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@deathwent-a-blog
THIS BLOG IS NOW AN ARCHIVE. catch me refreshing shit over at @deathwent!
THIS BLOG IS NOW AN ARCHIVE. catch me refreshing shit over at @deathwent!
THIS BLOG IS NOW AN ARCHIVE. catch me refreshing shit over at @deathwent!
THIS BLOG IS NOW AN ARCHIVE. catch me refreshing shit over at @deathwent!
MULTIPLAYR.
“MODERN FARMING STARTED around the eighteenth century, called it the British Agricultural Revolution. That’s what created the four field rotation system, and the selective cross-breeding that began on an industrial scale to increase crop sizes and yields. It changed the whole playing field, and contributed to what we’ve got with the corn industry today. Then the ecological age pulled through, which was good——— Hey, Gabe, you listenin’?”
/ @deathwent
“...am i supposed to be?” the room is dimmer than he figured it would be and it takes gabe a second to search him out when he bothers to crack an eye open, but all of the baleful disinterest he can muster is pointedly directed at jack. “you plannin’ on quizzing me later or has it just been a while since you had an excuse to hear yourself talk?”
Gabe: I want to do the thing
Jack: You can’t do the thing, the thing is illegal
Gabe: I really want to do the thing
Jack:
breaking news: beautiful man is very tired
quick reasons not to trust m/oira in r/etribution && followed up with these addendums about jesse and g/enji
Gabriel Reyes in Retribution
Retribution
i don’t play by those rules either.
VAQUERON.
❛ hey, no. i know what you’re thinkin’ ‘n i can find my own way out. you — you gotta mission t’complete and you’re wastin’ time on little ‘ol me. look m’only gonna slow you down ‘n i can collect my stuff when we land. be outta your hair all nice like. ❜ the distance between them closes significantly, causing jesse to take several steps backwards. enough that his back clashes with the other side of the airplane, allowing gloved fingers to lace around some dangling equipment strap. ❛ GABRIEL REYES, NO. GABE. ❜
there’s nowhere to go on that little plane and the both of them know full well that there’s a mission at stake below them: if they don’t go now they’re going to miss the landing zone altogether. “the way i see it—” his fingers curl almost tenderly under the strap of the parachute jesse’s already strapped himself into, “—you had two choices: you jump, or i make you jump. looks like you’re going with option two?”
any response jesse might have had is lost to the wind as gabe abruptly one-two steps them both across the width of the plane and hauls jesse out the door into empty space with him.
SYNTHMAMA.
There’s only a few seconds spared to check the state of her disguise. Brotherhood uniform, all faded olive and grey tones. Quinn’s left arm feels vulnerable without the familiar weight of her Pip-Boy. She grabs the rifle propped by the door, hefting it low in her hands. To outsiders, they’re nothing more than patrolling recruits.
“Name one example how that could’ve happened,” Quinn remarks. Shoots him a look, narrowed. She’s pushing him to talk more. A couple squires block the path ahead. “Because if anything, I’d say it was the other way around.”
“you’re not nearly as good as you think you are.” it’s patently false and they both know it even before the words are out of his mouth. it’s not even an example of anything, just a statement, a sarcastic jab at whatever abilities she’s managed to cultivate in her time in the commonwealth.
he makes a point of checking his weapon—face drawn tight and brotherhood serious as if he’s been in training for years—and drops his voice, speaking to his hands and not quinn to keep the squires’ attention off them. “you’re doubting my abilities?” there’s something not entirely sincere in his voice, bordering on sarcasm. “because as far as i know, one of us is meant to be here.”
@synthmama:
quinn gave that to him for a white elephant party
gabe vc: i’m going undercover gabe: gabe: gabe: (slowly puts on his BITCH sleepmask)
@synthmama:
quinn gave that to him for a white elephant party
gabe vc: i'm going undercover gabe: gabe: gabe: (slowly puts on his BITCH sleepmask)