#ruinouss

[renoxvated]

Tick, tick, tick, tick—?! Roy clasped warm flesh against the cool metal of the clock beside him, slamming it against the wooden table. Rex doesn't tense up, used to The Courier's outbursts. Roy however was getting as restless as the Mojave itself. Like wind carrying the sand across the landscape, he just wanted to be free. Things would get like this sometimes, he would get like this sometimes, more often than he used to once the illusion of the glitz and glamor of the penthouse in the Lucky 38 wore off. After all, Roy was a roaming dog for the better part of his life and being little more than a kept guard dog now, well it sometimes ate away at his bones. Roy leans up from the couch he'd been lounging around restlessly on, Rex perking up from the floor finally. ❝Eh, easy boy ain't nothin' to get excited over, shits boooooringgggggg.❞ He huffs, Rex lets out a gruff before laying his head back down. Roy supposed his lack of much to do on the strip these days had been because of the securitrons, they accounted for most of the work needing to be done, unless House said otherwise and...that was fine with Roy. Right? When everything was going to hell in a handbasket around him, he wasn't very thrilled to be dragged into the Mojave's problems or the machinations of the powers that be on the strip...but now, his trigger finger twitches at the thought of something like back then. Knock, knock, knock, knock—?! ❝For fucks sake just open the door.❞ Roy barks, Rex sits up, sentinel as ever, a small deep huff escaping his muzzle. ❝Why I beg your pardon friend, you have a visitor. Says she knows you and now I didn't want some stranger rootin' around if you didn't know them pardner.❞ Viktor wheels himself into the penthouse room, cowboy face on the screen glowing. Roy used to find him unsettling, used to find most of the Robots unsettling, now he's just grown accustomed to them.

❝Says ya'll been in a couple of shootouts together like a couple of Texas Red's, that you'd know who she was. You got any clue on that friend, or should I round up the posse and get the big boss man?❞ Roy quirks up an eyebrow, furrowing them right after before a wild grin starts to splay it's way onto his face. Roy got in a lot of shootouts with folks, to be fair but...if it was who he thought it was, well then...❝Naw, Vic, I'll handle it. Keep Rex busy for a bit though, would ya'? I'll be back.❞

Roy rolls his shoulders, hopping up from the couch, his back felt stiff and it cracks when he gets up, heading towards the doorway. Rex gives a bark as he exits the room and heads to the elevator to go downstairs. It doesn't take him long to pass through the Casino and to the front.When his eyes set their sights on the women before him, he lets out a toothy grin before shaking his head.

❝Now if I didn't know any better I'd say this was the first time I was seein' ya' without the gunfire over our sorry asses.❞

@ruinouss

[dimensionalspades]

@ruinouss said: “I have missed this. The adventure. The danger. The kickin’ of butts!” (For Mythe)

- bg3 || accepting -

. "You mean you stopped for a bit?" He asked. He sheathed his blade, a hand moving to tug his hair out of the way as he hooked his shield in its place on his back. The thought seemed odd. Of course not everyone adventured every hour of the day- even he took his breaks. But it was never long. The allure of taking down beasts was never far.

"You seem so at home on the field." Short as their time together had been, he'd already begun to enjoy her presence quite a bit. Hard to find one that could match and exceed his energy in a fight, and he so appreciated her fire. "I'm sure we'll find more than our fair share of asses to kick on our way to Baldur's Gate."

[drummerdaines-a]

"Try to keep a sense of knowing who I am," There is a soft sigh that falls from their lips as they throw their head back. Finding out about their true parentage has been wild ride, especially for their metal state. They weren't great people - and Morgan is starting to wonder if that meant that meant them too. Are they like those who made them, or those who raised them. "I try to be an angel." Of course not realistically - but in the sense of be a good person and, can they be? If their parents were such horrible beings?

@ruinouss sc ; playing; exhale by sabrinacarpenter

[the-last-command]

20. favorite cryptid(s)?

As a kid, I was obsessed with The Loch Ness Monster. I remember checking out books from the library about Nessie. I would even visit websites back in the ye olden internet days to learn more about it.   

Personally, the idea of Nessie being a dinosaur ( a plesiosaur ) excited my imagination. I remember even wanting to visit Scotland, so I can go to Loch Ness and search for Nessie.

 Another Cryptid would be Bigfoot. I actually lived around some areas where Bigfoot was said to be spotted. Again, I would check out books regarding Bigfoot. I would like to think that Bigfoot does exists. That North America was home to such strange and fascinating primates.

Oh, then there’s Mothman. I remember reading about Mothman way back, after my uncle gave me a book about supernatural phenomena. I’ve always theorized with my brother what Mothman could be. TBH they could be anything. Hell, perhaps they are some sort of thought form, dreamed up by the peoples of Appalachia.

[onepiecc]

@ruinouss ~liked for a starter~

"Now are you supposed to be my watcher this time?" Leigh was reckless as he fell into the ocean and then got saved by a passing ship which turned out to be outlaws. The man knew they were not pirates because there was no Jolly Roger nor a clear sign or someone in charge. They had decided to tie the man up to the mast before deciding what to do with him.

[fantasmalforces]

@ruinouss​ SAID: "i mean, a murderer probably lives in the building." @ Rayn 

💜 Only Murders In the Building Prompts // ACCEPTING 💜

"If my instincts are right, then there sure is.” Any humor in the sentiment was lost on Rayn. She took her work very seriously - perhaps a bit too much so. But murder was something she could never afford to joke about. It was too serious. And too often, it led to a cascade of events that would so quickly unfold and spiral out of control - the single tip of a domino sending forth waves of unpredictable chaos. Too often, the crime went overlooked and under-contained. Especially by those most responsible for ensuring it was treated with the severity it beckoned. So much for authority.

“Stay close behind me. If this guy’s as rough as my investigation’s been implying, he’ll shoot before he thinks.” She nodded over her shoulder to Faye before pushing open the door to the seedy, second-rate motel their target was staying in. Over the front desk, a familiar face greeted Rayn and paled upon seeing her. She tilted her head, eyes wide. If the Beastwalker was here, it could only mean one thing. Upon receiving Rayn’s nod of confirmation, the little woman quickly made her way out through the backdoor of the place, leaving the two to meander down the tight, dimly lit, corridor of rooms. And audible growl could be heard rumbling in Rayn’s chest, a hand slipping under her trench coat to rest on the hand of her gun in its holster, ready to draw the weapon at a moment’s notice.

[ringonokami]

Death gods are prone to afflictions of mind, like any living being. It is quite ironic to be alive when you bring death, but it's not what bothers Ryuk on a daily basis. He is concerned about his future. Not about his life, of course, but an eternity lived the same way as always. Other gods live to the sound of clacking dice and their own apathetic voices. Here and there you can hear a rusty laugh. That's where it ends. Ryuk supposes it's the same for everyone, and even the King of Death Gods is not very thrilled to meet a new day. The old man's mind has deteriorated to the point Ryuk was able to trick him into giving him a second Death Note. What was Ryuk going to do with it? At first he didn't know, he did it for the sole purpose of enjoying own mischief. He's never played by the rules, and has earned a reputation of a weird guy among his ilk. Ryuk this, Ryuk that, why can't he ever calm down. He spent the next few days peering into the whirlwind of worlds and ages frothing and churning, spitting out dimensions where Ryuk was looking for a possible source of entertainment. He watched wars unfold, incredible monuments turn to dust. Just as usual. If not for the pause he made when it came to the world of humans. Those were the most amusing little creatures he knew, those naked monkeys, and an idea sprang up in his mind. He had humans, he had a spare Death Note. A divine instrument, how would it backfire in the human world? Giving the power of a god to a mortal never ended good, but it always ended up as quite the sight. The decision was made. Ryuk descends onto the land of sorrows in the dead of the night, flying under the furry bellies of storm clouds. He's heard city parks were the perfect set for a disaster. All kinds of stuff happened here, rape, murder, mugging. Ryuk has no doubt those willing to use a weapon like the ultimate killing device will be numerous. He's not in a hurry, though. Perching on a tree like an overgrown crow, he waits for something to happen. Nothing does, however, so Ryuk decides to speed up the process. He sees letters and digits dancing ovet the head of a passing man, a big guy who could easily be a killer himself. Scribbling "murder" opposite his name, Ryuk gives him just two minutes. And soon enough, a smaller shadow separates from the rustling mass of bushes and jumps the man. It all happens so fast Ryuk raises his brows. Okay. So this is whom he's summoned. She'll do. He pulls out the second Death Note and lets it flop on tye ground half a meter shy of her. Curiosity is a trait humans share with Ryuk, and so Faye - he's looking at her name now - snatches it from the ground. Ryuk gives her the time to read the rules, and, with a powerful swish of his wings, hops off the branch and lands weightlessly beside her. "Interesting, eh?"

@ruinouss

[carxinogens]

@ruinouss​ :  ❛ is that my shirt? ❜ @ the rat faced bastard

     He could hardly remember the previous night; the two had drifted off into whatever realms the shrooms sent them to. Perhaps they ate one too many; got too high and suddenly, he wakes up laying beneath the kitchen table. He feels nauseous- nothing a little more booze couldn’t cure. He had crawled out from under there, grabbed a half drunken beer bottle off the table and sipped from the room temperature beer as he headed up the stairs in search of Faye. And as expected, he had found her tucked away nice and cozy in his California king bed; it was always a habit of his to assure that he puts her into the bed before he crashes, even if she blacks out before him. She’d never wake up on the floor- he wouldn’t allow it. 

     His good morning was greeted with a question; the sleepy eyed woman asking if he was wearing her shirt and he glances down at himself only to realize that he was, in fact, wearing her shirt. It was far too small on him; fitted like a crop top revealing his tatted beer gut and a grin stretched across his face as a laugh escaped him. “Yeah- I guess it is.” he answered. His gaze returns to her and he lifts the hand holding the beer bottle and uses a finger to point at her. “And that’s my shirt- you done jacked my shit.” he joked. “How you gonna do me like that? Stole my shirt? My bed. Ain’t even gonna invite me into it either. You’re wrong for that, girl.” he said as he stepped towards the bed, lowered himself to sit on the edge of it and took another swig from the beer. “You gonna steal my shower next and not even let me jump in there with you?”