#camouflagefighter

[battle-scarred-raven]

This song's Chorus sings Hell

Chorus.

Though, she might as well call it Hell because that's pretty much where she ended up crashing.

She was supposed to retire after this last contract; instead she was injured, running and marooned in the middle of nowhere on a planet in the middle of nowhere.

And none of the natives seemed to like her. At all.

At least California had managed to lose the latest bunch of soldiers hounding after her for now, but she knew she was on her last legs. Quite literally, in fact, for one of the last lot of soldiers had managed to get a lucky round in her left ankle.

Just... a little... further...!

The ex-freelancer was really pushing herself, practically dragging herself forward by this point. Up ahead of her, the jungle parted and there seemed to be some sort of old, abandoned looking camp.

"Darrow, any movement?" California asked her AI.

"Nothing on motion trackers." Her AI hummed in the back of her mind. "Administering final reserves of biofoam."

The numbing effect on her injured ankle was almost immediate, and California's legs finally gave way as she collapsed in the dirt, exhausted. Ever defiant, she tried crawling forward, but to no avail.

Well. Great. This is it Dallas; this is how you die.

That was her last conscious thought before blacking out.

[handbinxculars]

camouflage-fighter replied to your post: //help me my brother is singing rap i ...

Run, run far away}

//i can't escape because he's in my room

that's the opposite of what i want to do.//

[notafighterjet]

camouflage-fighter replied to your photo:Presented without comment

{WHY. WOULD YOU POST IT.}

why wouldn't I?

[notafighterjet]

Have some feels, fuckers.

[notafighterjet]

Krak. Krak. Krak.

The shots rang out in a sharp staccato as Tucker trained his sights on one target after the other. It was an effective way to work off his anger he found, so he indulged more often than was probably healthy. But that was certainly better than actually taking it out on the target of his aggression, surely.

Krak.

He could see those eyes burning, green and piercing, in a rage he could only barely understand. She didn't care about him. She didn't respect him. She didn't trust him. She hated him and he had no idea why, all he knew was that it hurt way more than he'd thought originally.

Kzash.

He ignited the sword and deposited the rifle on his back, proceeding forward and spearing a target before pulling out and swiveling, sliving through another entirely. He switched hands and spun, swinging it through yet another, becoming a dancing whirlwind of blade strikes and anger.

"Ffffff... FUUUUUUUUUCK!"

[notafighterjet]

"Watch went fine last night. I told you."

[lxnewoxf]

"Can only wonder how that'll go."

[goodsxldier]

      "Evening, beautiful."