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Edited by TooFastForPat:
9/16/2015 1:06:15 PM
14
Zhackie, Trynt, Steedhall Wood:
This place really was as eerie as they said, leaves crushed under his feet and Roms paws as they ascended through the fog. He could see where he was going easily enough, but the fog would only let way a few ten meters as a time, perfect setting for a zombie apocalypse film. He continued to hike with no set goal or intention in mind, he and Rom just needed some time away from the sewers, or from Cidyetica in general? Anywho, this was making him feel better, and to an extent, that was his goal.
After a few more minutes of walking he decided to take a brief respite and sat down by a tree. He unloaded his travel pack and pulled out a picnic basket, Rom immediately came over and began to sniff. "Calm down Rom, there's enough for both of us". He handed Rom a large piece of jerky which he gleefully began to chew. Zhackie pulled out some sweetened bread for himself and began to eat. He looked around the foggy surroundings as he did.
((Open))
English
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-daego walks in on the picnic- " oh hi didn't expect to find anyone on my little stroll"
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You stumble upon two people and a very large foo-dog. Zhackie turns to you with a look of irritation in his eye. "Neither did I"
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-looking at ryan and shaking his head- " ughh i hate tempests gathering and effing up the time stream"-licking the air- " ...blueberries..."
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[b]Ryan Has his gun up to your face[/b] "Try that again"
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"I said i hate you tempests because you disrespect time" -plasma sword is hovering over his heart-
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[b]Ryan accidentally goes side ways in time (-30 mins) again[/b] "GAHH!"
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Rom instantly starts barking at what he perceives to be a threat and charges. Zhackie draws his corvo sword from his jacket and stands ready.
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[b]Ryan slows the dog and puts his hands into the air[/b] "I'm sorry I have a hard time with this!!!"
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[i]A tempest.[/i] Zhackie scoffs. "Oughta be more careful"
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"I can't [b]f[/b][b]ucking[/b][b]Control it![/b]
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He glances at you with a stare brimming with apathy towards your situation. He shrugs. "I'll take your word for it" He fold his sword and places it back inside his jacket.
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[b]The dogs tackles him[/b] [b]"F[/b][b]uck![/b][b]"[/b] "GET IT OFF!"
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"Rom, gehen wir!" The food dog retreats. Zhackie slings his bag back to his back and starts walking away.
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[b]He slowly gets up, the meter in his back less than 50%[/b]
