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Lost in a Haze; Thomas comes down from some drugs
Topic Started: Sep 27 2016, 12:51 PM (101 Views)
Mixtli
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Resident Canadian
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas staggered out of Hooked with the drug (purple mist) still coursing through his system. He felt incredible, but at the same time his vision kept flickering. He would blink furiously and sometimes when his eyes opened everything would be different. The only thing that looked the same was Elizabeth, and even then she was blurring around the edges. He looked at her intently. “Elizabeth I think this stuff is going to really fuck me up. I don’t know if you’ll be safe so I need you to lead me out of town where I can’t hurt anyone while I’m working my way out of this. Wait for me at Will’s cabin so I’ll know where to find you.”

Elizabeth frowned at Thomas. This fucking moron was high on whatever was in that pipe and he was trying to give her instructions? What an asshole! But she knew she couldn’t reason with him, so she agreed to do what he said. She grabbed him by the hand and marched him out of town while he kept his gaze firmly on the ground so he wouldn’t see any of the illusions that were increasing in frequency. She stopped a few minutes out of town. There were still some junkies around, but they weren’t within the city limits so whatever. Thomas probably wouldn’t remember hurting them so it was going to be fine. “Alright I’m out of here. There aren’t people around that I can see, but be careful in case someone tries to rob you out here.” And with that she lightly jogged back to the shack of the fuckstick that they’d hung earlier to wait for Thomas to come back.

Thomas Grey, level 5, Ranger Rep +10, BT Rep +118, Brick Rep +15
SPECIAL: 6, 7, 7, 4, 7, 6, 3
Equipment
Weaponry: Colt Army revolver, pocket revolver, 1x smoke/stun/baseball grenades.
Armor: Pack rat clothing, leather greaves, reinforced chaps.
Appearance: Caucasian. Tall, strong build, short thick curly brown hair. Dark eyes, a frown, and a cleanshaven face. Grey shirt with 3/4 sleeves and leather bracers. Jeans with reinforced leather chaps, and a tool belt.
Companion: Elizabeth Sharpe - 4, 8, 4, 3, 5, 10, 6 - Small stature, but makes up for it with knives, a crossbow, and attitude. Level 5. +5 BT Rep.
John Slater: SPECIAL 8(+1).4.10.5.5.4.5.
One bad hombre
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Mixtli
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Resident Canadian
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas waited for a few minutes before he opened his eyes. He had all but forgotten the conversation that he just had with Elizabeth, and instead he focused on the hellish nightmare that he found himself in. The sun looked like a bleeding hole of light in the sky, although it was still burning bright the rest of the sky looked… muted somehow. It was leaking what looked like black blood down to somewhere past the horizon. The buildings were still ruins and rubble, this was Bucket Town after all, but now they had bird-shaped shadows that seemed to be shimmering around the edges. When he looked down at his hands they still seemed normal, but there was a thin outline of light that made them look wrong somehow. The upswing in mood that he’d felt when he initially took the drug had worn off, and now he had to figure out how to survive the horrors that were surely waiting for him in the shadows.


He skittered from cover to cover with his head down. Peeking around the corner, he saw three monstrous figures. One was tall and thin, one was average height and fat, and one must have been only three feet tall. They were sitting around a campfire waiting for a can to heat up so they could eat whatever horrible concoction was sitting inside. He coughed, and the three mutants turned to face him. The short one approached with a distinct but definitely tiny swagger, and the tall one and fat one flanked him on either side. Shorty spoke, and curiously his voice was that of a normal albeit unhealthy individual. “Well well well what do we have here? He looks like another junkie that’s wandered off of the safe path and run into a spot of trouble.” He looked at his companions and they cackled appropriately on their cue to do so. Shorty continued. “What would you do if we told you we were going to add you to our soup like the other punks that have wandered our way?”

***
Bobby looked at Ryan and Gus as they laughed at his little joke. The three of them weren’t exactly the cream of the crop when it came to members of society, but junkies stealing from junkies was just part of the bargain when it came to living in and around Bucket Town. He could see that the big fella had some decent gear on him. Damn he still has a gun? And is that a metal hatchet? We’re going to get high for a week off of this shit! While Bobby would never kill someone this close to Bucket Town for fear that the big fucking Sheriff would get involved, he and his buddies would beat seven shades of shit out of this new guy to teach him the ropes and show him how it was done around town. He didn’t know what this fella was on, but for some reason the guy was staring right at his groin and it was making him uncomfortable.
***

Thomas looked at the short monstrosity as it cackled along with its companions. He knew that he had to get the drop on them before they rushed him and cut him up for soup. “I’d rather send you all to hell than let you eat me you fucking monstrosities!” And with that he drew his revolver and started blasting them to pieces.
Thomas Grey, level 5, Ranger Rep +10, BT Rep +118, Brick Rep +15
SPECIAL: 6, 7, 7, 4, 7, 6, 3
Equipment
Weaponry: Colt Army revolver, pocket revolver, 1x smoke/stun/baseball grenades.
Armor: Pack rat clothing, leather greaves, reinforced chaps.
Appearance: Caucasian. Tall, strong build, short thick curly brown hair. Dark eyes, a frown, and a cleanshaven face. Grey shirt with 3/4 sleeves and leather bracers. Jeans with reinforced leather chaps, and a tool belt.
Companion: Elizabeth Sharpe - 4, 8, 4, 3, 5, 10, 6 - Small stature, but makes up for it with knives, a crossbow, and attitude. Level 5. +5 BT Rep.
John Slater: SPECIAL 8(+1).4.10.5.5.4.5.
One bad hombre
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Mixtli
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Resident Canadian
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
***
Bobby blinked at the junkie as he shouted about monsters and Hell and he realized that whatever this guy was on, he wasn’t having a fun time, and with a gun and an axe he was probably more trouble than he was worth. Before he could diffuse the situation the batshit-crazy asshole slapped his gun with his right hand, pointed at them with that hand and starting making shooting noises. I think this fucking nut just tried to kill the three of us! Ok that’s it we’re going to teach this guy a lesson and I don’t care if he makes it or not. He looked at his stunned companions and jerked his head towards the idiot, who was staring in shock as his right hand as if wondering why his gun hadn’t worked. How hard can it be for the three of us to take out one crazy junkie? Even if he has a gun and whatever else he’s too far gone to use them. And he even has one arm tied up against his chest! This is going to be a piece of cake. Just as the three of them took a step forward, the madman started to jerk his left arm, the broken one, forward.

He tried to hit them with it uselessly for a few seconds, and the three undesirables were so stunned at his useless attacks that they stopped for a moment to take in the sight before they continued their advance. The man started yelling. “Why won’t you die? Are you mutants indestructible or something?” Bobby shook his head, almost feeling sorry for the chump. He pulled out his shank (he was proud of it, since he was the only one of the three not to pawn everything for drugs) and was getting ready to rush the fool when the man lashed out with his right hand and punched Bobby square in the nuts. Pain shot up from the fork of his legs to the roof of his skull, and Bobby dropped his little shiv and fell forward onto his stomach.
***

Thomas stared at his fist in awe. His hatchet had been held to his chest somehow, and they were impervious to bullets, but when all else had failed his fist had seemingly killed the monster in a single hit. All he had to do was punch him in the mouth and he collapsed into a shadow and faded into the blood-soaked earth. The other two mutants looked at him, their hideous expressions obscured by a thick layer of scabs, sores, blisters, and other assorted pustules, and as one they both turned and ran away.
Thomas Grey, level 5, Ranger Rep +10, BT Rep +118, Brick Rep +15
SPECIAL: 6, 7, 7, 4, 7, 6, 3
Equipment
Weaponry: Colt Army revolver, pocket revolver, 1x smoke/stun/baseball grenades.
Armor: Pack rat clothing, leather greaves, reinforced chaps.
Appearance: Caucasian. Tall, strong build, short thick curly brown hair. Dark eyes, a frown, and a cleanshaven face. Grey shirt with 3/4 sleeves and leather bracers. Jeans with reinforced leather chaps, and a tool belt.
Companion: Elizabeth Sharpe - 4, 8, 4, 3, 5, 10, 6 - Small stature, but makes up for it with knives, a crossbow, and attitude. Level 5. +5 BT Rep.
John Slater: SPECIAL 8(+1).4.10.5.5.4.5.
One bad hombre
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Mixtli
Member Avatar
Resident Canadian
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas shook his now glowing fist at them. “That’s right you sick freaks, run away!” He stopped to examine his surroundings again, and now only the shadowy birds were around to watch him. He occasionally glanced up at them as they stared unblinkingly down at him with beady blood-red eyes, and he scoured the little campsite for anything to scavenge. He cautiously prodded at the steaming can of horrid mush with a twig from the ground, but nothing rose from within to attack him so he put his nose a little closer and took a sniff. It may have looked like coagulated fecal matter that had crossed with a slimy creature from the bottom of an ocean long-forgotten by God and everyone else, but it smelled like a bunch of beans boiling in water with a splash of hooch for flavour. He picked up a spoon from the ground and wiped the blood and effluence from it, and with his hands safely in his leather gloves he quickly pulled the can from the embers and placed it on the ground to cool. He didn’t know if the food was safe or not, but he did know that he would need to keep his strength up while he was trapped in this waking nightmare.

***
Elsewhere, Elizabeth sat on the pile of rags that Will had called a bed. She was already bored of waiting for Thomas to finish his little adventure on whatever had been in that pipe, and she wanted something to do. I bet there is some decent stuff hidden in with the junkies around here. Maybe I should just go out there and find a little something special to pass the time? But the more she though about it the more she realized that she didn’t really want to do that. She felt bad for Thomas. He had just wanted to sell some of the drugs they’d gotten from that last job, and now he was out there somewhere on his own, probably terrified of everything.

She absently spun her knife in her hands, and then inspiration struck her. She would try to do something nice for Thomas so that he knew she appreciated what he was trying to teach her! She wouldn’t do something stupid like knit him a sweater or some shit, but he was bound to be starving when he came back from wherever he went so she decided to make him a meal. The only trouble was what she would make for him? She remembered that there had been a little weed-filled patch of dirt outside of the hut. She’d stomped all over it while they were waiting to get the drop on Will, but maybe there was something edible in there? She went outside and dug around in the dirt for what must have been half an hour. After the backbreaking labour,How the hell did that asshole manage to pick corn for hours with only one arm?, she had before her four miserable potatoes and a half-dozen stringy carrots.

Now all she needed was some clean water to cook them in, and a little meat to throw in with the veggies, and she had a decent meal going. She hid the vegetables under the rags that made up the bed, stashed her knife in her hoodie pocket, and set out to find a pot, some meat, and clean(-ish) water.
***

He may have had to eat the mystery food with his eyes closed, but it didn’t taste like anything and it smelled like food from the real world so he counted his blessings and didn’t complain. After finishing it all he kicked some dirt over the fire and set out to find his way back to reality. He felt like the numerous shadowy crows were starting to flicker a little bit in the corner of his vision, but he didn’t know what that could mean. He filled a little pouch with odds and ends that were half-buried in the bloody muck that made up the ground around here, and left the campsite behind him as he searched for something to help him escape this place.
Thomas Grey, level 5, Ranger Rep +10, BT Rep +118, Brick Rep +15
SPECIAL: 6, 7, 7, 4, 7, 6, 3
Equipment
Weaponry: Colt Army revolver, pocket revolver, 1x smoke/stun/baseball grenades.
Armor: Pack rat clothing, leather greaves, reinforced chaps.
Appearance: Caucasian. Tall, strong build, short thick curly brown hair. Dark eyes, a frown, and a cleanshaven face. Grey shirt with 3/4 sleeves and leather bracers. Jeans with reinforced leather chaps, and a tool belt.
Companion: Elizabeth Sharpe - 4, 8, 4, 3, 5, 10, 6 - Small stature, but makes up for it with knives, a crossbow, and attitude. Level 5. +5 BT Rep.
John Slater: SPECIAL 8(+1).4.10.5.5.4.5.
One bad hombre
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Mixtli
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Resident Canadian
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
In the distance there were monsters that seemed to stretch to the sky, but these horrific titans seemed unaware of the wanderings on a lone man caught in this terrifying abyss. He heard the rattling of chains from somewhere past one of the ruined buildings in front of him, and against his better judgement he pressed onwards to see what was making the ghastly sound. He walked into a sleight clearing, and in it there were a number of tents that made his breath catch in his throat and his heart freeze in his chest. These particular tents were made of sewn-together faces, and each face was apparently still alive seeing as how their pain-filled eyes all turned to look at him as soon as he was within their sight. The rattling of chains was caused by the flapping of suspiciously pale bloodied leather strips fluttering off of a chain suspended between two posts.

There were some voices coming from within the group of tents. They were human voices, but Thomas reminded himself that the last group of monsters he’d fought off had sounded human as well. His hearing was still sharp, and he could make out a number of different people whimpering in fear, and a man and a woman arguing with each other. If there’s fighting going on then maybe someone there is human after all! I’ve got to help them! He made his was past the grisly abodes, and in the middle there were a number of mutants kneeling with their hands on their heads as a tall and strongly-built figure argued with someone that Thomas couldn’t see because he was directly behind the big mutant and the other standing figure was obscured by the big one. Judging by their voices the big one was male and the hidden one was a woman, but that was all that he could determine. The big guy had a cloak made of shadows and short and flat horns coming out of the side of his hairless and misshapen head.

***
Lisa frantically looked around for someone to help. This slaving asshole had come in here and clapped the sick junkies in irons before she could do anything. He’d put a gun to her face and said that if she tried to stop him he’d kill one of them to teach her a lesson before killing her too. It wasn’t fair. She stayed in the outskirts of town to help the sick and injured people that were ignored by the rest of society. She couldn’t help many, but with the bandages she kept clean and waiting on a line outside and the few tents she’d managed to stich together from tattered clothing she had managed to keep the injured junkies from bleeding to death.

The slaver’s black shirt rippled from the bunched muscles it was draped over, and he tipped his black cowboy hat at her before he continued. “I’m only here for these sorry souls. Business has been slow and there’s always a need for cheap disposable manpower somewhere so here I am. If you play along I won’t have to hurt you. I might even have a little cash for you if you keep them coming since this could play out very well for me in the long run.” He grinned and cocked the hammer on his revolver, hoping that the grim sound would be all that he needed to convince her to go with his demands without any more trouble. To his surprise, she screamed and clawed at his face with her nails. He clubbed her over the head with his fun, and she collapsed senseless to the ground. He was lying when he’d promised to kill her if she made a fuss. She kept the product in a single space and only had the ones that would never manage to fight back. This was a goldmine!
***

Thomas watched as the demon knocked the unseen woman to the ground. She didn’t melt into a shadow and mingle into the darkness like the other one had. Instead, she became a formless blob on the ground. What does that mean? I’ve got to get the other one while he’s distracted! He crept forward without alerting the demon to his presence, and had almost made it right to his back when one of the kneeling monsters looked directly at him and gave him away. The black demon swung around and there was the ‘click’ of a breaking bone again as he tried to point some sort of deformed claw at Thomas. Thomas was faster however, and with the strength availably to only the truly desperate he grabbed a discarded limb from the ground and clubbed the demon on the side of the head with it. The claw dropped to the ground, but the large monster managed to punch Thomas right in the nose in retaliation.
Thomas Grey, level 5, Ranger Rep +10, BT Rep +118, Brick Rep +15
SPECIAL: 6, 7, 7, 4, 7, 6, 3
Equipment
Weaponry: Colt Army revolver, pocket revolver, 1x smoke/stun/baseball grenades.
Armor: Pack rat clothing, leather greaves, reinforced chaps.
Appearance: Caucasian. Tall, strong build, short thick curly brown hair. Dark eyes, a frown, and a cleanshaven face. Grey shirt with 3/4 sleeves and leather bracers. Jeans with reinforced leather chaps, and a tool belt.
Companion: Elizabeth Sharpe - 4, 8, 4, 3, 5, 10, 6 - Small stature, but makes up for it with knives, a crossbow, and attitude. Level 5. +5 BT Rep.
John Slater: SPECIAL 8(+1).4.10.5.5.4.5.
One bad hombre
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Mixtli
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Resident Canadian
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas was knocked backward by the strength of the blow, but as everything started to go dark he heard screams and clanking erupt from the kneeling freaks. They all leapt up and piled onto the tall demon. As Thomas fell unconscious he saw them ride the demon to the ground and descend with tooth and nail on his fallen form. Fuck they’re going to come for me next! But with that thought he fell unconscious.

***
Lisa looked down at the saviour of her group of ragged charges. When he fell he’d gotten dirt and blood in his eyes, and his nose looked a little rough but it wasn’t broken. She’d cleaned his face with a little bit of water and wrapped a bandage around his head to protect his eyes as he slept. She turned and looked at the bloodied remains of the slaver. She might be a generous person that looked after the dregs of society, but some people weren’t worth saving. Her other patients were back in their places resting after the trying ordeal. Some wounds had opened, but the horrible slaver hadn’t managed to hurt anyone other than her and this stranger before they’d killed him.

The man started to stir, and she held his hand and whispered to him as he realized he couldn’t see and started to reach for the bandage. “Don’t touch that! You’ve saved all of us. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t helped us.” The man reached for the bandage covering his eyes again. “You got some dirt and blood in your eyes, so I washed them out and bandaged them to keep them safe for a little bit.” The man mumbled something that she couldn’t understand, and with a jolt of pity she realized that he was suffering from the effects of one drug or another. “You’re welcome to stay here and rest, but you can leave if you wish.” He shook his head and pulled the bandage down around his neck and tried to stand. She helped him to his feet since his eyes were unaccustomed to the bright daylight, and they walked to the entrance of one of the tents. Without even really looking at her, he mumbled a quick “thank you” and started walking away.
***
Thomas Grey, level 5, Ranger Rep +10, BT Rep +118, Brick Rep +15
SPECIAL: 6, 7, 7, 4, 7, 6, 3
Equipment
Weaponry: Colt Army revolver, pocket revolver, 1x smoke/stun/baseball grenades.
Armor: Pack rat clothing, leather greaves, reinforced chaps.
Appearance: Caucasian. Tall, strong build, short thick curly brown hair. Dark eyes, a frown, and a cleanshaven face. Grey shirt with 3/4 sleeves and leather bracers. Jeans with reinforced leather chaps, and a tool belt.
Companion: Elizabeth Sharpe - 4, 8, 4, 3, 5, 10, 6 - Small stature, but makes up for it with knives, a crossbow, and attitude. Level 5. +5 BT Rep.
John Slater: SPECIAL 8(+1).4.10.5.5.4.5.
One bad hombre
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Mixtli
Member Avatar
Resident Canadian
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Thomas wasn’t sure what was happening. When the bandage came off and he started to see again he couldn’t tell what he was looking at. One second the pale figure was a plain looking woman standing in a tattered tent, and the next he was back in what would be accurately be called a nightmare. In his confusion he just wanted to leave quickly, and he hobbled away without looking back. His perception of the landscape was the same. The blood-soaked ground and shadowy birds kept warping into mud and dirt and simple shadows. He felt that he recognized a building ahead, and he staggered inside and collapsed to the floor.

***
Elizabeth hefted heavy pot and listened to the sloshing water inside. It was amazing what people would leave alone, and this thing didn’t even have any holes so it had been an easy decision to use this to cook in. She hadn’t been able to find any meat to add to the pot, but she’d found some small plants that had smelled good and didn’t make her ill when she sampled them so she’d picked a few to flavour the food. She arrived back at the shack and inside she found a bloodied Thomas flat on the floor. What the fuck happened to him? She set the pot down (she’d gone through too much work to waste that water) and gently shook him to find out what kind of shape he was in.

He groaned and looked at her, and after a moment he shut his eyes so he couldn’t see her. “Elizabeth is that you? I don’t know what’s happening or where I am, and everything keeps changing and swirling around and I can’t look at anything right now.” He moaned and rolled onto his side to curl into a ball.

Looking down on Thomas as he curled into a shitty little ball of misery made Elizabeth feel terrible, although if you asked her why she wouldn’t really be able to put words to it. The big guy had gone through some shit, and right now he needed a friend. “Thomas I’m going to be right back. I’m just going to get something cooking and then I’ll be here until you feel better.” A sleight groan was all she got out of him, and she went through the motions of making a simple meal of boiled carrots and potatoes as quickly as possible. After the work was done she sat next to him and put his head on her lap. What are you even supposed to do when people are like this? I don’t have a fucking idea of what to say or- but her thought were interrupted when he grabbed her hand with his and squeezed tightly. She rolled her eyes and sighed, but she didn’t say anything or try to make him let go. With any luck he wouldn’t remember this and they would be able to avoid any embarrassment from this.
***

Thomas woke up a few hours later. His head was pounding, but everything looked like normal again. His face hurt and there was something tied around his neck is this a bandage? but he was back in the cabin that Will had called home before he had come back and exacted his revenge on the man. There was a small pot in the corner that smelled heavenly, and Elizabeth was sitting cross-legged watching him with a strange expression on her face. “Hey big guy, are you feeling alright?” He nodded, unable to speak at the moment from a combination of hunger, thirst, and general exhaustion. With the good news, her face resumed its customary scowl. She pointed at the pot. “I’ve got a bit of grub in there and two shitty looking spoons. You better eat some of that shit or I’m never making you anything to eat again you stupid drug smoking fuck.” And they sat facing each other with the pot of chopped vegetables sitting between them, and as they ate in silence, unbeknownst to each other, they hadn’t been so happy so see someone alive and relatively ok in a long damn time.

FIN
Thomas Grey, level 5, Ranger Rep +10, BT Rep +118, Brick Rep +15
SPECIAL: 6, 7, 7, 4, 7, 6, 3
Equipment
Weaponry: Colt Army revolver, pocket revolver, 1x smoke/stun/baseball grenades.
Armor: Pack rat clothing, leather greaves, reinforced chaps.
Appearance: Caucasian. Tall, strong build, short thick curly brown hair. Dark eyes, a frown, and a cleanshaven face. Grey shirt with 3/4 sleeves and leather bracers. Jeans with reinforced leather chaps, and a tool belt.
Companion: Elizabeth Sharpe - 4, 8, 4, 3, 5, 10, 6 - Small stature, but makes up for it with knives, a crossbow, and attitude. Level 5. +5 BT Rep.
John Slater: SPECIAL 8(+1).4.10.5.5.4.5.
One bad hombre
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LMGVagabond
Member Avatar
Crispy, Creamy, and Quite Dreamy
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
This was a fun lil short piece. It wasn't anything profound or deep, it was just Thomas beating the shit out out people while baked out of his mind. With minimal errors and good language. I would recommend breaking up a few of those bigger quotes with some little snippets of detail, but other than that this is just fine.

Rewards:

Quote:
 
Bucket Town Rep: +10


Quote:
 
x10 Cotton Bond Notes - The main currency found in CTE. Weird it'd be found on a slaver demon huh?


Quote:
 
Shoe inserts - Turns out the man you dickpunched was a bit on the shorter side! These worn rubber wedges fit a bit uncomfortably in the wearer's shoes but will make him appear 2 inches taller to the untrained eye.


Quote:
 
Fake mustache - The apocalypse has done little to stop this fine artificial face rodent. Still as greasy and lush as the day they cut it off that horse, this fake mustache is sure to please those who need to lay low after having their identity stolen by a psycho murderer.
Luis d'Duret
6.3.5.9.7.3.7
Level 1

Root Beer
Level 1

PLEASE UNMOD ME ;( ;(
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