-.. --- -. .----. -

Some things are better left unsaid.

[r-adler]

"you already know who i am.

"i see no reason to hide, unlike some people. the cat's already out of the bag, and who i am and what i did is already well known by now. and i have no regrets.

"of course, if you're curious, i'm open to chat."

[heyo, it's dog, and welcome to my iteration of our favorite asshole :D!

i just wanted to pop in to give y'all some rules:

i'd prefer that no minors interact with this account; as i am an adult writing will be accepting 18+ asks, i do not feel comfortable with minors interacting with me.

an addendum to the previous point: regarding the 18+ asks, i am perfectly okay with discussing kink related questions, however, i am not accepting anything regarding scat, watersports, and non-con.

considering how this is a side blog, i will not be able to follow back under this account.

lore questions are allowed, and encouraged! i've played through most of black ops continuum (waw, bo1, bo2, cold war, bo6) and it'd be fun to try and build a different kind of beast out of adler.

roleplaying is welcomed! but do remember that real life holds precedence. if you are uncomfortable with something or you want to change the rp / stop altogether, let me know, and i'll do the same!

anons are welcomed! and if you want, you may claim an emoji to tag yourself, go nuts (within reason) pestering adler! claimed sign offs:

shipping is okay, crack-ship or not! but expect adler to toy with you. you'll have to earn a serious relationship with him.

this portrayal of russell adler will be pretty out of character, but i will try my best to keep things reasonable! forgive me if i get his character wrong though, my memory of bocw is foggy at best. -v-"

regarding the timeline: it is set in an alternate timeline of bo6, hailing from the same universe of @a-mason (my other cod bocw ask blog) - 1992. disillusioned of the american dream, russell adler is still a powerful asset to those who need him, but he's not an agreeable man, and even worse: he's a loose cannon; he'll do just about anything to get an edge on the enemy.

now with all of that out of the way; sic 'em, guys!]

[r-adler]

I didn't expect to see you crawling around as well. Seems like you're losing the last few people that stood beside you. I'm not even surprised, anyone who keeps up with the type of person you are is either mentally unstable or probably at the verge of being broken by your suffocating presence.

Just another CIA dog getting what he deserves...isolation suits you well, Adler.

-@ask-his-protege

adler was perched outside a crumbling local bar in burgas. the new moon blotted out the dark alleys, and the dull hum of a small town nightlife filled the silence. he caught ear of heavy footfalls above the drone.

his well loved and cared for leather jacket crackling as he turned to the new body, hardly visible in the single light over his head. the aging blonde hummed, rocking his cigarillo between his index and thumb, rolling it back and forth in idle thought. words were said and heard, but it wasn't anything unheard of before - adler's heard it all at this point of his bitter life. he looked the other over, through a thick miasma of expensive, luxurious smoke. adler chuffed out a single, dull laugh.

"i don't even know who you are." he puffed at his smoke and turned his hand to watch the smouldering embers at the butt. adler blew out his mouthful, not caring for respect. taking a glance at the other, another quick once over gave him all he needed to know. "another one of perseus' men, hm?" his words are laced with wisps of blue. "there's nothing to gain from talking with me. i'm sure you know enough about me and what i've done." the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lip, but he wasn't all that impressed. "did you just want to stroke your little ego 'chatting' with me?"

[r-adler]

...How had it come to this? Freely talking about something so unsignificant as this without accusing the other of ruining lifes?

-

"noted." adler said simply, letting the other take his smoke. he had more, and he had money - he couldn't care less. he lit himself the one he offered to kuzmin. some things are better left dead.

he also shared in his thoughts: how are they so calm? bitter, bitter rivals smoking together and talking simply for the sake of talking. russell could rationalize it as lowering the other's guard, whittling him down to keep him under his thumb like a proper villain, but something in him was far too worn to pull out the gun he always carried, and was too human for him to care. (witnessing the endless combinations of futures and pasts, allies as enemies, enemies as allies, as family. he saw himself die countless times and wished for it even more. perhaps this was a half-hearted attempt at suicide.)

he cocked his head. "laos, huh? haven't been there too many times." adler puffed his smoke, debating on mentioning his men going after naga, then shook his head. "heard the local cuisine there was good; thoughts on it?" again, he thought 'why am i talking to this man as if he was an old friend?' then settled on the unsettling notion that being enemies was the most intimate relationship in the human condition.

[r-adler]

I didn't expect to see you crawling around as well. Seems like you're losing the last few people that stood beside you. I'm not even surprised, anyone who keeps up with the type of person you are is either mentally unstable or probably at the verge of being broken by your suffocating presence.

Just another CIA dog getting what he deserves...isolation suits you well, Adler.

-@ask-his-protege

adler was perched outside a crumbling local bar in burgas. the new moon blotted out the dark alleys, and the dull hum of a small town nightlife filled the silence. he caught ear of heavy footfalls above the drone.

his well loved and cared for leather jacket crackling as he turned to the new body, hardly visible in the single light over his head. the aging blonde hummed, rocking his cigarillo between his index and thumb, rolling it back and forth in idle thought. words were said and heard, but it wasn't anything unheard of before - adler's heard it all at this point of his bitter life. he looked the other over, through a thick miasma of expensive, luxurious smoke. adler chuffed out a single, dull laugh.

"i don't even know who you are." he puffed at his smoke and turned his hand to watch the smouldering embers at the butt. adler blew out his mouthful, not caring for respect. taking a glance at the other, another quick once over gave him all he needed to know. "another one of perseus' men, hm?" his words are laced with wisps of blue. "there's nothing to gain from talking with me. i'm sure you know enough about me and what i've done." the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lip, but he wasn't all that impressed. "did you just want to stroke your little ego 'chatting' with me?"

[r-adler]

"In this state? No…you couldn't even hunt down an ambitious duck like this."

-

adler scoffed. "didn't know what i expected."

again, adler shifted. dropping his head a bit, he examined the other's sleeves, pushed up to free the forearms riddled with scars and tattoos. in a brief moment of honest lucidity he took a second to burn each detail into his mind. (he wasn't dreaming anymore, never was, never will.) for what reason, he didn't know. perhaps it was his version understanding him, painful and invasive - the only form of connection he knew. peering into kuzmin's lived history; something beyond documents and photographs. payback for catching on, or a quiet apology he would never say sober.

war ruined them both, life ruined them both: they cling to what they have and what they have is war. what is there for them when war ended? the mutual unspoken reason of their quiet was bitter grief and guilt; both had their own reasons as for why, but the shared sentiment remained still. they're equals; hurt men that perpetuate the cycle.

[ask-his-protege]

His eyes followed his gaze, trying to find out what had the man so entranced. There it was again, that small glimmer of humanity this monster had shown him just a few minutes ago. Was he getting old or where they both losing the edge they once had? With his anger slowly cooling down he frowned, arms flexing slightly as he thought about holding them out. No, this was not what he came here for.

How had this situation switched so heavily? The silence was almost soothing and he hated that, he shouldn't feel this calm around what could almost be desribed as his mortal enemy. And yet he did, a sick and twisted kind of calm. Mutual understanding for a life that would lead to a grave they had dug themselves. Loneliness they both had created for themselves, isolation that was meant to keep others at a safe distance. "What is it with you and this interest in the small things?...This is not the first time you stared at me like this either." His words a weak attempt to keep a conversation going, to avoid that calm feeling that was slowly creeping up on him. This was Russell Adler, there was no peaceful intention in this man. At least that is what he told himself, what he deluded himself to think to make it easier to hate him.

[r-adler]

"the smallest things give the most information." adler itched at his stubble. "your tattoos; didn't see 'em back in '68, for example."

mindlessly, he felt for a pack of cigs. adler cursed under his breath, fished out one, and lit himself a smoke.

"some look old; you were off my radar for 2 years after kravchenko got your ass out, gives me reason to think he sent you to the gulag - must've gotten it in between work and sleep. a couple look pretty recent." he sucked in a drag and blew it out. "trying to reinvent yourself?"

turning to kuzmin, adler looked him in the eye. he thought for a second, then shook out a cigarette for the slav. for just this moment, between warfare and civilian life, they were bitter equals.

[r-adler]

I didn't expect to see you crawling around as well. Seems like you're losing the last few people that stood beside you. I'm not even surprised, anyone who keeps up with the type of person you are is either mentally unstable or probably at the verge of being broken by your suffocating presence.

Just another CIA dog getting what he deserves...isolation suits you well, Adler.

-@ask-his-protege

adler was perched outside a crumbling local bar in burgas. the new moon blotted out the dark alleys, and the dull hum of a small town nightlife filled the silence. he caught ear of heavy footfalls above the drone.

his well loved and cared for leather jacket crackling as he turned to the new body, hardly visible in the single light over his head. the aging blonde hummed, rocking his cigarillo between his index and thumb, rolling it back and forth in idle thought. words were said and heard, but it wasn't anything unheard of before - adler's heard it all at this point of his bitter life. he looked the other over, through a thick miasma of expensive, luxurious smoke. adler chuffed out a single, dull laugh.

"i don't even know who you are." he puffed at his smoke and turned his hand to watch the smouldering embers at the butt. adler blew out his mouthful, not caring for respect. taking a glance at the other, another quick once over gave him all he needed to know. "another one of perseus' men, hm?" his words are laced with wisps of blue. "there's nothing to gain from talking with me. i'm sure you know enough about me and what i've done." the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lip, but he wasn't all that impressed. "did you just want to stroke your little ego 'chatting' with me?"

[r-adler]

"In this state? No…you couldn't even hunt down an ambitious duck like this."

-

adler scoffed. "didn't know what i expected."

again, adler shifted. dropping his head a bit, he examined the other's sleeves, pushed up to free the forearms riddled with scars and tattoos. in a brief moment of honest lucidity he took a second to burn each detail into his mind. (he wasn't dreaming anymore, never was, never will.) for what reason, he didn't know. perhaps it was his version understanding him, painful and invasive - the only form of connection he knew. peering into kuzmin's lived history; something beyond documents and photographs. payback for catching on, or a quiet apology he would never say sober.

war ruined them both, life ruined them both: they cling to what they have and what they have is war. what is there for them when war ended? the mutual unspoken reason of their quiet was bitter grief and guilt; both had their own reasons as for why, but the shared sentiment remained still. they're equals; hurt men that perpetuate the cycle.

[r-adler]

I didn't expect to see you crawling around as well. Seems like you're losing the last few people that stood beside you. I'm not even surprised, anyone who keeps up with the type of person you are is either mentally unstable or probably at the verge of being broken by your suffocating presence.

Just another CIA dog getting what he deserves...isolation suits you well, Adler.

-@ask-his-protege

adler was perched outside a crumbling local bar in burgas. the new moon blotted out the dark alleys, and the dull hum of a small town nightlife filled the silence. he caught ear of heavy footfalls above the drone.

his well loved and cared for leather jacket crackling as he turned to the new body, hardly visible in the single light over his head. the aging blonde hummed, rocking his cigarillo between his index and thumb, rolling it back and forth in idle thought. words were said and heard, but it wasn't anything unheard of before - adler's heard it all at this point of his bitter life. he looked the other over, through a thick miasma of expensive, luxurious smoke. adler chuffed out a single, dull laugh.

"i don't even know who you are." he puffed at his smoke and turned his hand to watch the smouldering embers at the butt. adler blew out his mouthful, not caring for respect. taking a glance at the other, another quick once over gave him all he needed to know. "another one of perseus' men, hm?" his words are laced with wisps of blue. "there's nothing to gain from talking with me. i'm sure you know enough about me and what i've done." the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lip, but he wasn't all that impressed. "did you just want to stroke your little ego 'chatting' with me?"

[r-adler]

But then there was this switch, the way that man fixed his stance and his gaze. And there his own look changed as well. To the Russian it almost felt like he had caught a glimpse of a completely different man for just a moment before that disgusting beast showed it's fangs again. "You hide yourself…is this how the CIA want's their agents to be? Cold and indifferent? Or is it just your two faced vile attempt to make others feel comfortable around you? Letting down their guard to fall victim…"

-

adler cocked his head a bit. "you be the judge." adler said. "you're no better than me." he noted kuzmin's reaction, how he too shifted in response. (that brief realization that kuzmin had that he too was human felt dangerous on adler's part, for to him, he himself was nothing more than a monster.) he coughed into his hand, hiding a small frown.

a brief beat of quiet. adler cleared his throat of the thick of tar. partially to not deal with the stickiness caught behind his adam's apple, but to mostly cut the silence.

"humor me," he started, "why are you here? if you wanted to kill me, you obviously would've done it by now..." he tried to keep his voice level - but the grain of genuine, morbid, cautious curiosity bled through; he had to rectify that. "...if i hadn't gotten the drop on your ass already." he gave the other a smirk. a mask adler knew was obvious, but the two men seemed to have a mutual understanding of pride and ego, he assumed that'd it would be overlooked.

[r-adler]

I didn't expect to see you crawling around as well. Seems like you're losing the last few people that stood beside you. I'm not even surprised, anyone who keeps up with the type of person you are is either mentally unstable or probably at the verge of being broken by your suffocating presence.

Just another CIA dog getting what he deserves...isolation suits you well, Adler.

-@ask-his-protege

adler was perched outside a crumbling local bar in burgas. the new moon blotted out the dark alleys, and the dull hum of a small town nightlife filled the silence. he caught ear of heavy footfalls above the drone.

his well loved and cared for leather jacket crackling as he turned to the new body, hardly visible in the single light over his head. the aging blonde hummed, rocking his cigarillo between his index and thumb, rolling it back and forth in idle thought. words were said and heard, but it wasn't anything unheard of before - adler's heard it all at this point of his bitter life. he looked the other over, through a thick miasma of expensive, luxurious smoke. adler chuffed out a single, dull laugh.

"i don't even know who you are." he puffed at his smoke and turned his hand to watch the smouldering embers at the butt. adler blew out his mouthful, not caring for respect. taking a glance at the other, another quick once over gave him all he needed to know. "another one of perseus' men, hm?" his words are laced with wisps of blue. "there's nothing to gain from talking with me. i'm sure you know enough about me and what i've done." the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lip, but he wasn't all that impressed. "did you just want to stroke your little ego 'chatting' with me?"

[r-adler]

And yet this man couldn't stop himself from running his filthy mouth further. Some people really thrived in talking shit it seemed. "And here I thought the numbers would at least correct that foul mouth you have. I guess we both heavily miscalculated our skills that day."

-

adler grunted in response. "popular is an understatement." pocketing his hands, he gruffed. the night was pleasantly chilly but the cold was one of his unfortunate weaknesses.

he perked up a bit when the other mentioned his smokes. "it's a cigarillo, not a cigarette." he corrected lightly; a brief glimpse of humanity with, surprisingly, little to no malice. "see how it's wrapped in something different? that's tobacco leaf. basically a small cigar; you smoke it the same way too." his words were so casually knowing, no sense of superiority just a flicker of warm interest. adler took back out his cigarette book and presented kuzmin his cigar guillotine kept close to his smokes. "you can clip off the burnt parts and smoke it again. keep it until it's stale." he snapped the cigarette book shut and put it away.

the blonde couldn't help but laugh at the slav's words. "old habits die hard."

adler had a mecurial quality to him. he was slippery like a proper murderer; unreadable. warm and inviting one second, the next, he was back to ice cold. he shifted and watched kuzmin idly, studying him.

[r-adler]

I didn't expect to see you crawling around as well. Seems like you're losing the last few people that stood beside you. I'm not even surprised, anyone who keeps up with the type of person you are is either mentally unstable or probably at the verge of being broken by your suffocating presence.

Just another CIA dog getting what he deserves...isolation suits you well, Adler.

-@ask-his-protege

adler was perched outside a crumbling local bar in burgas. the new moon blotted out the dark alleys, and the dull hum of a small town nightlife filled the silence. he caught ear of heavy footfalls above the drone.

his well loved and cared for leather jacket crackling as he turned to the new body, hardly visible in the single light over his head. the aging blonde hummed, rocking his cigarillo between his index and thumb, rolling it back and forth in idle thought. words were said and heard, but it wasn't anything unheard of before - adler's heard it all at this point of his bitter life. he looked the other over, through a thick miasma of expensive, luxurious smoke. adler chuffed out a single, dull laugh.

"i don't even know who you are." he puffed at his smoke and turned his hand to watch the smouldering embers at the butt. adler blew out his mouthful, not caring for respect. taking a glance at the other, another quick once over gave him all he needed to know. "another one of perseus' men, hm?" his words are laced with wisps of blue. "there's nothing to gain from talking with me. i'm sure you know enough about me and what i've done." the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lip, but he wasn't all that impressed. "did you just want to stroke your little ego 'chatting' with me?"

[ask-his-protege]

He wanted to roll his eyes, wanted to throw up into his mask before strangling this disgustingly smug asshole. As if he couldn't remember the one that has already fallen victim to his feral tendencies and his thirst for revenge. Taunting - that's what Vikhor would rather call this behavior.

Crossing his arms over his chest he kept quiet for a hot second, eyes focused on that little man hiding behind the facade of a fucked up CIA agent. Scars, the smell of cigarettes and these disgusting shades hiding every emotion that could flicker in those dead eyes. "Spare me the attempt to talk down on me. As if your words could stroke anything in anyone...maybe rage and disgust." How many times had he thought about that word until now? Disgust. The only emotion he could connect to the oh so feared Russell Adler.

He reached out, wanted to punch him right there, but he kept himself from violence. Instead he flicked the butt out from between his fingers. "Is your memory failing you already or is this you projecting your failed life? Back when we met the first time you seemed so sure of yourself, full and oh so confident. All I see now is the shell of what I hunted down. You're not even worth what I had initially planned out for you...a shame."

[r-adler]

there was a brief look of mild bemusement on adler's face, watching the other flick out the smouldering end of his smoke. turning over his now dying cigarette, he huffed and dipped down to stub out the rest of the embers on the heel of his shoe. adler let out a small grunt. "maybe it is, i am getting up there in age." he said, easing back up and rolling his shoulders back. he sighed with the small bit of relief that offered his stiff body. "or maybe it's the fact i have more than one person hunting me down now, kuzmin, not just you, or your men?" it was said more like a statement.

adler didn't bother with the bravado - there was no need for that, no person or project to string along anymore. despite the words said, there was still a quiet confidence to him, curated with such ego that a lick of it could be mistaken as shame. (the mention of failure stung, but he's been through worse enough to stomach and keep a solid poker face.) adler tugged his jacket on his sturdy frame, storing what's left of his cigarillo away in a small cigarette book and pocketing it.

"i'm sure that what you had planned for me was something grizzly, but i'm not wasting my time on a fellow puppet-master." he gave kuzmin a grimace of a false smile and tapped at his temple. "ah, but then again, that's just the 'numbers' talking, not me."

[r-adler]

I didn't expect to see you crawling around as well. Seems like you're losing the last few people that stood beside you. I'm not even surprised, anyone who keeps up with the type of person you are is either mentally unstable or probably at the verge of being broken by your suffocating presence.

Just another CIA dog getting what he deserves...isolation suits you well, Adler.

-@ask-his-protege

adler was perched outside a crumbling local bar in burgas. the new moon blotted out the dark alleys, and the dull hum of a small town nightlife filled the silence. he caught ear of heavy footfalls above the drone.

his well loved and cared for leather jacket crackling as he turned to the new body, hardly visible in the single light over his head. the aging blonde hummed, rocking his cigarillo between his index and thumb, rolling it back and forth in idle thought. words were said and heard, but it wasn't anything unheard of before - adler's heard it all at this point of his bitter life. he looked the other over, through a thick miasma of expensive, luxurious smoke. adler chuffed out a single, dull laugh.

"i don't even know who you are." he puffed at his smoke and turned his hand to watch the smouldering embers at the butt. adler blew out his mouthful, not caring for respect. taking a glance at the other, another quick once over gave him all he needed to know. "another one of perseus' men, hm?" his words are laced with wisps of blue. "there's nothing to gain from talking with me. i'm sure you know enough about me and what i've done." the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lip, but he wasn't all that impressed. "did you just want to stroke your little ego 'chatting' with me?"

[ask-americas-monster]

OOC: Addressing the elefant in the room

We're all here to have fun and forget the hardships of our reality, have fun with each other and write out the characters we came to love. Fleeing into fiction for a few hours to lift our spirits. We are only people behind the blogs, people that are nothing like these characters. See, the reason for this post is a very important one. There has been an incident recently that showed me (and the people my blog is connected with) that some of the users of Tumblr seem to forget that we are not the characters we play. I get that some of you really want to go out of your way to get a conversation with these fictional characters and we're all here for that. I'm not even going to address the people that are really crossing a lot of boundaries here (you guys are a different breed, you know who I'm talking about) but I really want to remind the others of something.

This is fiction, not the reality. Any regarding topics that may be triggering some past-traumas or other mentally hurting things can easily be skipped by avoiding certain messages or blogs. We are not the fictional figures we are writing. Learn to tell fiction and reality apart.

We always welcome new people that want to join our RP and we really love every OC that you guys create. But please remember that this is not what we actually stand for. For example: I do love to write for Adler but I do not, in any way, condone his actions. We are still people behind these blogs, some of them even minors. Be mindful and respectful.

[r-adler]

you use ridiculous copious amounts of hair gel every day and that’s why your ex wife divorced you was because you spent too much on hair gel

"that was the straw that broke the camel's back, huh? guess i should cut back on spending on myself if i want a wife in the future... "ha! fuck that! i'm happy being single."

[tw: abuse]

russ can still see her face, the fury in her eyes; his skin still on the hot cast iron in her hand. russ didn't even scream. he just stood there, burning and bleeding. he was obviously in the wrong if she had to go that far.

yeah, she would call him a baby killer, but it made sense, russ went to vietnam - he did unspeakable things; her miscarriage was karma for that.

he was an asshole for pretend to sleep every time she got home late. yes, if he did stay up, they'd argue, and yeah, her words were vicious, but critique was important; he needed to be a good husband, he needed to hear her out.

russ used to flinch when she'd put her hand on his shoulders - but that's just vietnam getting to him.

she did hit him, but it was his fault, not her's. he deserved it.

she did say he was "a monster." now he definitely earned that title at this point. no point trying to change.

[ask-woods]

Alright, Easter’s coming up, and I gotta do something with all you shitheads.

We’re having an Easter party at the Rook, 1600 this Sunday. Everyone’s invited, when I say everyone, I fuckin’ mean everyone.

Some ground rules;

1. Everyone brings their own dish. I don’t care what the hell it is, as long as it’s edible and not poisoned.

2. If you fight anybody, I’ll laugh at you if you lose, and kick you out if you win. No buts, no cuts, no coconuts. No killing anyone, either. Save that for after the party.

3. I don’t give a shit if you bring weapons, just keep it to a pistol or knife, no explosives, full or semi-autos, you get the deal. I’d rather my house not be turned into a fucking battleground.

We’ll eat, then have an Easter egg hunt for whoever wants to join outside. Golden egg has a quarter in it, the rest are either grenades or candy, forgot what I shoved in that shit.

[r-adler]

"...i'll just bring drinks."

[coastalcapricorn]

Anonymously tell me your assumpmtions about me and I'll confirm or deny them.

[bootifullyme-deactivated2018080]

!!!

[r-adler]

[when your soon to be enemy-to-lover and boyfriend gets mentioned by name, but you aren't out yet]

[ghost-bell]

Holding Adler's ducklings hostage because my therapist never said anything about it

@ask-americas-monster

[r-adler]

"i know this is rich coming from me of all people, but most of them are civvies or hors de combat, bell. it should be obvious to not go for them - or should i hit you with another dose of lsd?"

[ghost-bell]

I highly doubt that I gave thoses ugly ass ducks a bath and they looks like drowned rats they can't fight if they're life depended on it that's why your their mother duck isn't it?

[r-adler]

"what's the point of killing something that can't fight back, hm? does it give you the same kick hopping you up on lies did? because if it did, then you are no better than me.

"throwing a temper tantrum like this isn't going to magically fix you. so call off this bullshit or be a monster with me.

"it's your choice."

[ghost-bell]

.......fuck you Adler you can have your stupid kids back I also got them all burger town

[r-adler]

"good."

[ghost-bell]

Holding Adler's ducklings hostage because my therapist never said anything about it

@ask-americas-monster

[r-adler]

"i know this is rich coming from me of all people, but most of them are civvies or hors de combat, bell. it should be obvious to not go for them - or should i hit you with another dose of lsd?"

[ghost-bell]

I highly doubt that I gave thoses ugly ass ducks a bath and they looks like drowned rats they can't fight if they're life depended on it that's why your their mother duck isn't it?

[r-adler]

"what's the point of killing something that can't fight back, hm? does it give you the same kick hopping you up on lies did? because if it did, then you are no better than me.

"throwing a temper tantrum like this isn't going to magically fix you. so call off this bullshit or be a monster with me.

"it's your choice."

[ghost-bell]

Holding Adler's ducklings hostage because my therapist never said anything about it

@ask-americas-monster

[r-adler]

"i know this is rich coming from me of all people, but most of them are civvies or hors de combat, bell. it should be obvious to not go for them - or should i hit you with another dose of lsd?"

[ask-americas-monster]

So, you're really going to push those little ducklings of yours away?

-@ask-dianakustov

Ya guys are eating away at my salary at this point.

[ask-dianakustov]

You know they aren't all that bad. The "Dadler" title has a little ring to it, no?

[ask-americas-monster]

I just don't understand what it is ya guys see in callin me Dadler. I'm the worst person to be called dad.

[r-adler]

"i second that notion."

[ask-americas-monster]

So in every universe we're actually the worst father, at least we're consistent.

[r-adler]

"it's honestly real fucking surprising that we got what we got. they stuck d████ with me in this one, and you got the ducklings; jesus christ, we really shouldn't be fathers."