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Snippet #2395095

located in America, a part of Touch, one of the many universes on RPG.

America

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rowan "Boston" Alder Character Portrait: Tech
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[[OCC: Use the posts on Rowan as a compainion to this post]]
My ribs stung. Is this what it feels like to be run over? What happ- ah dinner was playing hard to get. I looked around and the sight probably should've surprised me or atleast stirred some kind of emotion. My stomach rumbled. He didn't come out too far worse, I noted seeing what was supposed to be my next meal bleeding in a pile.

It didn't take much time to realise what I was going to do and easily started to grab stuff off the bodies not completely aware of the process. It seemed to jostle dinner when I poured the contents of the tin on him. "Wasn't the plan NOT to wake me again?", he complained, clutching his wound.

That was, I briefly thought, but now it wasn't "Now now, lets not jump the gun," I stumbled, "I'm not really a fighter, you may have noticed. I need you now as much as you need me". Shaking again, still so strange. I unwrapped a cloth that I was wearing and attempted to wrap it around dinner.

"I'm not you're boyfriend, I can dress my wounds myself," he exclaimed flicking my fingers away. "I won't be easy to eat on my feet, so if you're trying to save me for later I'd think of something else", he muttered, after lashing the cloth roughly around his waist. "And which unfortunate did you eat and "acquire" this off?", indicating to his new dress wound which was now quite firmly in place.

I wasn't really listening to the suvivor. one job done, next and more importantly. Hello my chubby friend. "Are you...?", the suvivor began as I sat next to biscuit and lowering my scarf and biting into Biscuits arm. Be the shame of armies to let you waste. Blood trickled down my cheeks. Think I'll keep you, 'buddy'. My hands gingerly portioning my once comrade into edible sizes for later.

Finshing unburdening the rest of the deceased crew I absently started towards the survivor, "You're not in mountain. No, we're beneath some town... catacombs, that's what they call them". I think we can make it to her. I paused

"Well if you're done looting, parts and otherwise, we'll part ways", the suvivor stated.

He's planning to leave me! This may take some work. "You can't...That is, please don't leave me", I pleaded, "I was in a bad place with those guys but I can be better." I lifted my green glasses up revealing a blue and a green eye. "I'm useful too, they don't call me Tech for grins, it's not a funny name", I explained as I involentarily shook, Twitching, think that it's my body responding because I don't feel like panicking.

"Look, understand I'm not your babysitter," The suvivor began already agreeing, "You try killing anyone who isn't killing us - you and I will have problems.. Yes your bandit friends are fine to eat." he shook his head. We continued past the cart and along the catacomb, that strange saw strapped to Bostons? he talked alot back, and he began to hum a bizzare song as we walked, descending past the flickering orange and yellow gas lights into darkness.



The catacombs had been twisting and branching in many directions; visible light had ended a fair while back but I knew where we where, I won't forget again. "Do you even know where we're going? I'm sure this isn't the way back," Boston questioned reaching out with his left arm to tunnels wall.

"I call that one tasty," I said jovially as Boston withdrew his hand from wall. It's nice to see friends getting along.

"It's a skeleton, isn't it?" Boston dryly replied. I nodded, unphased. We had reach the fork, Left is a good option, Right almost equally so, it depends but I really think its time to do that. I ramble even in my head sometimes. "You know this safe spot can wait, I hardly doubt we'll run into anyone down here, understand?" Boston was mumbling to himself again and slowing his pace. Can't get good help these days.

"No it's not far, I'm pretty sure," Tech assured, disappearing left. The lair had more salt, I'll need more.



Turning the corner I stopped. This isn't the way I reassessed my thoughts but came up empty, what had gone wrong? Insted of being on track for the lair, ahead was that beauty of a buggy, abanonded and in disrepair. Strange. Still this would've been my second choice. I had been saving pieces up for a while now and jerked up to Johnny, the skeleton wearing a pack. Thanks for the a-ssist. Huh, Boston was gone. A frown almost crossed my face but I continued onto the dirlect buggy, dragging Johnny behind leaving a small cloud of dust trailing behind. It's play time. I unzipped the bag dropping much of the supplies on the floor and started working, Johnny was smiling.