"Bang"

He was as dangerous as the dark                                                   on the deepest night of winter

Chocolate Peanut Butter and Jam Ice Cream Cups Source: The Artful Desperado

Where food lovers unite.

“….What the hell is a woolong…?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at that, that was  an odd as balls name for currency “Well sorry you can’t turn me in for a lot of…woolongs…?” Sounded like a noodle,  I’ll have  the woolong noodles with a side of rice.

“What do you mean –––o h. Sorry. Fancy name for money, know what I mean? It’s alright though, I’ll survive. We’ll catch him eventually. I bet one of my other teammates is still out there trying to find this guy too. I just hope I find him before she does. A beast of a woman like her keeps all the bounty to herself. ” 

ALRIGHTY, SO. HERE’S HOW TO ROLEPLAY WITH THIS NEW UPDATE.

Keep reading

(via understudier)

Though time away from work was usually spent with friends, even tacticians like Quatre couldn’t account for days when they would be tending to their own obligations. Which was fine, he understood they had lives. It just opened opportunities to relax and try his own things. 

Like today, he’d intended to take a walk through the park, and maybe pick up some coffee and stop by a bookstore or something.

Of course, this plan also didn’t work out.

Quatre double takes when he finds the grown man on the bench, having what appears to be a fit of sorts. While finding drunken hobos snoozing in the park wasn’t entirely uncommon, Quatre didn’t turn a blind eye like others would. Though this person didn’t look all that homeless… maybe drunk? He wouldn’t know, truthfully. All he knew was he wanted to ensure their safety.

The boy strays from his path to approach the older male with apprehension, not wanting to be a bother but also not wanting to walk away while they struggled. He held his hand out, intending to give his shoulder a careful shake– but was stopped by them jerking themselves up and calling for… Julia? Who– 

The pilot glanced around for any woman that may be accompanying him but found that the park was mostly vacant, save for a few supervised children running about. A few even stopped in their game to stare at the man on the bench who‘d just called out. Quatre returned his attention to the stranger, holding his hands up to show meant no harm. “I’m sorry!” He was quick to blurt. “You seemed… like you were having trouble… Are… are you okay, Mister?”

Still caught in a slightly sleepy stage of fraught, Spike took a moment to gather some composure, taking deep breaths, while letting reality completely settle in around him before running a hand swiftly through his disheveled hair. On an open sigh, laced with a whisper of suffering, he shook his head in disappointment. 

Of course what he had inwardly hoped, ended up being the exact opposite. Knowing he’d called out in his sleep wasn’t exactly comforting, but he wasn’t altogether embarrassed, and it wasn’t like he generally cared what people thought. Still, he wished he hadn’t, considering how personal the dream truly was. 

Dropping his hand down against the wooden bench, he looked up into the face of the stranger who was addressing him with such genuine concern. It was just a kid, and the bounty hunter offered a smile, replacing his doleful expression. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” Spike told the figure, hoping he sounded convincing enough to deter the punk from asking any questions about the nightmare.“Just a dream. Although, I can honestly say it’s been a while since I’ve had one like that.” 

“Your concern’s endearing honestly. To think you’d check up on little old me. I don’t think there are many people in this world who would stop to check on a complete stranger after waking the way I did.”  Reaching into his pocket, Spike grabbed his pack of coffin nails, and lighter. A little puff of repose from a cigarette was exactly what the doctor ordered right now.

“You must be a little knight in shining armor, hmm?” Lighting one up, he inhaled, letting the smoke glide down before exhaling it out through his nostrils. “I can see it, you must help old women cross the street and stuff.” 

The bounty hunter laughed breathlessly, it wasn’t that he was trying to pick on the the other in a negative manner, just provide some raillery. Hell knew he needed some amusement to distract his mind right now. 

studio killers // eros and apollo