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"Awwwwwww. My tacooooooooos! Hurt pulls two pistols with wicked looking bayonets from shoulder holsters that had been (barely) concealed by his jacket. He spears a soft taco with each bayonet and eats one while scanning the area for something to shoot.
"A margarita, a Dos Equis, another plate of tacos, and some churros. I'm a growing boy. High metabolism. Plus, guys eating Mexican food are sexy and I want to look sexy." Hurt ignores the strange look from the waiter and digs in to his lunch. He does not look sexy.
Totally works. Thanks.
Hurt eats tacos. Lots of tacos.
I remember buying our house very well and it's hell with smelly balls. For my part, I've no problem with you taking your time with this. I'm not going anywhere.
Hurt sat on a beat up couch in a draft, disused warehouse. One good thing about a down economy, lot of places to crash off the grid. He watched TV and listened to a police scanner he had...um...appropriated for heroic use...from a pawn shop. "This is crap. Total crap. How does anyone know where the heroic stuff is needed? All this stupid scanner has told me is where the dumbest prostitutes are. Which is not a bad thing. That's useful. But I need a bank robbery or Godzilla or a bunch of draculas eating ice skaters. Something to put me on the map. "I should also stop talking to myself. I should also write down that draculas and ice skaters thing. If the hero thing doesn't work, I could be a Hollywood screenwriter!" After pacing the length of the warehouse for a few minutes, Hurt walked over to a trapdoor set in the floor of one corner. After unlocking all six padlocks and removing the chains, he drop down into the lower level. This are is more pleasantly appointed with plush rugs and furniture that had also been "appropriated for heroic use." A desk cluttered with monitors and computer equipment sits unattended at one wall. "Shaky... Oh, Shakyyyyyyy... Where are you?" Huddled under the computer desk is a lanky young man with thick rimmed glasses, perhaps in his mid twenties. He shakes like a leaf at Hurt's approach. "Wha- Wha- Wha- What do you want?" "Get up here, Shaky. I'm not going to hurt you. We have an agreement. I'm trying really hard to keep those now. I need you to make the internet tell me where to fight a bunch of draculas eating ice skaters." "A bunch of...what? Y-you mean vampires? They aren't all named Dracula. And in any case I don't think they're real." "That's what the draculas want you to think, Van Helsing. And don't make any bets on the not real thing but whatever. Does this city have a Godzilla? I don't want to go to Japan to fight a Godzilla. Those people get way too handsy on the train." "I- I don't think Godzilla is real either. You could go on patrol. I think that's something heroes do." There is a long pause as Hurt just stares at Shaky. "You suck, Shaky. You are the worst." Hurt climbs up the ladder again. "Find me some draculas. You suck. Suckhead. Suckysuck-suckface." The trap door shuts with a resounding clang and Shaky slumps gratefully into his chair.
Well maybe you could write up a small bio for us? :) I wrote something up during recruitment but I guess it never made it on to my profile. It is there now if you didn't see it.
Likewise, Hurt wears no mask and goes around using his real name. He's got about a century of century of merc'ing and banditry under his belt although he remembers next to none of it. People, especially bad people, will know who he is pretty quickly. You'd hang out with him in public out of costume at your own risk. To save money on ammo, he usually just orders delivery pizza, chinese, or tacos. Easier on everyone.
Fixed. I thought I had made that change but I guess not. Good looking out. I still have to write out my attack sequence for convenience but I'll be ready to go Monday.
Have I mentioned that Hurt is up and running? Because he is. |
