Bro Strider (
brotimaeus) wrote in
thoughtformed2012-12-14 01:24 am
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Entry tags:
[Because zombies & amnesia? Yes pls]
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT.
[For a short while, that text is the only communication from him, then a few minutes later, his voice can be heard over the network. He's running, breathing hard, and muttering a litany of curses under his breath in a Texan drawl.]
Fuck shit motherfuckin' fuck. Fucker tried to bite me, what kind of..
[He trails off, panting for breath, and there's a soft sound that would, to anyone familiar with it and still possessing their memory to recall said familiarity, would sound like steel scraping gently over stone. Bro's not had the best of days so far. After waking up somewhere he didn't recognise, suddenly realising he had no idea of even who he was, the icing on the mindfuck cake that had been his morning had been being suddenly assaulted by a shuffling braindead motherfucker who seemed to want to bite his arm off.
Then, there's the sword. He has it, but he doesn't know where it came from.
What alarms him more, is that somehow, he knows how to use it. The hilt fits in his hand as if it was made for it and his muscles had acted as if on instinct. The next thing he knew, the undead creature's head had been rolling away and he'd almost been throwing up as the stench of decay had invaded every sense it could.]
What the hell is goin' on. What are they.. Haha, shit.. I ain't even sure if anyone's listening.. Oh my God..
[For a short while, that text is the only communication from him, then a few minutes later, his voice can be heard over the network. He's running, breathing hard, and muttering a litany of curses under his breath in a Texan drawl.]
Fuck shit motherfuckin' fuck. Fucker tried to bite me, what kind of..
[He trails off, panting for breath, and there's a soft sound that would, to anyone familiar with it and still possessing their memory to recall said familiarity, would sound like steel scraping gently over stone. Bro's not had the best of days so far. After waking up somewhere he didn't recognise, suddenly realising he had no idea of even who he was, the icing on the mindfuck cake that had been his morning had been being suddenly assaulted by a shuffling braindead motherfucker who seemed to want to bite his arm off.
Then, there's the sword. He has it, but he doesn't know where it came from.
What alarms him more, is that somehow, he knows how to use it. The hilt fits in his hand as if it was made for it and his muscles had acted as if on instinct. The next thing he knew, the undead creature's head had been rolling away and he'd almost been throwing up as the stench of decay had invaded every sense it could.]
What the hell is goin' on. What are they.. Haha, shit.. I ain't even sure if anyone's listening.. Oh my God..
[Audio]
[Audio]
[Bro. Stop.]
[Audio]
I don't even have my memories and I'm still pretty sure I'm not the least bit impressed by that incredibly lame pick-up line.
[Anita. Stop.]
[Audio]
[Both of you, just stop.]
[Audio]
[Still, there might be a smirk behind her voice.]
Don't try so hard.
[Audio]
I'll be sure to keep that in mind.
[Pause.]
But back to the situation at hand.. you got a map or somethin'? 'Cause I have no fuckin' idea where I am.
[Audio]
[Audio]
[Pause.]
I guess I'd be lookin' for someone who can fill in the significant blanks.
[Audio]