Never seen one.
Actually, fortune cookies are Japanese.
While the money in the case may have someone else's name on it, you've got a credit card with no limit and a desire to wear some schoolgirl's panties on your head. First stop? Red light. You take some time to look around before you find one that looks right. About 5'4", probably high school age and with an older man hanging around her like a disgusting little fly. You stride on up, looking the part of the kind gentleman stranger and convince the man to leave without much trouble. The girl thanks you profusely. You want to grin. You want so much to betray your intentions to her, you want nothing better than to let her know that you're about to make her wish she'd just put up with the dirty old man for a bit longer. But you don't, because she'd run and that wouldn't be fun. You instead pull out your wallet and gracefully produce 100,000 yen. Her eyes widen. Yes, this is for you, dummy. You then lean in and tell her, "Drop your pants." Not ten minutes later you're flying down the highway on a motorcycle you found in an alley with a still warm pair of panties on your head instead of a helmet. Next stop? Tokyo? Osaka? Who even cares? This is what you call a vacation. You're actually supposed to be on a plane to India in like four hours according to your contract but you can make it there without taking any handouts. You might be small time compared to whoever that guy behind the desk was but he'd have a rough time finding anyone else who could do the the work he's asking you to. Enough about work though. You hate thinking about work when you're feeling good. So you take the next exit and speed a bunch of miles until you start getting into some creepy ass wooded back roads. Like Deliverance country, but with more cute girls. Out of gas. Well, that was fun while it lasted. You don't know where to go and there's a single roadway through the woods. You should... [] Turn back. [] Keep going. [] Go hiking.
Spoiler: What's this? Click on it. Go on. Do it. Going to go around the wheel clockwise. If anyone has any requests for appearances go for it, otherwise just using the avatar.
I remember this...
It's late. You're not one for sleep anyway. You're one for action and in this case action means following the guys with the guns and head bag. You're aware that this is hardly considered a dignified entrance, but it's not a part of your line of work to care much for dignity. You've never been in a fight and you've never had an ounce of blood on your hands, not even your own. It's a good clean feeling being a broker for keeping people alive rather than killing them. You've met the boors and clods that make up the body of the workforce and the nuts that make up the head. But when it all comes down to it, you've got plausible deniability and they've got the weapon they fired in a big old case in their safehouse or basement or whatever. You can hardly help but laugh at the futility of it all. When the lights come back on and the scent of sweat and hemp is out of your face you find yourself in a very lavish office. Upscale, clean and above all other things, pricey. It must have cost a fortune to have this place decorated. Your entire career couldn't pay for the drapes and you get paid a lot to do what you do. Some say that you're the best. "What is it that you do?", the camera may ask if it were indeed watching as the ever present eye that you imagine it to be. Well that's simple, you're a hostage negotiator. But that's a temporary gig. Your real deal is closing. You were a used car salesman at one point and a CEO at another. Nothing ever sticks because it's all too easy. You need something with a little more zazz, like that desk. Teak or mahogany? Porque no los dos? Or those floors, or the chair that you're in? Oh, you could die here happy. Anyhow, the guy at the top of the operation has been talking for the past while and you've been kind of listening. What you've got so far is that you're being kidnapped to do a job of some sort, easy. This is the kind of thing you live for. You tell him to get it in writing and get a fountain pen. He slides a contract across the desk to you and you flip through it. Eidetic memory is something that a lot of people claim to have, you call it bull. You trained for years to pick up on how to read quickly and memorize things and you still need to try to make it seem natural. When that fails you just rely on guts. It's a gamble but you've never gone down in Vegas. You wonder what country you're in for a second before remembering transport back to Kyoto should come courtesy of the head baggers. Even if i isn't she wasn't that pretty anyway. You sign and slide the papers back across and ask for a clean bag this time. Back in Japan you're carrying a case with nearly a million dollars in it with someone else's name on it. What a shame. You should... [] Spending spreeeeeeeeeeee~ [] Head to the addressed location. [] Buy some pantsu.
Why is there not more of this thread?
I had a pair of sony's that I sent through the washer and dryer twice over their lifetime without consequence. They lasted 4 years and are no longer made. The closest successor would be these, but I have been using a pair of Beats my uncle gave me since so I can't really recommend anything.
It seems she wasn't going to kill you after all. No guarantees, but she's looking less and less dangerous by the minutes. She asks you if this is the right town. You say it is and then she begins walking forward again. You couldn't tell over the sounds of the forest and the attention you paid to followers in the forests but she's really sounding bad. You don't imagine that you're too great a sight either but you've seen that look on dead people. You sigh and walk ahead of her. Your leg is throbbing again but you're not too worried about it. You've had worse probably. You ask her to stop for a second. She does and asks what the hold up is. You tell her that she's earned a break and you know just the place for it. You adjust the rifle and take a knee. You can only imagine the expression she makes when you tell her to climb on. You think it's somewhere between "get a load of this kid" and "please let me kill him" until you feel her weight on your shoulders and her voice in your ear. Thanks. In a few minutes your leg is killing you and you're sitting next to Miss Spetznaz in the back seat of what is probably a WW2 era Jeep running on the souls of lost children. You can't really say that you think you're safe yet, but you're not visible and she really is cuter while she's sleeping. Up front is the guy who hired you to take out the drug cartel initially. He was willing to take you guys as far as the train stop you left yesterday and no further. It wasn't ideal, ideally you'd just keep heading out of the country and hit up a medical practice on the way through Kazakhstan. It's fine though. There's never an ideal getaway though. As things are, you're pretty pleased with your results thus far. You've got some time to kill. You... [] Do the time warp again. [] Be the other guy.
Wrong. The point is to share videos. The change of layout doesn't take it away but it IMPEDES it. You should never make something harder than it has to be. Doing so is what's called stupid and inefficient. So youtube is being stupid and inefficient.
You were trying to avoid talking about why you're a mercenary. You were trying to be the good soldier and think of the group for a change. You were trying to get everyone out of this alive. So you shut your mouth and get back to it. You tell her to keep going straight north while you leave to set some new tracks. She nods. You're never more than a few hundred feet from her, but you're worried now. She wasn't lying when she said she might be cracking and leaving someone like that alone too long... You rush back over to her as fast as you can without messing up your tracks. She looks pretty much the same when you walk up and announce your presence. She nods and keeps going. You'll be at the town in another half an hour probably. There's not gonna be the need to split paths again. You remain behind her though, occasionally covering your tracks and checking to see that you've still got all your gear. Ten minutes left. A word hasn't passed between you for a while, you know she won't the the one to strike up a conversation and you don't really want to bleed any information to her that you don't need to. Looks like trusting people is still not your strong suit. Snow and Sour would be so fucking proud to see you walking behind her with you hand on your rifle thinking of ways to counter her turning and shooting at you. One sleeps with a gun and treats everyone else like their objects and one keeps more live explosives in his living quarters than a suicide bomber to keep everyone else out of his bag of clothes and live explosives. In all honesty, you wish you could see the world as simplistically. Hell, you'd be Leadfoot or Shotty before you'd be yourself. But that's not a choice you were given. You're at the town. Miss Spetznaz seems a bit ill. You... [] Tell her that she did well and deserves a rest. [] Tell her that you're not out the woods in anything but the literal sense. [] Princess carry. [] Stay silent.
Amaury is broken, nerf now.
You may not like letting her follow you to where the guns might be before being totally sure that she's not gonna kill you the second you're within sight of civilization but she's all you've got and leaving her alone would be even worse. So you take her to the shack with you and tell her to keep an eye out the windows while you look around. There's really not much there. A few boxes of bullets and a slightly damaged hunting rifle on the weapons side of things and some combat rations on the food side of things. It seems that everything else either got taken by some scavenger or decayed in the tropical heat. You don't bother checking for anything else and leave with the rifle over your should and the ammo in your vest pockets. It's better than nothing and you're in the business of working with what you've got. As you progress Miss Spetznaz asks you how far the town is, what it's like and if you'll be able to get medical treatment there. You say that it's still another two hours if you travel cautiously and no there won't be medical treatment straight away. They'll have a car though and you've got enough stuff to trade for a few hours with it. The town likes you for killing the drug runners but they're not sentimental folk and won't be above haggling with some injured strays. It's at this point that she asks you why you're a mercenary. That's a flag, like she's trying to justify killing/not killing you to herself. You tell her that it's a long and painful story and you don't like telling it. Besides, it'd be a distraction when caution is most important. She agrees and apologizes and says that she might be cracking a bit early. You tell her that she's been walking on a broken leg for a day and a half and taking orders from the guy who told her to betray her country, she's holding up fine all things considered. She says she's still going back to Russia if she gets out. You tell her that you'll respect that but you didn't work this hard just to let her sentence herself to death. She remains silent. You continue on to say that you once had a country, a home, a cause, but it's kind of irrelevant. Countries won't do anything for you in the end, they're just another group of people who want you for your job and not for who you are. If you want to please them, go ahead but if you want something more for yourself you need to get out of the petty regionalistic mindset and start thinking of the world at large. She doesn't seem to know how to respond. You should... [] Stop talking. [] Keep talking. [] ???
Blech. Fine. I would be sleeping too if not for the livestream I'm in, not gonna lie.
It's only 4 where you are, dude. You are the Florida guy, right?
Sleep is weak.
You weren't there to interfere.
Mine is a character I drew. Sfor-chan's is a character from Skull Girls.
Why?
