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@@genessee @@Hazard Time

 

Closer and closer they made to their position. As they pass near the crashed runner the gaggle of zombponies turn their new found attention piling over another to attach themselves to new found meals. Looking over he called out to his new companions.

 

"WE gotta get to that runner!" He exclaimed, it was honestly the best shot they had. They sure as hell weren't going to outrun that truck on foot. Noting that Mel watched from the top as his goons became a soft appiteizer.

 

Without much further reaction he charged ahead sprinting for the runner as their adversaries became occupied.

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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@@genessee @

 

"Sad accurately describes me right now," she mumbled.  "Sad in that I am in so much bloody pain right now, and the universe doesn't 'ave the damn common courtesy to end me."

 

At the diamond dog's call, however, Bronze rolled her head to the side and peeked over.  She immediately regretted it as the bright light blinded her.  "For the moment, I trust you enough to drag me where we need to be, Lance.  Please don't make me regret that."

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Roleplaying for Eight Years and Counting!

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@@Hazard Time @

 

"Drag you? Oh, right. Gotcha." Lance took Bronze's leg and began trekking towards the runner his unnamed friend had moved to. Within two steps Lance remembered he was in no condition to walk. I can't just give up. Lance forced his legs to move forward, and into the line of fire. Most incoming shots missed, but occasionally one would nick Lance's cheek or ear. Man, these guys can't shoot a target who's moving at the slowest possible pace and not even trying to dodge. That's sad. But lucky for us, I guess. A few minutes and lots of pain later, Lance had gotten into the runner with Bronze without any lost limbs. Lance tried his hardest to keep a straight face as his legs silently screamed in pain. He breathed heavily, and finally said, "Well, we're not dead. Are you still able to move?" I'm not.

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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@Randimaxis@@Ranger22,

 

 

Dusk Rose couldn't help but grin for a bit.  She was just about getting ready to aim for the same places again expecting that she had missed, but it looks like the past few weeks had paid off.  Not to mention that it looked as though Whitetip had done away with the cyborgs.  Aiming for the remaining spider drones, she once again eyed the heads and the legs.

 

Then she realized too late that in fact, not ALL of the cyborgs were dead, and she momentarily froze.  To her embarrassment, she was quickly reminded of the protective mist and her own shields, which actually really held up fine for the most part.  She slowly rose, trying to push aside what would've happened if she wasn't a) given a powerful shield, b ) given armor, and c) covered in black mist.  Focus and caution took back their place in the span of about a few seconds.

 

She took the machine pistol and tried to line up a headshot on one of the cyborgs, then she became witness to their guide's power.  With it came the feeling of dread that came to her when they first spotted that cyborg at the beginning.  Only multiplying it by a hundred.  Watching the flesh rapidly decompose after his move, she suddenly felt a bit vulnerable, not helped with the realization that her invisibility was going to run out in a few seconds.

 

"Please... kill me..."  The cyborg's plea rung more clearly in her head than the horrid shriek from seconds before.  The tone sounded... so familiar.

 

The moment she saw bullets fly, she dropped to the floor, trying to submerge herself as best she could.  She didn't hear her pistols hit the ground as she brought them down with her, though her yellow magic still enveloped them.  Rose quickly got up to fire at the cyborg, but then she stopped in time so as to not shoot Whitetip as he came to her protection.  Her question of "What are you doing?" got drowned out by the bullet hell around them.  As he stepped to the side, she gave him a concerned sideways glance as she waited, crouched in the dark mists, to see if the cyborg's last request was granted.  The sense of obligation to help comply was strong, but her need to conserve her ammo was stronger.

Edited by Light of Night
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@@genessee,@@Hazard Time,  

 

With his foot supporting him to peek over the cover of their confiscated runner he took pot shots about at the conglomerate of thugs, undead and screeching midget pones that dart about their chaotic cluster fuck. With one reaching up at his ankle only to met with a swift boot to the head. Another approaching to his limping companion after tossing Bronze into the driver seat.

 

Jumping down with finesse he brought about his baton in a strike to the incoming thug. 

 

Upon the hill Mel was growing impatient- and he was gonna have someone's head tonight- or it'll be Robbies third cousin. He really hated that guy. 

 

Jumping into his driver seat he revved his engine hard igniting a show of flame and spark from his exhaust tubes. 

 

Grabbing Lance by his waist he heaved him into the driver side- the seat just big enough for two ponies surprisingly- though still a tight fit. 

"Fucking drive!" He hollered at him climbing upon the the top and plopping into the gunner seat- clearing the cheap machine rifle in place and letting out torrents of lead into the ongoing crowd around them.

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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@ @@Hazard Time

 

Without a second thought, Lance forced his hoof down on what he thought was the gas pedal. I have no idea how to drive this thing. Lance didn't know where he was supposed to drive, and he noted that he had Bronze in the back seat looking depressed, so he tried to make the ride the least bumpy as possible, which was unbelievably difficult considering Lance didn't know how to drive the runner. Lance drove away from the horde of thugs and bandits, and the sound of gunshots rang in his ears. He had a single thought in mind at this point: GTFO. 

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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@genessee @

 

Bronze was sold.  Today was officially the worst day of her life.

 

Each gunshot was like a hammer to her hungover head, and she winced in pain with each motion and sound that came her way.  Her hoof flailed around for something to hold on to (which turned out to be the diamond dog), and she held on for dear life with every ounce of strength she could muster.  Just how much did she owe Lance and this...she would need to ask that diamond dog's name.  Either way, she'd say that she owed them each a beer, but a candlelight dinner followed by a menage sounded more appropriate for just how far they stuck their necks out for a filly who was as close to a damsel in distress as she could get.

 

She hated that, especially; the part about loss of control.  Bronze always hoped that she'd at least die with dignity, like in a hail of bullets as she burned Dead Hoof's camp to the ground.  Instead, not only did she almost die in a puddle of her own vomit to a cannibal who would have likely ate her alive, but she was now completely dependent on a random stallion she had only met a few hours ago and a diamond dog that she had known for even less time.  She was in a SNAFU situation the likes of which she hadn't seen before fleeing her homeworld, and it was all because she had thrown any sort of personal responsibility out the window.

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Roleplaying for Eight Years and Counting!

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@ @@Hazard Time

 

"Alright, buck this." Lance had figured out the basics of driving the runner, and he was aiming for a strip of flat badlands that seemed endless. Lance floored the gas pedal and the runner sped away. Luckily, this was flat ground, because any bumps would have sent the runner soaring at this speed. I'm not going to stop, sooo... I hope those thugs don't happen to have any more runners to chase us with. 

Edited by genessee
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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@ @@Hazard Time

 

"Alright, buck this." Lance had figured out the basics of driving the runner, and he was aiming for a strip of flat badlands that seemed endless. Lance floored the gas pedal and the runner sped away. Luckily, this was flat ground, because any bumps would have sent the runner soaring at this speed. I'm not going to stop, sooo... I hope those thugs don't happen to have any more runners to chase us with. 

@@Hazard Time

 

A blazing of blistering bullets, hail of gunfire scoring on the thick hull with Mel's trucks hull: slowly losing track as they curved along the turns in the junkyard maze until they had beelined from the New Haven yard exit the massive shutter doors sliding shut leaving the bandits to their small kingdom behind. A jump past a mass gated wreckage and into straight lands with the massive sun baring on them.

 

With all calmed and a smoking barrel he noted to Bronze clinging to his arm.

"Off me." He grunted pulling his arm back letting her settle back into her seat. Turning over a large rock spire ahead a cracked paved road was noted to their right. Just down its length a Station reading "Lucky's Watering Hole"

 

"There! Park over there!" He hollered down to them pointing in the general direction.

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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@ @@Hazard Time

 

Lance tried to calm down as the stranger told him to park 'over there'. What 'there'? There's nothing but... oh wait... oh, a bar. Lance drove his companions towards the bar, called 'Lucky's Watering Hole'. A large clover adorned the front sign as well, to go with the 'Lucky' theme. Lance got to the parking lot, and stopped the runner. "Everybody alive?" He asked.

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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@ @@Hazard Time

 

Lance tried to calm down as the stranger told him to park 'over there'. What 'there'? There's nothing but... oh wait... oh, a bar. Lance drove his companions towards the bar, called 'Lucky's Watering Hole'. A large clover adorned the front sign as well, to go with the 'Lucky' theme. Lance got to the parking lot, and stopped the runner. "Everybody alive?" He asked.

Remaining locked behind them he started with intent as though to wait for their incoming foes. Several seconds passing on.

"301? Any signs?" He spoke, as though to none in particular.

"Negative sir. All vitals showing positive as well." His mechanical friend responded in his ECHO.

 

"I'm all good." He said jumping down from his spot with rifle in his paw. He let out a sigh sitting on the wheel guard of their runner.

 

"Nice driving son." He said in a slightly fatherly attitude considering their age gap.

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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@

 

"Good." Lance was happy that this stranger (He was really starting to tire from calling him 'stranger') wasn't injured. "Are we going to go into the bar, or are we just gonna start driving again?" Lance wanted to know. He was hoping for option #1, Lance really needed to rest. Oh, and Bronze. She really needs to relax for a second, I probably just would've curled up and died if I were her right now. Speaking of Bronze, I should apologize for getting her into this mess. 

 

@@Hazard Time

 

"Hey, Bronze? I'm sorry for messing up and getting you into this mess. It's my fault we got captured, and Blood tried to eat us. I mean, if I had decided to not take a drink, we would've been totally fine. I mean, sure, you'd still have a hangover, but..." Lance shrugged in his seat. "Heh, that's nothing compared to what you've been through. So, uh, sorry for putting you through that." And with that, Lance hopped out of the runner and asked, "You need any help getting out?"


You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@genessee,

 

"WATCH WHERE YOUR GOING" a low voice yelled at Lance, another green pony mutant. Though this time a small and annoying one. It growled at him and showed her teeth, this filly wasn't to be messed with after all, it looked surprisingly familiar, after all. "I BITE, SO DON'T STEP ON ME" she hissed. She pushed Lance's leg which amounted to the wind trying to blow a boulder. 

 

Blood_2017.png

 

A small herd of zombies were gathered closely currently drinking, after all the bar was named after the famous zombie waterhole. Best zombie sports and recreational pastimes in several generations. In this part of the world, Zombie mutants were worshiped, after all. A worshiped zombie is less likely to eat you. Several of them were watching the filly zombie growling at the new arrivals, bemused.

Edited by BloodDrops

IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU'RE ALIVE OR DEAD

 

img-40012-1-img-40012-1-img-40012-1-img-

 

YOUR MAREFRIEND IS ALWAYS RIGHT

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@@BloodDrops @ @@Hazard Time

 

Lance just about had a heart attack when he heard the voice. He swung around, ready for an attack, but there was nopony behind him. "What?.." Lance looked down, and he saw a young pony. It reminded him of Blood. Wait a minute. What's a child doing on Pandora? "Whoa, I don't want any trouble." Lance shot a glance at the unnamed ally. He mouthed 'This is just a filly, right?' 


You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@genessee,

 

 The small filly wasn't impressed "well you got trouble. You don't step on me and get away with it that easily" she growled. She nodded at the vehicle. "You can't just park it like that either, You have to pay parking, or anyone can come sit on it or steal it" she added with a snort. 

 

"If you got more then a wheel, it costs you double, if you got four wheels, then it costs you triple. Since you've got nice seats that's also extra. So you owe around 10,000 units give or take a million" she snorted.

 

She glared at Lance waiting for him to pay her


IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU'RE ALIVE OR DEAD

 

img-40012-1-img-40012-1-img-40012-1-img-

 

YOUR MAREFRIEND IS ALWAYS RIGHT

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@@BloodDrops @@Hazard Time @

 

Normally Lance would be panicking at this point, but because it was only a filly, he could simply not pay. This is going to come back and bite me, isn't it? Oh well, I don't really have a choice. "Um, no. How about you run along now? Go on, scoot." Lance gently pushed the filly away. He then turned back around towards the stolen runner and Bronze. "So do you need help getting out or what?"


You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@genessee,

 

The small filly snorted at being nudged away. "This isn't over" she growled at Lance, she shot him one last glare. She then trotted away, she would get paid the money somehow. She knew a certain pony that could help her out. She trotted over to the cluster of zombie ponies.


IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU'RE ALIVE OR DEAD

 

img-40012-1-img-40012-1-img-40012-1-img-

 

YOUR MAREFRIEND IS ALWAYS RIGHT

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@@genessee

 

"Help your friend there- I'll look about the place." He says noting that its EMPTY (Meaning no [Confirmed] horde of zombies perusing the bar.)

 

With rifle held onto his hip from a small sling hoop he pressed at the sealed door pulling at its latch and heftly opening it forward. To its right a small canteen bar sloopy about with unused beer, toolboxs, various magazines and a dart board lay about littered with bullets he may add.

"That's not how you play darts.." He whispered. 

 

To the left- a rusted cage with tattered clothing lining it as a makeshift wall- a toilet and strung out bed lay inside with the cell door open. No pony home? Ahead near the door the three vending shops could be noted. Guns, Ammo, Health/Shields/Mods. Everything a gun totting bounty hunter needs. 

 

Returning outside he waved lightly at his comrades. 

"Nopony home- but its peaceful enough." He commented. 

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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@@Hazard Time @

 

Lance was waiting for Bronze to come out of the runner (or request help) when his ally appeared from Lucky's. Nopony home? Cool. "Alright. I'll catch up." Lance was starting to feel sick and injured. Oh, well. I know what's happening. The adrenaline from the battle was wearing off, which was canceling out the hangover and injuries Lance had acquired earlier that day. It was all Lance to do from doubling over. Still, he plastered a fake smile on his face as he waited for Bronze.

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You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@Ranger22 - @Light of Night

 

Torgue makes some quality stuff.

 

For example, most folks who get their mitts on a rocket launcher simply want to discharge a shell of high-explosive power into their opponents, leaving more or less a bloody stain where they once were.  This is one of the big draws about the weapon in the first place, as it's difficult to come up with something able to withstand the full-on brunt of a high-velocity rocket.

 

Torgue?  They make stuff that fires THREE of the damned things at once.

 

The rockets impacted with the cyborg's shields, and promptly turned them to toast.  There was a pop from behind the monstrosity, and a wisp of smoke curled upward - that shield, regardless of its' power, was now forevermore kaput.  Of course, that paled in comparison to the complete obliteration of the helpless mare encased within the nightmarish harness... at least she got her wish.

 

I wiped a chunk of what I hoped WASN'T brain matter from my left goggle-lens; the problem that had been in front of us mere moments ago was now a non-problem.  Efficiency was certainly not gonna be an issue for the three of us.

 

"Us"... heh, I actually liked the sound of that.

 

Then, I heard a sound I'd hoped I'd NEVER have to hear again...

 

[*SQUAWK* *CRACKLE*  Well, well, well... it seems about time you got here, 699 - you're running a bit late, don't you know?]

 

The voice from the loudspeakers was cultured, yet somewhat oily and darkly smooth.  Cultured, yet unhinged - like the warden of a high-class asylum who's just begun to flip their own lid.

 

[i've been waiting and waiting... and it seems as if you've finally gotten around to returning!  How de-LIGHT-ful!  Now, I'm sure you're eager to reach your destination, 699, so I'll be brief - I'm now sending my entire security contingent to your current location, so you have a choice to make, eh?  Shall you continue forward to your destiny... or will you opt instead to try to save your companions the same fate as SO MANY OTHERS have experienced within the walls of MY laboratory!]

 

Doc Skinner sounded just as loopy as he always had... but there was a bit of a manic tone to his voice, as if the years hadn't been kid to his sanity - or rather, what remained of it.

 

[Now, the best part is I already KNOW what you'll choose - I'm simply waiting to see what your erstwhile companions have to say about it!  Time's-a-wastin', 699!  Might wanna hurry it up with the decision-making-process, eh?]

 

I looked back at Whitetip and Rose.

 

"Either of you want out?  Now's your chance..."

 

Why in Tartarus did he keep calling me "699"?

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Fnord.

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Obliterated...the cybernetic mare's shields were the first to go, followed by the rest of her body blowing up into charred and messy chunks, coating the walls with a spray of gore. Whitetip's body stung like hell, but he had the misfortune to say that he had faced worse before, it would have taken a lot more to bring down the griffon. Making sure he had nothing more than bruises the mercenary felt up his armor looking for any possible penetration or dents while his shield recharged. Nothing, the griffon let out a sigh of relief before looking behind his armored posterior to check up on Rose. Whitetip was glad to say that she had no obvious injuries on her person, Whitetip found it a little amusing that she had her weapon out as well. Before the griffon could say anything in response someone spoke up on the speakers.

 

Whoever was behind the voice had sounded like an unsavory blend of megalomania,psychosis, and arrogance. Those description may have been contradicting but this doctor skinner individual deserved not the decency of Whitetup putting an effort to make sense. "699? That many people disappearing on Pandora isn't exactly a small chunk of the population believe it or not. If this guy goes Pandora will have a looot more clients for me to exploit, I'm finishing this job and I'm staying alive for the end of it." Whitetip said as he destructed his drone for later engagements, "Not that an entire security contingent is an easy feat mind you. If we all carry our own weight like the last fight we have a pretty damn good chance, speaking with a hella large percentage error by the way." Whitetip inspected his weapon as he waited for everyone else to make their decisions.

Edited by Ranger22
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@@Ranger22,@@Randimaxis,

 

When the suffering mare exploded, Dusk Rose instinctively raised a hoof to shield herself from the debris.  A few flying metal bits made some small cuts in her sleeves, but there was no damage to herself for her shield to ward off.  When she lowered her hoof, she saw what  remained of the mare and stared.  It wasn't a mutilated stranger she saw. Rose saw instead an aging unicorn mare who was a lighter shade of purple with the same pale yellow eyes.  Her last request echoed in her head, but it wasn't in the stranger's strangled voice.  She heard her own response to it from a mere two months back.  That was the last time she saw her, hopefully not the very last.

 

She let out a sigh, shaking her head.  Looking up, she briefly met Whitetip's gaze before quickly looking to the side.  She was just about to say "Thanks" before a most grating voice came on the speakers.  Her ears twitched in annoyance every few seconds as she listened, though annoyance wasn't all she felt.

 

Looking around, Rose half-expected to be set upon on all directions by more cyborg monstrosities.  She looked around for possible escape routes, putting away her guns and going through a mental list of her personal weaponry.  It was foolish, coming down here with only a few recorded accounts, the occasional correspondence, and other things as clues.  Walking around to get a better look at the place without wandering too far from the group, she flatly answered,"I have to know.  And even if I wanted to leave, I have a feeling he wouldn't let me go so easily.  If we want to survive, we end this."  Turning away from them, she checked the ammo in her pistols while going over ways to counter the enemies they had seen thus far.

Edited by Light of Night
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@@genessee @

 

Bronze staggered out of the vehicle and blearily looked around.  The moment she spied the Dr. Zed machine, however, her eyes went wide and she did her best to stumble over towards it.  All she needed was a single health syringe...but that costed money, money that had been stolen from her when she was back in New Haven.

 

She looked around and blindly snatched one of the Echo devices from her companions, interfacing it with the machine, and paying the hundred or so dollars.  "I owe you," she mumbled, reaching into the receptacle and pulling out a syringe, which she proceeded to stab herself with.  Her eyes went wide and her body quaked, but by the time the used needle hit the ground, the spark was back in her eyes.

 

"Alright, first fing's first, I owe bofe a you a life.  Second, I need a weapon.  And a shield.  And dosh wif which I can buy said weapon, shield, and anyfing else that might come to mind.  Any good ideas, me garden gates?"

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Roleplaying for Eight Years and Counting!

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List of All My Active OCs

 

 

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@@Hazard Time @

 

It took a minute for Lance to answer. He was too busy attempting not to kneel over and die to notice. But then his eyes landed on the Zed machine. For a split second, there was hope that he wouldn't need to spend the remainder of the day vomiting and dying inside until he realised he had no money, Bronze had no money (Although, she looked perkier for some reason) and Lance was too shy to ask for money from the diamond dog that had saved him. So Lance figured he would have to tough it out. Tough it out? You realise you could just ask and he'd probably give the money to you. But what if he says no? And plus, it's not like you're gonna die. You'll just have to be slightly more of a sack of uselessness to the team for the day. Lance fought himself in his head, and eventually decided he wouldn't ask. I'll be fine-ish. His head pounded and he now found it difficult to keep his eyes fully open. So he trotted over to the runner and leaned against it, then crouched against it, and finally sat against it. "Uh, you guys can go get weapons or whatever. I'll catch up in a little while, or we can meet here or something." Wow, you look like a total idiot right now. But I don't care, right now I'll focus on not passing out. 

  • Brohoof 1

You have laid your eyes upon my post. Be afraid. Please. With a cherry on top? I'm dying here...

 

Oh and here's my OC, I guess: Lance

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@@genessee @

 

Bronze staggered out of the vehicle and blearily looked around.  The moment she spied the Dr. Zed machine, however, her eyes went wide and she did her best to stumble over towards it.  All she needed was a single health syringe...but that costed money, money that had been stolen from her when she was back in New Haven.

 

She looked around and blindly snatched one of the Echo devices from her companions, interfacing it with the machine, and paying the hundred or so dollars.  "I owe you," she mumbled, reaching into the receptacle and pulling out a syringe, which she proceeded to stab herself with.  Her eyes went wide and her body quaked, but by the time the used needle hit the ground, the spark was back in her eyes.

 

"Alright, first fing's first, I owe bofe a you a life.  Second, I need a weapon.  And a shield.  And dosh wif which I can buy said weapon, shield, and anyfing else that might come to mind.  Any good ideas, me garden gates?"

@@genessee

 

"Lets just catch our breath here. Seems pretty calm so far." He commented to Lance as he re-entered following with Bronze with her sudden change in attiude from the healing additives of the syringe.

 

From his inventory he retireved his Vladof Peasant assault rifle reaching out to her with the stock facing her.

"I'll do fine without." He says allowing her to take it.

 

"Sorry. I got no spare shields. Though if you had me my Echo... " he grumbled a bit noting that she swiped his.

"I can give you the cash for a cheap one." He finishes.

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Do stick around Darling, I could use the company~

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