halicarnassusHorror

Your name is JAKE ENGLISH. And you're a connoisseur of ONLY THE DEADLIEST OF FIREARMS. An unselective vagabond in the ART OF MOVIE VIEWING, in taste and in discretion. And what's more - you're a DASHING LIBERTINE with a knack for whisking off cerulean-tinted damsels off their paisley feet. Or you'd like to think you'd be, if your island accommodated any. Which it doesn't. Some may define your manner of speech as a little offbeat, but you know that's all just a LOAD OF CODSWALLOP. The day's ripe for adventure and mayhem, so ONWARDS AND UPWARDS!

[halicarnassushorror]

[extremelysharp]

Shooting through your mind leaving holes in your memory.

[billehbuttons-blog]

[themouldylovers]

One of fiiiiiinest noir games about already dead skeletons with the fiiiiiinest jazz and mariachi soundtracks. 

[p0k0u]

[halicarnassushorror]

[acyanrust]

Hrrrrg. <3

[operatorsgonnaoperate]

[lovelyberger]

[halicarnassushorror]

Oh good sweet sign of the cross.

THIS is most definitely not jungle situated but none the less a structure i would not be opposed to calling home.

[lovedbythebuffalo]

Mauser C96

Fun fact: The C96 was modified to form Han Solo’s prop blaster pistol for the Star Wars films.

[mmmai]

[hurricanecochina-blog]

[invisiblesilver-deactivated2012]

[liftmyskinnyfists]

Handguns

[timaeustechnocrat]

[Past]Dirk => Respond

[timaeustechnocrat]

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Uh.

There’s really no way you can say no. You can pretty much feel every and all of Jake’s allusions about you shattering in one massive explosion like a museum under heavy fire.

Yeah, alright.

At least, if nothing else, he’ll be able to see how sorry you really are like this. You know, before he realizes how garbage you are and tosses you to the curb like he should have done right from the very start.

You initialize the video chat and pray for a second that the buffering will freeze before the feed goes live. It doesn’t. And you’re left staring bleary and sleepless back at the boy of your (occasionally literal) dreams. You don’t need to look at the little minimized thumbnail of yourself to confirm that you’ve looked better.

“Shit. Uh. Hey.”

You shift back against the wall behind your bed and try to angle the camera a little better. Something more flattering. It doesn’t really work.

“I guess I really don’t know what…else to say. Besides being sorry.”

It’s much more difficult to say out loud.

You have to force yourself to meet his eye through the screen.

[halicarnassushorror]

You're pretty sure voice is a better comfort than text.  Or something.  That's your intention anyway, though the worry you've been feeling wells up more when you see him.  Because you were right about your All Kinds of Hellish theory.  And it makes it only a hundred times harder to address what you're identifying as anger right now.

That, and just a plain need to see him and grab hold of whatever kind of closeness you can latch onto being something-thousand miles away.

But when he's on his screen and you're on your screen, you're at a loss for what to say.  At least as much as he seems to be.

You can't seem to manage to uncurl yourself much from your current seated position.  If anything, you curl tighter.  And the looking at the camera thing is proving to be difficult.  Maybe video chat wasn't the best idea.  Well, fuck.

You listen to him and there's a straining pause before you respond.  Or try to.

"I..."

Not the best start.  You run a hand through your hair.  Look into some random space in the room at nothing.  What were you even about to say?

"Thought gathering, my apologies.  Yes.  Alright.  Listen, Strider.  Don't think I'm going to hand you an icy mitt over..."

The thought turns your stomach just a little.  It's the first time you've felt it.

"Over some dippy non-kosher escapade between you and whoever.  An accidental escapade at that."

That's one way to put it.  And then your words hit a brick wall and you're not sure what to do.

So.  You laugh.  It's hollow and anything but your laugh.  You're probably not even smiling or it's a hell of a crooked smile.  You don't hear it though, your mind's just all sorts of occupied with Strider being and looking and hearing in all the ways you've never known him to be.

"Sweet jeepers though, you really do look like absolute hell."

[halicarnassushorror]

Clearly no one told mr.jones about the automated temple stairs.

[halicarnassushorror]

Without going into great detail of mr.macs associate being thoroughly and rapidly devoured alive by a raving mass of fire ants that was one of the finer close ups + theme music shots of jones.  Crystal skull in hand and all.