#deletesave

“...rob a bank.” 

Cortex repeated those words with mild surprise, mixed with clear tiredness, slowly looking up from his blueprints to the other doctor.

She honestly didn’t expect this to happen. One moment she was heading home from a short walk and the next thing she knew, she was in what seemed to be a wasteland filled with.....Land Sharks? Wherever it was didn’t matter to her.....She still got to see N.Gin get his ass beaten by Crash and in person this time!

Once the other was beaten, the mutants plan was to run up to where Crash and Coco were and tag along with them......However just before she could call out their names, another quantum rift opened up on the floor in-front of her, causing the cat to fall into it.

Thankfully she didn’t have to fall for long and soon landed onto a hard, metal floor. Letting out a slight hiss of pain, the mutant pushes herself up onto her knees, rubbing the back of her head.

@deletesave​ said:  [ fix ] reverse [ DELETESAVE || RED MEDIC || FOR DEMO ]

nonverbal -- && accepting. 

     The crack of a sniper rifle being fired across the battlefield. A shout of pain && a body meeting gravel. Demoman didn’t even need to move his head to know exactly who had been shot.

          ❝ Doc ! ❞ He ran over to his teammate, quickly kneeling as his eye scanned over his form ( where had that bloody bastard hit him ?! ). The BLU Sniper was yet to fire another shot since the one that had maimed the Medic, so Demo assumed that their own Spy had already dealt with the matter. Good.

relationship wishlist meme

I’ve only been awake for like an hour so I apologize for not doing something dramatic or extravagant I’m tired hakjhgfsdg but yes, they just. Need to stop fucking dancing around and talking. Hnnnn

@deletesave​ plotted!

     Sulkan rested his back against the rocks, eyes closed though still alert. The rushing waterfall drowned out the sounds of the birds the nix-hounds, loud enough to hide whatever sounds he made as well. Unbuckling his greatsword, he leaned it gently against the wall before rummaging in his pack for a blue scarf and golden pin. Three times around the neck, pin on his left. One couldn’t overstate the importance of a scarf in Vvardenfel.       He reached into his pack again, pulling out a small piece of parchment that had been folded into quarters. The parchment was dirty, stained with oily fingerprints and bits of rust, the script messy and rushed: a workshop order. With any luck, whomever “Abnur Tharn” was would have been spoken to before hand: Sotha Sil usually guided those who worked under him directly. Anything was possible, however.       The Dunmer’s ears twitched at the sound of footsteps, tucking the note away and picking up his blade before looking towards the cavern. Where he had expected another of his own kin, or at least someone in ‘adventuring health’, there was an elderly Imperial. Lips thinned, though it wasn’t much of a change in expression, as he stood straight and rested his blade by his side,

     ❝ I assume you’re Abnur Tharn. ❞

     His voice carried a tone of authority, a sort of confidence seemed to take the place of any true emotion that could have been in his tone.

weapon-based sentence prompts

“Excuse me, I know how to hold a sword, thank you very much.”

And he does. He knows swords. He knows how to hold them and he knows how to use them. And he’d go so far as to say he’s actually pretty good at doing so! Not amazing, there are definitely other weapons he’s better with, but good.

But that doesn’t change the fact that this sword is just a bit too big for him. It’s heavy and awkward in his servos, and he definitely isn’t holding it right. If he had to fight with it he wouldn’t do very well at all.

Tightening his grip on the hilt, he raises the sword, very much aware that he’s holding it like a human would a baseball bat. He grins up at the seeker, thoroughly amused with his own error.

“Fight me.”