Alona is in the woods, smoking. When she heard twigs getting crushed, she assumed it’s either footsteps or monsters. She turned around, the cigarette still in her hand. She then jumped a little seeing who it was, “Jesus, you startled me.”
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Alona is in the woods, smoking. When she heard twigs getting crushed, she assumed it’s either footsteps or monsters. She turned around, the cigarette still in her hand. She then jumped a little seeing who it was, “Jesus, you startled me.”
Open RP
Bastille-07 was due for a relaxing night for once. The patrols weren't horrible, but he was still recovering from a few injuries from previous missions. He sat himself down on one of the lounging couches in the bar of the Tower and watched as Guardians drank and danced in front of him.
“So how are all my humble subjects today?” She holds her hand out for it to be kissed.
Jo had her eyes set off somewhere far away as she licked on her ice cream, wanting to be in a place with Olivia. Olivia; the mere thought of her sent her into light yet frequent fits. She couldn't really think of anything else but her.
He is climbing on the climbing wall, and his hand slips and he falls off to the ground. He groans in pain and stands up after a good minute of staying in the ground, when he sees someone looking at him he gives them a good shrug. “It was a good fall.”
Tanya watched someone struggle with something, holding back an eye roll. She fought the urge to walk away and let the suffer through it but went over to them, despite the voice in the back of her head telling her to turn back. “Can I help you out with that?” she asked with a smile.
If Stella ever met the person who designed this camp she was going to yell at them. Once again she was lost and about five seconds away from stamping her foot in frustration. “Ugh.” She groaned.
Cora doesn’t typically get this drunk, in fact she hardly drinks at all. But that just makes her a light weight so even if she didn’t drink that much she drank something harder than she usually does. Now she’s drunk raiding the fridge. “Ice cream! Oh, not the good kind....”