#ruutledge

@ruutledge

Humming to yourself, you slide around in your socks in a mock form of dance while you make a sandwich, putting all kinds of things on it-- pickles, tomatoes, celery, cheese, bologna, some bits of turkey bacon someone left in the fridge...

Oh, but where’s the mayonnaise?

Pursing your lips, you dig around in the fridge with a puzzled expression. Nope, not there. Kneeling down, you dig in the lower half of the pantry-- oh no, is the base out of it? It’s hardly an issue, but it certainly is a tragedy! About to admit defeat, you sit back so that you can get off the ground, only to spot a jar of mayonnaise atop the fridge out of the very topmost edge of your visor’s corrective sight. But, even as you grin in victory, it isn’t meant to last, because no matter how high you try to reach, you’re just too small to reach anywhere near it.

Sighing in defeat, you brush a few long dreads behind your shoulder, frowning at the situation at hand. You can’t climb up on anything in this pair of legs-- you can in your combat ones, but you aren’t going through that just for a sandwich!

@ruutledge

She’d been to her share of dives over the years, but this one took the cake, just what ONI and the UNSC hoped to gain from tracking down someone of the target’s reputation was beyond the Spartan, though it would likely be anything but a quiet job...

She opened the doors to the Outback saloon, her visor gazing upon a room of thugs and tough customers, there wasn’t one table in here that didn’t have a gun on it. The spartan set her sites upon a man at the bar, large with a big fat belly. The room fell silent, either because a woman had actually crossed the threshold of the door to this dump, or because a Spartan super soldier had entered a criminal haven, who could say...

send me a 🐢 for a random fact abt my muse

1. Lee adores dry fruit, dry vegetables, dry dog food, dry wood, dry paper, anything dry. Jerky is probably one of the best treats this canine could receive. It’s easy for him to digest!

2.  Aside from dried anything remotely edible, one of his absolutely favorite treats is s’more worthy marshmallows. Sweet, delicious, easily found in abandoned camp sites, and flammable!

               wait, that wasn’t him. canting his head to look over towards the table.

               ❝ …ｎｏｔ even gonna ask. ❞  】

Monk stared back at him, chewing on the last little bits of the box before he spotted the ice cream. “Crem! Is crem, give!” The little chimera suddenly barked in some very broken english, his raspy voice echoing in the little kitchen as he jumped down from the table and began running around on all fours. He was a fast little bugger, despite his awkward all fours running. He finally slid to a stop in front of Roadhog and sat there, staring up at him. “Crem?” That little tail was wagging up a storm behind him too... This weird mix of animal and man.