postal dude

This can’t be good for me, but I feel great!

[phantomspiders]

More guys I forgot to post

[oddsockk-deactivated20230501]

i think i’m in love with him

[postaldudey]

I don't have any art done yet but HAPPY 25TH POSTAL ANNIVERSARY!! spent today playing postal redux with some friends that had never played before :D

[andr3mdl]

This can't be good for me, but... Yeah, It really is!

Happy 25Th Anniversary, Postal!

[larathefox]

dreamy sigh<3

[weirdlildude]

God I want the postal 25 anniversary dad cap-...and him ♡

[pigeonmilkin-deactivated2025101]

uh huh

[kalevalaknights]

i like them. they should beat each other up more

[brain-damaged-dude]

just chilling in #postal

My fans are soooo talented, hahah

[ratg0r3]

watch where you step though >.>

just sayin

[brain-damaged-dude]

Are there protesters and cops lurking here too?? Aw, come on!!

[ratg0r3]

ehhhh- no, more of uh. hm, one sec

[carlyraejepsans]

carrying the world's specialest little guy (fictional character who makes me ill) in my mouth like a mother cat except they're way too big for me so i have to do that dumb looking side waddle with my front legs

[paradisesoldier]

The Dude blows out smoke, trudging over mud and snow. A snowman stands watch over the front yard, peeking over wooden board fences. The same boards cover broken windows, with paint chipping off the walls around them. There’s no birds, no neighbours. Perfect and alone, by his standard. Though, he didn’t really have standards. Just a guy trying to get by, he would say.

For some reason, though, he was silent. For the whole way there, and still.

He frowns, swiping an eviction notice off the door and crumpling it, soon discarded outside.

Welcome home.

He pushes the door open and puts his backpack aside, not a word yet.

A short whistle is the only sound, besides him patting his leg.

[ @cold-bitter-hatred ]

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he slides his duffle bag off of his shoulder and places on the ground near the front door, he’d silently inspect his surroundings*

…

[paradisesoldier]

He takes his hat off and sets it on a table covered in dust and wood shavings, along with a knife and some oddly shaped wooden figures. . A small journal is there, as well.

Mud, blood and dirt are common tracks in the house, making their own no different. Many fights won and lost, each in their own blood trail stained in the floors forever.

“ Hope you didn’t expect a high grade bunker, or something. ” The Dude mumbles, flipping useless light switches that only bare a flickering light.

“ Champ? Here boy! ” He left to another room for a moment, and returned with the beloved puppy in arms.

“ Here’s the killer. ” He smiles.

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*his hair hid his face, but he had a small smile creeping onto it*

Aw… He’s just a little guy…

*he hesitates to pet Champ, but just softly pats his head once, he didn’t want to admit it, but he was a little afraid of dogs*

[paradisesoldier]

The puppy sneezes, shaking his head.

“ Cute little thing, huh. He’ll be a tough guy in no time. . ”

It’s the only thing in the house he seems to smile at. For once, he’s gentle, patting Champ with his gloved hand.

“ Sleeps ‘n eats more than me, that’s for sure. ”

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he’d nod in agreement*

Well… I mean he seems happy to be your dog… so… you’re doing something right…

*he tried to say something nice, but that just wasn’t really in his nature, he pats the puppy again, slightly less hesitant than last time*

[paradisesoldier]

“ Anything’s better than some dingy alley, anyway. . ” His smile drops for a moment, at the thought. “ I’d know. ”

“ It’s not a rich guy’s bachelor pad, but it’s something like home. ” He jokes, looking down at Champ. Happy puppy.

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he’d chuckle a little and continue petting champ*

Hey, at least you’re trying… Hell… Your place is better than mine back in New York… Had to pay nearly a thousand a month for fucking rent… while that “home” was actively on its last limb…

[paradisesoldier]

“ Jesus, how’s anyone pay for that. . ”

Champ yaps, something like a squeak.

“ Damn, He thinks it’s bullshit too. ”

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he’d smile softly at champ and Dude’s reaction*

Yeah, tell me about it… New York was a hellhole anyway… “over hyped” or some shit like that…

[paradisesoldier]

“ Sounds about right. Thought it was the best place a guy could be. ”

He shrugs.

“ I’m guessing you’re gonna be around in ‘Paradise’ for a while, then. Unless you got plans. ”

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he thinks for a moment, then finally responds*

Yeah… probably… Once the military inevitably finds me in “Paradise” though… I either repeat what I did in New York… or I run off to somewhere else…

[paradisesoldier]

“ Either way, I wouldn’t mind the escape. ”

He blows some hair away from his face, and fixes his glasses with one hand.

“ If it’s nuclear, though. . Give me a heads up. . ? ”

[cold-bitter-hatred]

Of course… I’d hate to see you and your dog get turned to ash… from my actions…

*he’d move a bit of hair out the way of his eyes and continue petting Champ with a slight smile on his face*

[paradisesoldier]

“ Sounds like you’d miss me or something. Nah. ” He jokes, shaking his head. He’s smiling, however.

“ You’re. . Cool. ” He clears his throat, looking over his shoulder.

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*He seems a little shocked by the statement*

Thanks… You’re cool too… I guess… I mean you haven’t ratted me out to the cops or the military… so… I guess you’re pretty cool…

[paradisesoldier]

“ If I ratted you out, they’d be on my ass like stink on shit too. ”

He walks over to a couch, leather peeling off and bite marks here and there. He scoots some stuff out of the way, and puts Champ down.

“ I’ve got enough run-ins on my record. ” He shrugs, taking his coat off and draping it over the puppy, who bites at a sleeve, then settles down.

Despite The Dude’s tall stature, he’s quite thin.

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he’d hold back a chuckle and cross his arms*

What did you do…?

*he seemed sarcastic, but he was genuinely interested*

[paradisesoldier]

“ Well, ” He thought it over for a minute.

“ Thefts, break-ins, hot wiring cars, impersonating an officer. . That was one time. ” He grins.

“ Blew up a car or two. Sold organs. Public pissing. . Didn’t even know that was a crime. . ”

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he fails to suppress his laughter and holds his sides while laughing*

Heh, Nice…

*he eventually calms his laughter and just puts his hands in his pockets, chuckling every now and then*

[paradisesoldier]

“ Most of the time I got out of it and hid away, sometimes I’d be in there for a while. ”

He walks over and digs through a cupboard, taking out an empty pill bottle. Damn.

“ I guess my worst crime to them is living here. In my house. ” He rolls his eyes.

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he’d lean against a wall and cross his arms*

This town fucking sucks for that…

*he’d mumble under his breath and fidget with a loose thread on his coat*

[paradisesoldier]

He puts the bottle aside and gets a can of soup.

“ Yeah, but, takes a bit more than that shit to kick me out. When they come to drag my ass out, I’ll be ready. . ” His voice trails off into mumbling as he continues his search.

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he smiles maliciously as his hair falls further over his shoulders and towards his face*

Ohhh… I get it…

*he’d look over at the dude with a blank stare*

Did you lose something…?

[paradisesoldier]

He shakes his head, quietly mumbling “ Sorry, Champ. ” As he walks back over to his coat and checks a pocket or two. No pills.

“ Fuckin’ pills. . Not your problem. ”

“ Anyway, you hungry or something. ”

[cold-bitter-hatred]

… Maybe…

*he’d mumble, and put his hands back in his pockets, making sure his wallet was still there, he had about 50 bucks and a few cents*

[paradisesoldier]

He gives up his search and goes back for the soup can. “ Well, I’m having this. . ”

“ Unless you got a lunchbox in your duffel bag, I’ll look for another can. ”

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he’d walk over to his duffle bag and rustled through it, he found a can of tomato soup*

*he’d smile softly and walk back to the dude*

[paradisesoldier]

“ Oh, huh. ” He seems surprised, turning his attention to the label on his soup. Pumpkin.

“ I guess we have a few things in common. . ” He clinks his soup can to the other’s in cheers. Victory meal.

“ Let’s heat these up. I’ll see if I got any bread to dip in these. . ”

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he places the can on the counter and waits for Dude to finish heating up his soup, so he could heat up his own*

*he’d lean against a wall and cross his arms patiently*

[paradisesoldier]

His soup is soon in a bowl, and the pot is cleaned out. He hands it over to Nottem, yawning.

“ There ya go. ”

He wanders off and sits at his makeshift woodwork table, moving his clutter aside once again. He grabs his journal, and fishes a pen from his pocket, scribbling away as the other hand scoops soup with a spoon.

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he heats up the soup and pours it into a bowl, he walks over to the same table The Dude was sitting at, and joins him at the table*

*he doesn’t question what Dude was writing, but he assumed it was poetry, or maybe a diary entry of some sort, but he doesn’t seem to have any interest in asking about it*

[paradisesoldier]

It’s all silence, except for spoons clinking bowls. He doesn’t mind at all, simply scribbling away.

Occasionally looking up at Nottem, his shades fall down the bridge of his nose. Still, he doesn’t seem to care.

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he sighs and eventually finishes his soup, he gets up and places it in the sink, rinsing it off so if there was any residue wouldn’t dry onto the bowl*

*he goes back to the table and just watches The Dude’s pen dance across the page, not reading any of what he was writing, but just watching, something about it was relaxing in a way*

[paradisesoldier]

He looks up after a while of Nottem watching, and his hand stills. Soon, dismissing it and continuing. He hasn’t had much of his soup. .

He yawns again, scratching at the stubble on his chin.

[cold-bitter-hatred]

*he’d avert his eyes away from The Dude to literally anywhere else, but he’d eventually return to watching The Dude’s pen dance across the pages of the journal*

[paradisesoldier]

He gives it a minute, then smiles. The Dude’s gaze hidden by his sunglasses.

“ Kinda odd to stare. ” He didn’t seem to mind it, though.

He finally closes the journal, scooping away at his soup.

[ratg0r3]

[dolarhyde]

my victim tonight for cool down sketch

[kalevalaknights]

[ratg0r3]

Thanks man...

[kunstmaskin]

nothing going on here, he's been running up a flight of stairs, that's all

[sefrem]

Guys…

I drew me over that one meme

[18282838383838828828-deactivate]

P1 cringe comp

[phantomspiders]

Shoutout to the person who wanted me to draw these

[kaptn-k]

A little smoke break

[weirdlildude]

Sneaks into his trunk

[mysterymeattime]

me when i go postal brain damaged