#ruinouss

Tick, tick, tick, tick—?! Roy clasped warm flesh against the cool metal of the clock beside him, slamming it against the wooden table. Rex doesn't tense up, used to The Courier's outbursts. Roy however was getting as restless as the Mojave itself. Like wind carrying the sand across the landscape, he just wanted to be free. Things would get like this sometimes, he would get like this sometimes, more often than he used to once the illusion of the glitz and glamor of the penthouse in the Lucky 38 wore off. After all, Roy was a roaming dog for the better part of his life and being little more than a kept guard dog now, well it sometimes ate away at his bones. Roy leans up from the couch he'd been lounging around restlessly on, Rex perking up from the floor finally. ❝Eh, easy boy ain't nothin' to get excited over, shits boooooringgggggg.❞ He huffs, Rex lets out a gruff before laying his head back down. Roy supposed his lack of much to do on the strip these days had been because of the securitrons, they accounted for most of the work needing to be done, unless House said otherwise and...that was fine with Roy. Right? When everything was going to hell in a handbasket around him, he wasn't very thrilled to be dragged into the Mojave's problems or the machinations of the powers that be on the strip...but now, his trigger finger twitches at the thought of something like back then. Knock, knock, knock, knock—?! ❝For fucks sake just open the door.❞ Roy barks, Rex sits up, sentinel as ever, a small deep huff escaping his muzzle. ❝Why I beg your pardon friend, you have a visitor. Says she knows you and now I didn't want some stranger rootin' around if you didn't know them pardner.❞ Viktor wheels himself into the penthouse room, cowboy face on the screen glowing. Roy used to find him unsettling, used to find most of the Robots unsettling, now he's just grown accustomed to them.

❝Says ya'll been in a couple of shootouts together like a couple of Texas Red's, that you'd know who she was. You got any clue on that friend, or should I round up the posse and get the big boss man?❞ Roy quirks up an eyebrow, furrowing them right after before a wild grin starts to splay it's way onto his face. Roy got in a lot of shootouts with folks, to be fair but...if it was who he thought it was, well then...❝Naw, Vic, I'll handle it. Keep Rex busy for a bit though, would ya'? I'll be back.❞

Roy rolls his shoulders, hopping up from the couch, his back felt stiff and it cracks when he gets up, heading towards the doorway. Rex gives a bark as he exits the room and heads to the elevator to go downstairs. It doesn't take him long to pass through the Casino and to the front.When his eyes set their sights on the women before him, he lets out a toothy grin before shaking his head.

❝Now if I didn't know any better I'd say this was the first time I was seein' ya' without the gunfire over our sorry asses.❞

@ruinouss said: “I have missed this. The adventure. The danger. The kickin’ of butts!” (For Mythe)

- bg3 || accepting -

. "You mean you stopped for a bit?" He asked. He sheathed his blade, a hand moving to tug his hair out of the way as he hooked his shield in its place on his back. The thought seemed odd. Of course not everyone adventured every hour of the day- even he took his breaks. But it was never long. The allure of taking down beasts was never far.

"Try to keep a sense of knowing who I am," There is a soft sigh that falls from their lips as they throw their head back. Finding out about their true parentage has been wild ride, especially for their metal state. They weren't great people - and Morgan is starting to wonder if that meant that meant them too. Are they like those who made them, or those who raised them. "I try to be an angel." Of course not realistically - but in the sense of be a good person and, can they be? If their parents were such horrible beings?

As a kid, I was obsessed with The Loch Ness Monster. I remember checking out books from the library about Nessie. I would even visit websites back in the ye olden internet days to learn more about it.   

Personally, the idea of Nessie being a dinosaur ( a plesiosaur ) excited my imagination. I remember even wanting to visit Scotland, so I can go to Loch Ness and search for Nessie.

 Another Cryptid would be Bigfoot. I actually lived around some areas where Bigfoot was said to be spotted. Again, I would check out books regarding Bigfoot. I would like to think that Bigfoot does exists. That North America was home to such strange and fascinating primates.

@ruinouss​ SAID: "i mean, a murderer probably lives in the building." @ Rayn 

💜 Only Murders In the Building Prompts // ACCEPTING 💜

"If my instincts are right, then there sure is.” Any humor in the sentiment was lost on Rayn. She took her work very seriously - perhaps a bit too much so. But murder was something she could never afford to joke about. It was too serious. And too often, it led to a cascade of events that would so quickly unfold and spiral out of control - the single tip of a domino sending forth waves of unpredictable chaos. Too often, the crime went overlooked and under-contained. Especially by those most responsible for ensuring it was treated with the severity it beckoned. So much for authority.

@ruinouss​ :  ❛ is that my shirt? ❜ @ the rat faced bastard

     He could hardly remember the previous night; the two had drifted off into whatever realms the shrooms sent them to. Perhaps they ate one too many; got too high and suddenly, he wakes up laying beneath the kitchen table. He feels nauseous- nothing a little more booze couldn’t cure. He had crawled out from under there, grabbed a half drunken beer bottle off the table and sipped from the room temperature beer as he headed up the stairs in search of Faye. And as expected, he had found her tucked away nice and cozy in his California king bed; it was always a habit of his to assure that he puts her into the bed before he crashes, even if she blacks out before him. She’d never wake up on the floor- he wouldn’t allow it. 

     His good morning was greeted with a question; the sleepy eyed woman asking if he was wearing her shirt and he glances down at himself only to realize that he was, in fact, wearing her shirt. It was far too small on him; fitted like a crop top revealing his tatted beer gut and a grin stretched across his face as a laugh escaped him. “Yeah- I guess it is.” he answered. His gaze returns to her and he lifts the hand holding the beer bottle and uses a finger to point at her. “And that’s my shirt- you done jacked my shit.” he joked. “How you gonna do me like that? Stole my shirt? My bed. Ain’t even gonna invite me into it either. You’re wrong for that, girl.” he said as he stepped towards the bed, lowered himself to sit on the edge of it and took another swig from the beer. “You gonna steal my shower next and not even let me jump in there with you?”