), the truth of the ‘snowfall’ can be easily revealed. It is strange, though, that there are no signs of fire in the vicinity. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be much of anything at all. There’s still no sign of the mainland. There are no buildings in this desolate place, either.

Lighting in this new landscape is hazy and sullen, but still conducive to exploring despite it being the dead of night just moments ago. But while Wickies walk, there’s a growing feeling of foreboding. There’s something… something else with them.

And it conceals itself in the ash.

It attacks by lashing out to grab at the ankles and the calves, attempting to drag the unsuspecting victim down, to somewhere far deeper and hidden by billowing piles of ash. It’s easy to save a Wickie from the pull, so long as they’re quickly freed from their assailants grasp. Retrieving someone out of the ash itself is nigh impossible, though.

Grabbed Wickies who lived to tell the tale, may find themselves bitten. The stalkers in the ash sink their teeth into the foot or calf of their prey, leveraging the force of their bite to take down their target. And once there’s blood, more of these creatures will be attracted to the smell.

If a Wickie is clever or strong enough to draw the stalkers out of the ash, they will find that the attackers are shark-like people. Most of their head consists of oversized jaws housing an impossible amount of teeth, and lacking any eyes. Their bodies are covered in ashen chitin and bone, with elongated feet and thin, taloned fingers. These Ash Sharks do not like being exposed, and will respond accordingly.

Ash Sharks cannot be reasoned with. Trapping one in ropes, magic, or other means will elicit angry shrieks which will attract other Ash Sharks, either to eat the trapper, or trapped, or both if they can. Being dragged completely under the ash will start a feeding frenzy, and the Ash Shark will proceed to rip and tear chunks out of its prey.

In dying, Wickies will reset to a random location within the ash filled fields, completely intact but for a purpling bruise where the initial bite took place.

Good luck.


Network Time: The Heart Game


There’s a beeping alert on all Wickie’s smartphones that refuses to stop until a particular notification is read. The notification is for something called the Heart Game (which, yes, looks annoying, overly bright, and cheesy). And surprise! The game opens up automatically with a loud ping!

The game begins (and ends!) with a question, one which will not go away even if you try to close out of it or shut off your smartphone. It reads:

It’s time for everyone's favorite game! Confession! Heeeeere is today’s question which you must confess!

What is… the scariest thing you’ve experienced? It can be anything!


code bases by tricklet
trashmouthed: (ꐕ ʟօ ǟռɖ ɮɛɦօʟɖ)

Richie Tozier / IT / OTA, will match format

[personal profile] trashmouthed 2020-08-29 05:51 pm (UTC)(link)
ONE █ ARRIVAL

[It's a gradual shift, atmospheric and Richie could swear he felt pressure but now he's not so sure that it's not a figment of his imagination. He's got a pinewood baseball bat in his white-knuckled grasp and he's clutching it like it's the rites of salvation. Hard, to his chest, eyes wide and frantic magnified twice their size through his thick-rimmed glasses.]

What the dick is this???!

[He came through the nasty ass door, but he'd been expecting to find Neibolt or Derry, not whatever this place was and he can't be sure that it's not some ruse put on by IT. Was he lying on the floor in the sewers or floating? Did IT get him? Did IT get him?!]

Bill!! Stan? Eds? This isn't funny, you assholes! Where are you guys?! Where am I?

[Don't mind the angry muddy teen screaming to himself in the center of town. He's frantic, kicking rocks, trying to figure out why he's where he is and where the fuck that was. Proceed with caution, he will most definitely swing that bat.]


TWO █ NETWORK

un: trashmouth

Ha ha
so funny

Not about to answer this haunted Speak & Spell and give it the ammunition

maybe next time Maevis Beacon


THREE █ WILDCARD

[Hit me with one of the above prompts I didn't use or anything that tickles your fancy! I really liked the clinic plot but didn't factor it in. :x Reach out at [plurk.com profile] doggos for any questions or concerns! Trigger warnings for Stephen King's IT and the film adaptation obviously apply (i.e. scary eldritch clown spider monsters, child death/abuse, homophobia, etc - the list is as long as his wang)]
Edited 2020-08-29 18:56 (UTC)
cranelike: (pic#13602588)

[personal profile] cranelike 2020-08-29 06:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Quick question! Can/will TDM threads be considered canon after being accepted? Or is it up to player discretion?
luckyred: (04)

[personal profile] luckyred 2020-08-29 06:33 pm (UTC)(link)
In the clinic, are there offices for the medical staff or is it just examination rooms? If there are offices, will there be names or personal effects?

Additionally, will this follow in the great tradition of doors being locked or jammed at times (and either being something that can be unlocked or accessed via different means or remaining permanently inaccessible), or will it all be unlocked like the front door?

Secondly, if a character is the clinic, but doesn't have any injuries at the moment, will the effects be the same where if they just take supplies they might need down the line being the cure?

falco grice (attack on titan)

[personal profile] grice 2020-08-29 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)
ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴀʟ
[ the sound of a high pitched woman's voice shrieks loudly from an open window of your average home, raging words such as "rascal! you peepin' tom! out! out out out!" and stumbling, so much stumbling and thunking until one young boy, no older that thirteen (hell, he might be slightly younger than that) jounces through the open window and into a neatly trimmed bush garden. getting out of there would reveal that the kid's clothes are completely drenched— having woken up inside a full bathtub and a woman that was old enough to be his mom just getting ready to step in when— that. happened. eyes wide with fright and flushed bright red up to the tip of his ears, falco calls out, bowing his head to avoid eye contact but highly determined about communication: ]

I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I— [ looking down at his shoes and soaked, squishy socks with each step back he made, his voice trails into quiet, wandering confusion that lasts and grows just as much as the puddle expanding beneath him. ] I don't know how . . .

[ not only that— it's cold. ]

ᴀsʜᴇs, ᴀsʜᴇs
option a: [ from the silence of the murky landscape you're trekking through— you hear a short but reverberating scream. speeding up a few paces will lead characters to a young child halfway covered in ash up to his hips, as if disappearing beneath quicksand. except this is much faster than quicksand, the only thing standing between getting sucked in is the slipping, weakening grip falco has trying to swipe at a sleek surface of nothing on the ground, beyond a desolate land with nothing to actually hold. and further gets dragged, across the surfaces he could reach and yelling something much akin to: help.

option b: [ maybe he's died a time or two, maybe it was all a nightmare in his head that he'd have to step over, but breathing heavily and observing the most of his last encounter has the child's eyes fixated and large on the ripples in the ash, a hand pressing firmly into is arm until steam begins to rise from the marks of teeth in his flesh. it's healing. the blood in the ashen pools, on the other hand, are what the ash sharks hover to and attract more, more, more ]

It's . . . It's blood, but— [ he's a smart kid, trained for it, but certainly he realizes: i can't do this alone. someone's shadow in a short distance catches falco's attention, and he may call out and wave over his head for their attention: ] E-excuse me? Be careful!!

ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɢᴀᴍᴇ
%;'
,.?!//.
.......,,,


[ then after a few more moments: ]

... --- ... / ..-. .- .-.. -.-. --- / --. .-. .. -.-. . / ... .--. . .- -.- .. -. --. / .. ... / .- -. -.-- --- -. . / - .... . .-. .

[ the morse code reads: "SOS falco grice speaking is anyone there" ]
luckyred: (07)

claire redfield | re:2 remake | ota

[personal profile] luckyred 2020-08-29 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
i. sterile blues
[No one answered the first time Claire called out. And so, despite its well-kempt appearances, she assumed it abandoned like everything else around here. She wasted no time in moving around to the receptionist's desk, flipping through the papers on the desk. They came here for a reason, and Claire fully intends to get to that in a moment, but if there's any information to be had, she wants to find it. Unfortunately, the desk's drawers were locked, so Claire was crouched underneath the desk looking for a key when the quite sound of breathing and a voice came filtering through.]

[Claire straightens and gets back up to her feet, looking to her companion.]


You just heard that, right? [She barely waits for an answer before starting to move over toward the entryway leading from the waiting area to the various examination rooms. She glances at the ceiling at the lights as she makes her way over, rubbing at her eye with one hand when it doesn't seem to be the lights have changed. She calls down the hallway,] Hello!?
ii. the heart game
[Claire mutters a small word of frustration at her phone as it keeps going off again and again. She isn't not really interested in answering the questions, harmless as it may or may not be. There are more important things to be concerned with. But at least she seems to not be the only person this is happening to as another's device goes off.]

Same thing? [She asks, holding up her phone and displaying the screen with the same cheesy graphics and blinking question. Claire sighs, turning it back over toward herself and tries turning the phone off. She gets the screen to go black and is just about to put it back into her pocket when it pings again. Claire looks up at the ceiling. Her frustration is likely palpable at this point.] Gotta be honest, I'm about to just leave this thing somewhere.

[Not really though. Leaving behind a form of communication would be stupid in this kind of place.]

[Eventually, she has to concede.]


Nothing quite as scary as what u r about to get if u don't stop
iii. wildcard
((feel free to hmu with the other two prompts if you wanna! i'm also okay with any riffing off the prompts that are already here, too. you can run things by me if you need to by pming this journal or hitting me up on plurk ([plurk.com profile] rebreather))!
luckyred: (07)

one

[personal profile] luckyred 2020-08-29 08:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[Armed to the teeth isn't exactly the best way to describe Claire since she could probably do with more ammo than she has on her person, but it'd be easy to mistake her as such since she clearly has options for doing damage. But she doesn't approach this kid with any of her guns drawn. For starters, he's a kid. For another, he seems jumpy as hell right now, and she can't imagine that will help the situation any. So, she tries to take it slow, to try and get him to calm down as much as is probably safe to be calm in a place like this.]

[Maybe she approaches too quickly. Maybe the sound of gravel crunching underneath her boots is enough to draw his attention. Whatever it is, despite the careful approach, she appears to have jumped the kid.]


Whoa! Hey! [Claire holds her hands up and takes a pre-emptive step back in case that bat goes swinging.] Take it easy, kid. I'm not gonna hurt you.
luckyred: (09)

ashes a

[personal profile] luckyred 2020-08-29 08:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[At the sound of the scream, Claire came running. She's had a growing sense of dread, that she's not alone out here in ways that can't be accounted for or by just the other people that found them in this bizarre island either. But that scream confirms it. None of them are alone out here.]

[She can't dwell on that right now though and try to think about what the threat might be. That terror in the scream spells out that she doesn't have much time if she's going to be of any use to the person screaming. Claire hustles, coming to an abrupt stop when she sees the kid halfway disappeared into the ash already.]


Oh God... [She holsters her weapon and moves forward to crouch down and grab one of his hands. She starts pulling immediately, her boots underneath her managing to grip the ground beneath her for the moment.] Grab onto me! C'mon!

network! un:falcogrice

[personal profile] grice 2020-08-29 09:42 pm (UTC)(link)
This isn't Maevis Beacon. [ . . . ] Why "trashmouth"? Did someone choose that for you?
muffled: (rusty cage)

the mandalorian | star wars

[personal profile] muffled 2020-08-29 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
arrival

[ one moment he's walking through a desert, on the way to his ship, the next he's stumbling through a doorway. a word throbs in his head, a voice threatens perfection, and behind his helmet his eyes shut and snap open as he breathes heavily, anxious, afraid?

he spins in his spot, staring down the entry way he just came out of, and then turns back in place to assess the situation.
]

The hell...

[ but any question or thought of what's going on is sharply interrupted with the sound of a shrill cry. he looks down and realizes he's been cradling the child in one of his arms, even when he distinctly remembers leaving it on his ship. carefully he unfurls the top of the dark brown blanket, checking to make sure it isn't hurt. he sighs soft, relieved, and quietly shushes it. ]

C'mon, quiet down. Nothing's wrong.

[ a lot is wrong, but it's crying might draw unwanted attention. the child, for all his rambunctious behavior, doesn't scare easy. it worries him. ]

the blues

[ medical supplies aren't normally what he looks for, but that's because he normally has a ship with a stockpile of whatever he needs. without that at hand, he decides a good old fashion scavenging is in order.

but as he walks through, the wash of blue suddenly covering the halls, the crush of his body turning heavy becomes clearer. for a man who wears heavy armor every day, it's a noticeable shift in the weight he can normally carry. he feels weaker and weaker with each step, but does manage to get into a room and find a bed.

the good news is he feels slowly better as he lies down, breathing steadily. he's even ready to take off his helmet to get some more air, no one around in sight, but then the sound of footsteps nearby alerts him he's not alone.

this is all to say if you see an open room and think to go inside, get ready to see a man in full armor pointing a hand gun at the doorway.
]

Don't move.

heart game

I don't get scared.

Who is this?


[ he doesn't expect much of a response, but can't hurt to bait. ]
plasticasshole: (✦ bullets set on shooting down the lies)

Connor / Detroit: Become Human / OTA!

[personal profile] plasticasshole 2020-08-29 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Sterile Blues;

[Connor has never taken care of his own injuries. CyberLife would patch him up instead, but only after he was finished with what he was doing. Therefore, slogging his way through this place is getting harder and harder for the android, and eventually he can't help but grit his teeth and collapse on a bed, LED flashing red.

What is happening to him? It makes no sense. There's nothing wrong with him internally, he knows that much. As he lies there he starts to feel better, the weight from his arms and legs lifting slowly. He still can't really walk, though. He wouldn't mind a chat with a fellow Wickie in the meantime.]

Heart Game;

[Well, it's pretty obvious that the only way to get this to go away is to answer...]

Another android died while I was still connected to him.

[Is that enough? He doesn't really want to go into too much detail, he just wants this prompt to leave.]

Wildcard;

[Hit me up at [plurk.com profile] novicecity if you want to hash something out!]
muffled: (25 minutes to go)

heart game

[personal profile] muffled 2020-08-29 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
... --- ... / .-. . -.-. . .. ...- . -.. /
/ .-- .... .- - .----. ... / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... - .- - ..- ... / --. .-. .. -.-. .


[ SOS received
What's your status Grice
]
quietblueflame: Commissioned; DNT (Cleaver)

Rena Ryugu | Higurashi no Naku Koro ni

[personal profile] quietblueflame 2020-08-29 11:32 pm (UTC)(link)

Ashes, Ashes

[ Rena tries her best to breathe under her breath. She’s in pretty rough shape, bleeding in a few places from where she’s been attacked, and while she’s not dying, she isn’t looking great. It’s not like her to get caught so easily by an enemy, but then again, it’s not often one gets attacked by shark people in ashy fog.

She does her best to keep herself steady while holding her cleaver. The girl at least found something tall to climb on, so she can’t be snuck up on now. It also gives her a moment to rest. When she hears something approach, though, she tenses up again.

There’s only so much more she can take of this. Raising her cleaver, Ren readies for another attack, but then she realizes it’s not another shark person.

She puts the weapon aside and holds out her hands instead. She calls out as quietly as possible. ]


Over here; hurry!

[ Better hurry before it’s too late. ]

Heart Game

(( CW: Higurashi spoilers! ))

The scariest? (´−`) ンー
Oh probably when the Tokyo Group was threatening Rika! 。゜(`Д´)゜。
I was scared of losing her! And our hometown for that matter… (´;︵;`)
But we beat them good!! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑


[ Yeah she’s loving the emoji’s. ]

Wildcard

(( Go for it! ))

[personal profile] grice 2020-08-29 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ there’s something in the boy’s eyes that swells upon seeing another soul— one that is alive and solid, not one he knew or recognized (her clothes were stranger than he was used to, maybe a region he wasn’t entirely familiar with-?), but one that offers help. why wouldn’t he take it? being so used to the opposite or even being kicked or worse, falco’s small hands desperately reach to clap the woman’s hand and grip the sleeve of her clothes with his other. ]

There’s something under here—! [ before long, the boy’s face creases with pain, enough that his eyes shine with the glazey film of tears but sucking up the urge to let them fall regardless. he could do something, he thought, but his memory blank about the last time he tried, and what his group had told him happened— what if he hurts someone again? someone who’s trying to help him? ] It could pull you too!

[ so, making up his mind quickly— he’s ready to let go if she couldn’t. ]
weirdnecro: (The captain howled)

Sokie Undertown | OC |CRAU from Aefenglom

[personal profile] weirdnecro 2020-08-29 11:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Arrival: A

[Here she thought she was sleeping in a too big bed, after reading a text about magic (as you do). But the dream...it reminded her of New York and the voice...

She hadn't had a dream like that in a long time. Her eyes snapped open, and she felt...wet on her back? Her bed felt harder and deeper then usual. Blindly, she groped around for a way to get up and...

There was an unholy shriek as she accidentally turned on the cold water.]


Why is it so cold?!

Arrival: B

[Later, after she had dried off and gotten her feet under her, she could be found in the kitchen, having found (or bought) a coffee maker for use, taking out a great big mug.

Finding someone new coming through the door, or someone she'd spoken to before, she did the same thing: she saluted them with her mug, and took a sip before saying:]


So. Having a good day?

[She's fully expecting to get glowered and sworn at.]

Ashes, Ashes CW: violence

Get- off-my-boot! Git!

[She feels, rather then hears the crunch under the force of her foot slamming into...something. It felt roundish? But thankfully, it let go, and backed off.

Though it meant that she overbalanced, and fell into the ash up to her hips, her hands on the ash. She huffed, and shook herself, even as she moved to prop herself up and back onto her feet.]


I've never been so glad to find leather boots in a grocery store, even if it's cheap leather.

[What she doesn't see is the movement behind her. Likely another, or the same, Ash Shark from last time. Persistent little things.]

Wildcard

(Feel free to hmu on any of the prompts, or something new! You can pm me on [plurk.com profile] nammah if you have any questions. Short of who/what Sokie is: she's a very old magic user who's just come from a place that had people turning into monsters/witches. She's very disappointed this isn't home.)

[personal profile] grice 2020-08-29 11:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ !!!!!!! ]

..- -. .. -. .--- ..- .-. . -.. / ..- -. .- .-. -- . -.. / .-.. --- ... - / .-. . -.-. --- -. -. .. -. --. / ..-. .-. ..- .. - ... / -... .- ... -.- . -

[ uninjured. unarmed. lost. reconning fruits basket.

(and with that, comes the name of the street that’s on, whatever that is) ]

[personal profile] grice 2020-08-30 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
just to dip into (and make public), what would exploring fruit’s basket garner out of the ordinary products? any weaponry or something something blood aisle?
313_248_317_60: (Headtilt)

hi there Sterile Blue

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-08-30 12:03 am (UTC)(link)
[The creak of the clinic's front door is followed by footsteps: slow and circling, inspecting the reception space. From the patient room where he's lying, Connor will hear one desk drawer opened after another—searching for paperwork, in the absence of electronic records on this place. The new arrival pauses, listening. Then:]

Tampering with Cyberlife property is a criminal offense.

[The voice—Connor's voice—is deceptively mild. The soft whisper of metal on cloth might reveal a little more of the other RK800's intentions. Slipping his gun out of his jacket, Connor #313 248 317-60 starts down the hallway, searching for whoever or whatever is affecting his vision.]
plasticasshole: (✯ i'm in the system)

:')

[personal profile] plasticasshole 2020-08-30 12:12 am (UTC)(link)
[Connor starts and sits up faster than his body should rightfully allow him to, narrowing his eyes. He knows that voice- or rather, he knows that iteration of that voice. It's colder than his own.

Sliding off the bed, Connor takes his own gun out of his jacket and scoots behind a cabinet, listening intently. The weight on his limbs remains, and he wonders if he'd be at a disadvantage here if this turns into a shootout. Maybe he should try to avoid that outcome, if possible.]
313_248_317_60: (Focus)

[personal profile] 313_248_317_60 2020-08-30 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
[No response. Hardly surprising, but it does make Connor's job a little harder. He quiets his steps as he approaches the first patient room, listening carefully before he opens the door with a quick twist.

Nothing.

A single step inside is enough to scan the space—and determine the lack of hiding places in this room. He abandons it, pacing on to the next room. Again, Connor opens the door, checks the room, and finds it empty.

There are two doors left before he reaches his predecessor.]
plasticasshole: (✻ tough to be tender)

[personal profile] plasticasshole 2020-08-30 12:33 am (UTC)(link)
[He has two choices here, he figures. He can charge at 60, using his unknown position to surprise him and potentially gain the advantage- only, his limbs aren't cooperating the way he'd like them to, and in the split second it takes for Connor to raise his own heavy arms, 60 could probably just shoot him. Or he can continue to hide... which isn't likely to work for long on 60. They both have a tendency to explore every nook and cranny, after all.

Maybe there's a third option? He could try talking to him. It's not likely to get him far, but he does need to see if 60 is being affected the same way Connor is. He can formulate a better plan once he has more information.

He shifts very quietly to hide behind the door, instead. When 60 opens it, Connor will be already pointing his pistol at him.]

I wouldn't try anything, if I were you.
trashmouthed: (ꐕ เ ωαร เɳ ƭɦεɱ)

text; lol i'm so sorry

[personal profile] trashmouthed 2020-08-30 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
If you were i'd have a whole lot more questions for you, hoss.

sort of but not here i typed it in with my own two hands.

is your name actually falcogrice? and why did your parents hate you?

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