Hello everyone. I quite litterally just got out of several personal issues i've been having over the past months that kept me away from this beloved, now quite suddenly comfy-looking website(with alot of brightness.. *puts on shades*)
But i'm glad to say i'm back in action, for the most part. I don't know if anyone here has a slight memory of me, but I posted here quite a while back while I had my own faction in APB running. It was fun, but then everyone left after I had to leave for what i've said above, and most of them didn't want to come back.
So I have returned to the best people out here in this comfortable bed. The rain dogs.
Maybe I'm not glitter or a beautiful hand-made vase, but I do love to write stories. APB was one of my favorite games to play(mostly for customization, but what the hell, can't say I didn't like blowing shit up) and writing stories and continue to write stories on.
Okay, I'll just cut the chatter and post my story.
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14 days before the evacuation of San Paro.
It was half past noon, a very freezing cold rain was pouring down the back of my jacket while sitting outside a perfectly good bar, talking to the most irresponsible, demanding, un-intelligent person I knew. Deserous.
He was blabbering on about some nonsense that the city was going to evacuate and every gang out there knew they were doomed or some stuiped shit like that while I read a interesting text offer from my phone. Two hundred thousand dollars for a modified LMG with piercing rounds. Dealer out.
Outragously priced and probably inaccurate, it was a good deal. Most people would be conned into buying it, but I trust my 6 round revolver better. I finally decide to pay attention to this monkey in front of me, and look up from my phone.
"Man, what are we going to do about it? There gonna be packing the army, and we'll be all dead or outta the city. I don't know much places other than San paro that would host this free-be gang wars."
Deserous says this with a nervous, fear-induced tone and I simply respond blankly,
"We leave, we migrate, we prosper. Pilgrims did it, so will we."
He quoted right after,
"There gonna be packing the army! Even if we did move, they'd take all our shit."
I thought about giving him a brain with a baseball bat, but instead I just said with a harsh tone,
"Deserous, if this is really the only reason you have me sitting out here in this god-forsaken rain thats pissing on my parade of a good tasting coffee, then I have no idea why you think I'm listening at all. If they want to threaten us, we threaten back. If they wanna fight us, we fight back. They win, we lose, we couldn't have stopped it unless we would have left earlier. I could give a shit what there packing. Because were probably packing it as well. Now get the fuck outta here before I decide to take a baseball bat to your fucking face."
He stared at me for a second, then he got up and left. Quickly.
I sighed, getting up as well, pushing this cheap plastic chair out from under me. This is my good jacket too, I thought with anquish.
My black mini-limousine was parked nearby. The doors switching from locked to unlocked could be heard as I walked up to it, getting in without much fuss, and with a last shake of my hat before I got in, I revved its engine and off I went. Adams St, here I come..
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But i'm glad to say i'm back in action, for the most part. I don't know if anyone here has a slight memory of me, but I posted here quite a while back while I had my own faction in APB running. It was fun, but then everyone left after I had to leave for what i've said above, and most of them didn't want to come back.
So I have returned to the best people out here in this comfortable bed. The rain dogs.
Maybe I'm not glitter or a beautiful hand-made vase, but I do love to write stories. APB was one of my favorite games to play(mostly for customization, but what the hell, can't say I didn't like blowing shit up) and writing stories and continue to write stories on.
Okay, I'll just cut the chatter and post my story.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
14 days before the evacuation of San Paro.
It was half past noon, a very freezing cold rain was pouring down the back of my jacket while sitting outside a perfectly good bar, talking to the most irresponsible, demanding, un-intelligent person I knew. Deserous.
He was blabbering on about some nonsense that the city was going to evacuate and every gang out there knew they were doomed or some stuiped shit like that while I read a interesting text offer from my phone. Two hundred thousand dollars for a modified LMG with piercing rounds. Dealer out.
Outragously priced and probably inaccurate, it was a good deal. Most people would be conned into buying it, but I trust my 6 round revolver better. I finally decide to pay attention to this monkey in front of me, and look up from my phone.
"Man, what are we going to do about it? There gonna be packing the army, and we'll be all dead or outta the city. I don't know much places other than San paro that would host this free-be gang wars."
Deserous says this with a nervous, fear-induced tone and I simply respond blankly,
"We leave, we migrate, we prosper. Pilgrims did it, so will we."
He quoted right after,
"There gonna be packing the army! Even if we did move, they'd take all our shit."
I thought about giving him a brain with a baseball bat, but instead I just said with a harsh tone,
"Deserous, if this is really the only reason you have me sitting out here in this god-forsaken rain thats pissing on my parade of a good tasting coffee, then I have no idea why you think I'm listening at all. If they want to threaten us, we threaten back. If they wanna fight us, we fight back. They win, we lose, we couldn't have stopped it unless we would have left earlier. I could give a shit what there packing. Because were probably packing it as well. Now get the fuck outta here before I decide to take a baseball bat to your fucking face."
He stared at me for a second, then he got up and left. Quickly.
I sighed, getting up as well, pushing this cheap plastic chair out from under me. This is my good jacket too, I thought with anquish.
My black mini-limousine was parked nearby. The doors switching from locked to unlocked could be heard as I walked up to it, getting in without much fuss, and with a last shake of my hat before I got in, I revved its engine and off I went. Adams St, here I come..
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