Most of us here have absolutely ****** taste.
You're just gonna head home if you can find it. You don't have the amazing sense of direction most people would assume from your job. In fact you're pretty much terrible with maps and directions. One time you had a target in Seattle and you ended up in D.C. Yeah, sometimes these things happen. Even in this city that you've been living in for a number of months is seeming pretty unfamiliar right now. Well, it's not like you'll be here much longer. You're going to be abroad on that job soon if everything goes to plan. (Selfnote: Write this all down somewhere.) You're well sure you're lost now. You've been walking for at least half an hour and you don't know where you are and you haven't walked past this area today. It's a slightly more upscale looking side of town. For all you know it could be a minute or two from your place. You decide to... [] Keep walking. [] Knock on a door.
Four gigabytes is not truly sufficient for multitasking.
I actually thought Ultimo and Heroman were kind of letdowns.
I usually attribute Oda's success to Tokuhiro or whoever it was he learned his style from. Though, yeah, he did kind of get his start after Kenshin if I think about it.
You haven't used it in forever, who really cares?
We already have a member referred to as GS. His original username, Guardian Soul, is the reason. When KS, Keyblade_Spirit, changed his name to Genocider Shou, we had a conversation about the confusion that could arise. Not two weeks in the future I see someone using GS to refer to KS even though GS has returned to being GS.
I guess they were right.
I gave someone my humble bundle copy of Bastion.
I almost put Araki, because I fucking love JoJo. I had some trouble picking it up on the first try but after trying Steel Ball Run I was willing to go back and take a look at Phantom Blood. Probably the best decision of 2012 for me. But in the end I like Watsuki better. He's a much more accessible artist and he does his own writing. He's also responsible for not only Kenshin, but Busou Renkin and Embalming. So he's got three series I really like, started the career of another artist on this list and has never done a neverending shounen. I think he deserves it.
Username: Jiku Neon Doll's Name: Akkiza Doll: Spoiler
The pants get rejected and the phones dies. Welp, that's it for today. All that work and effort and no payout. Well, you've got baghead's offer on the table. So you need to get home and gather yourself up for tomorrow. Tomorrow you're not gonna wear this ****** nun outfit either. You're gonna wear something much more fabulous and awesome. That'll make you feel better. Finding a guy would make you feel better too. Well, you don't like recycling much but you could return Travis' phone and just stay there for a bit. No, that's the opposite of what you should do. You should... [] Find your way home. [] Find a hotel. [] Wander the streets.
You have one wish. There are no monkey paw, "be careful how you wish for it" style catches, but the granter of the wish has some power constraints. You don't know what the constraints are exactly, but they claim that the wish can be anything and that only some form of nominal compensation is expected on your part. What do you wish for under these circumstances?
You click on the chest. Nothing happens. You double click on the chest. Nothing happens. You look for a menu. Nothing happens. That's when it occurs to you, you're about out of batteries again and you don't know a damn thing about how this program works. You keep pressing buttons to no avail. This can't really be how this day ends. You can't just have been through all that for nothing. It's absolutely ridiculous. It's a travesty, an atrocity, a very very bad thing in general. Your finger slips across the screen and a password entry prompt appears. It's five empty spaces for you to fill and the keyboard that appears is all caps and numbers. What do you input?
You're not a calm person. You seem it because the world is usually doing everything your way. Bullets just go where you want them too. Men just say what you want them to. Even the weather is usually in pretty keen accordance with your mood. But today everything has been going sideways and you don't like it. Not one bit. So decide to hightail it out of there once the Americans have left. You thank the boys and say that something has just come up, you flash the blank face of the phone and tell them that you'll be back to give them a proper thank you. They seem a bit puzzled, but it's nothing too bad. So you ask if the back's locked. It's not. Good. You buy some clothes and go out the front. If they're really agents and they really knew you were there, they'd stake the back out. Well, maybe not, but that's why you changed your clothes and hid your hair. Can't do much about your height and build, but it's better than nothing. You decide to start walking back where you came from to throw them off if they're following you. It's riskier but if you just wait, they'll have time to do stuff while you're stuck doing nothing. They'll value you to death on that deal, so time to lose 'em. After walking around for about an hour you think they're gone. If they were ever following you. To be sure you take a seat at a cafe and order afternoon tea. It gives you a chance to look around and determine what may be happening. You spend about twenty minutes there with your tea and crumpets. Yes, you ordered tea and crumpets just for them. Bloody Americans. You're fine as far as you can see and you can see pretty far. So you look at the phone again. The arrows are back. Good. You follow them for a good long while. It's early evening before you find the geotag. There's a cybernote there in the form of a little treasure chest, like pirates had. You should... [] Open it. [] Be the pantsu.
You'd feel a little more comfortable if you hadn't been relieved of your firearm last night, but let's be honest you suck with pistols anyways. You check for mirrors though. You can sort of see the person in the reflection from a glass display case. Female, blonde, tall. Following her is a male, can't tell much else about him. You heard them speak. American. At least the chick is. She has a very nice voice. She's probably a total bitch. She's asking about something. You hope it's not you. You're not exactly on good terms with the Americans. You listen in as best you can without being visible or audible. She's saying that she's a tourist and that she got lost with her husband. Yeah, fat chance of that. They're looking to meet someone, they describe her like you. Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit. They're looking for you. The boys at the counter say they don't know where to look for someone like that. The woman says she lives around here somewhere but they don't have an address. The boys insist that they've never met you. Good boys. You'll make sure you take extra care with them. The woman sighs and starts to leave. Her "husband" whispers something to her as they leave. Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit.Shit. They know you're around. They might have even seen you. Your phone still has only about half charge. What do you do?
You've already planted enough seeds with these two. If you're not going to do anything with them today you might as well borrow the kids' laptop and mess around with it. You play some Enraged Avians and Kanuck-a-Crash! for a while. It's really not that interesting playing ballistic games when you have a naturally perfect sense of these things. Once you've got a basic grasp of the simplifications they've made to physics it just seems like a hugely pointless and utterly predictable grind. You frown at the prospect and check your e-mail. Nothing new. You log off and close the browser. You don't want to be a needy looking idiot, but you have no idea what else to do with this thing and barely half an hour has passed. You suddenly realize that you have the internet at your fingertips and start browsing wikipedia. Auks are apparently really awkward birds. A wing is something called an "airfoil." The Germans killed a bunch of test pilots with their prototype V2 planes. Hitler. Okay. Genetically modified crops are really controversial. Genetics started with Mendel's peas. Eugenics were more widespread than you'd think. Hitler. Wow. You just random'd Hitler, from Hitler. That must be some kind of record. Another half hour of this. Thorsen Tech pops up. You remember baghead saying something about this guy. The one who tried to hire you was from him. You look at Chris Thorsen himself. He's got a kind of George Clooney kind of appeal. You would, but you wouldn't act like it was anything special. Just not your thing. Apparently, wiki loves him. They have basically painted this wanker up as some king of greatness and saint of kindness. You know better though, he's just another death merchant as far as your concerned. He tries to shape developing countries through force and profits on everything. He sells the weapons to the revolutionaries and the incumbents and when the butcher's bill is in he patches them up for round two. What a prick. Someone just walked in. You're behind the counter where no one can see you. You should... [] Take a look. [] Keep your head down.
Black sweater or purple sweater?
Well, you've been doing pretty well with staying on task today. You're not going to mess it up, sometimes it's tough being so fabulous. Well, you can set this one up for later. You start chatting casually. He seems a little awk at first but warms up quickly. He's trying to become a professional curling player, apparently. It's a sport that involves pushing a rock over ice... Okay. You don't need to worry about his interests. As long as he's not premature, you're basically willing to make it work. As he's describing the weird shuffleboard-esque scoring system his friend walks in. His friend is much prettier than him. (Selfnote: Tap this resource at a later time.) He does in fact not have the charger in question. Brilliant. Just fantastic. He tells you that you don't need that though. You don't what? You can just plug it into a computer with a normal micro USB he says. Whatever that is. He has one and he'll show you. Ooh. Nonsarcastic fantastic. So it'll take another hour or two before your phone is good to go. There's a laptop in front of you and cute boys to either side. It's almost noon. What do you do?
