if your character was an npc, what items would they drop when they flee combat/are killed?

( repost, don’t reblog ! )

3-5 COMMON ITEMS ( WOULD DROP EVERY TIME )

1. M1911

Heavily modified and fitted with a suppressor, this gun is capable of decreasing the sound of its gunshots by up to 50% and masquerading any flash completely. It’s incredibly well-maintained, clean, and despite the age of the model, it seems like it’s new based on its condition.

2. Flask

Half-empty, the container is a very smooth silvery color with some ornate patterns along its edges. There’s a decal on it that reads ‘For the Road’. By the scent of it, it contains hard liquor. Most likely a high-quality brand of vodka.

3. Packet of Disco Biscuits

What was once a small container for bubble gum now houses something far more sinister and far less legal. Though the stickers still masquerade it as a holder for chewables, the rattling sound within betrays the clever disguise for several dozen LSD pills.

4. Cigarette Package + Lighter

A box of Marlboros tucked away in one of the man’s coat pockets. The box is half full and contains a mix of cigarettes and joints, already rolled and ready to smoke. With it is a lighter. It’s black metal shine is interrupted only by the occasional scratch on its surface and is engraved with the initials E. C.

5. Notepad

Beautiful cursive handwriting details the names, ages, addresses, and hobbies of several people in a list format. The eerily specific details are occasionally interrupted by what look to be chore and grocery lists, occasional doodles, and half-finished poetry that varies in nature. Obviously a combination hitlist featuring human targets and tomatoes.

1-3 RARE ITEM(S) ( A 10% DROP CHANCE )

1. Rosary Beads + Cross

The beads of this rosary are a brilliant red. Flexible string weaves together the collection with its centerpiece being a silver cross engraved with the holy son. The piece has no particularly distinguishable features about it, other than that it seems to carry an emotional weight far surpassing that of its physical capacity.

2. A Fancy Old Watch

Judging by the make and model, this watch is decades old and yet seems like new with how well it’s been cared for. Bright, shiny, and accurate in its reading of the time, it would fetch a pretty penny in any pawn shop it is taken to.

3. Journal

Bookmarked with standard military-grade dog tags, the contents of this leather book vary from mundane recountings of day to day life, to heart wrenching stories of struggle, letters sent back and forth to confessional notes, bits of poetry and unfinished songs, and even recorded recollections of events. Documents and pressed flowers are placed between some sections. Though no specific genre can be used to label it, the darker, more personal pages of this read would make it difficult for anyone to stomach.

LEGENDARY ITEM ( A 1% DROP CHANCE )

1. A Clay Doll

Handmade, the shape of this small doll resembling a bipedal bull seems similar to a puzzle piece. Arms outstretched as it to hug someone, its other half seems to be missing. On the back of it is carved the following words: “Dear Little Brother”. The trinket’s paint has chipped and it’s edges have become weathered over the years, but still it remains unbroken and well cared for. One can only wonder where the other piece is...

TAGGED: @dxllmaking

          “  It’s... uh -- S--Strawberry. Strawberry Joy is the one I take. I uh, can’t have the others. They, uh, make me rattle like maracas. I thought I was surely dead the last time I had one of those... “

         Hopefully it can buy him enough time to dash away. It’s a doctor, right? Shouldn’t take long for them to find another downer. At least, if he bought the fib. Arthur has taken nothing but Strawberry recently, but can easily take all three without a problem.

She couldnt tell you how she got to the page that first mentioned the dollmaker but with more digging, she came across his webpage. She was instantly drawn to the depravity of it and next thing she knew she had spent hours scouring over everything she could find. She wanted to meet him and even more so, wanted to learn from him.

It started off small, just some murders of girls that Zoe painted up like dolls. She posted the photos to the pages she thought might get his attention, each time leaving a note on how it was her gift to him. Then she progressed into her own version of dolls. Granted each of her victims were still murdered, she had fun experimenting with different ways to make the corpses pose like dolls and the different chemicals to help with their appearance.

All she wanted was for the dollmaker to appreciate her gifts to him and allow her to meet him. In a fucked up way, she wanted him as her mentor but she couldnt give an exact reason why other than just that she liked what he did.

Pillars of dirtied steam rose from the building, searing the sky as they dissipated slowly. Heat still poured from the smashed windows of the structure, but thankfully, everyone had been evacuated before the flames consumed the concrete, blackening it with smoldering eat. A large group of civilians was still being checked by the police and firefighters at the scene, an even larger crowd held back by barricades and looking for the scene. No cause had yet been released, no casualties reported, no emergencies called in. All was well.

The jet lag leftover from his flight caused Lucas’ limbs to feel heavy, each movement sluggish and uncoordinated. He was glad he had called Mike to pick him up at the airport, he wasn’t sure driving home would have gone smoothly or safely given how hard he’d sunken into the passenger seat and struggled to keep himself conscious before ultimately failing and sleeping a good majority of the ride home. Thankfully, this particular job had gone off without a hitch. Without much of struggle on the target’s part, it had been simple and clean, so he really couldn’t complain about it, save for the gnawing sensation that seemed to hound at the back of his mind like a restless animal in a cage. Normally, traveling would have been a relief for him. Part of it meant that he would get to journey across the world and see some interesting sights, but he found it was significantly less fun of an experience without Ernst’s commentary and witty banter to narrate it all. Indeed, not having him around felt odd. Wrong, even. And shameful as he felt it was to admit, it had caused him to miss out quite a bit in favor of holding onto one of his hotel room pillows and curling around it, trying to imagine it was the strong man he’d grown so accustomed to being around that he was clinging to.

By the time the sun had come up, Mike was pulling up to the familiar house that Lucas had come to look at with more fondness than he’d ever intended to. It seemed desolate and eerie from the outside, with its hulking size and structure, design vaguely macabre and reminiscent of many a cliche horror scenario. But much like its owner, Lucas had come to learn that appearances were deceiving— it was what lingered on the inside that had his attention and his adoration. And so as Michael pulled up to the curb a ways away, much too nervous to try entering the driveway, and helped Lucas take his luggage and suitcase from the back, a fluttering made itself known in the Pole’s chest. Pure excitement staved off any lingering drowsiness he felt as he thanked Michael and headed up to the front door. He could hardly fight the tingling sensation in his bones that caused his legs to shuffle excitedly as he knocked on the door a few times.

Perhaps he’d already been up by this hour, or perhaps he’d never gone to bed— with Ernst it was always difficult to tell. But for whatever reason, the assassin lost what little self-control he’d managed to cling to with a shaking grasp up until this point. The mere sight of Ernst after all this time apart elated the hitman beyond anything words could describe. He dropped his bags and immediately hopped up, arms throwing themselves over the Dollmaker’s shoulders as he pressed his lips to his partner’s. That same spark that he’d felt the first time they’d kissed (and that he could remember) reappeared and the half-Cuban immediately felt himself melt. Had it not been for the fact the elder had taken a clutching grasp around his waist the smaller man was certain he would have collapsed to the ground from how quickly all his muscles slackened. He relaxed completely, mind hazing up and efforts sweet, yet not quite as focused as they were emotionally driven. When he pulled away, winded by his own actions, he gently rested his forehead against the surgeon’s, mumbling softly as he basked in the other’s presence. Finally, he felt like he was right where he needed to be again.

Nothing short of overwhelmingly inebriated, both from alcohol and from confidence brought on by the copious amounts of ethanol in his system, Lucas saw the comment as a challenge. A part of his brain less swamped by the broth of liquid carelessness giggled at the idea, prepared to release the sound and play the phrase off as just Ernst being Ernst with his typical teasing mannerisms; up until he felt his hands being clasped in the Dollmaker’s larger ones. The rationality left him as quickly and as fleetingly as it had come, and for a moment all he could focus on was the fact that he could have sworn he saw Ernst lean closer, and how warm his hands felt around his chillier fingers, and how he was looking at Lucas so expectantly— like he knew he would back down. As if he really would.

Lucas returned the look with a sly expression of his own, teeth digging into his lower lip in an attempt to hide the michevious grin quickly turning the corners of his lips upwards into rosy cheeks and exposing his illusive dimples. For a moment, he squeezed Ernst’s fingers lightly and drew back, still snickering even as it looked as though he was settling for being called a chicken. Gathering the last of his nerve in a slippery grasp, one of his hands left Ernst’s hold, reaching up and grasping the collar of the elder’s shirt as firmly as his drunk self could manage, and pulled him down to close the distance between them. It was hardly the suave, romantic kiss he was picturing it to be in his head, but he was certainly pouring all of the secretive passion he normally withheld into it.