@Desvelarse pets
Vaughn raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I didn’t say a thing,” he said apologetically.
Vaughn raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I didn’t say a thing,” he said apologetically.
"I know that, but you were looking at me oddly, so I felt the need to explain," Avery clarified. She turned to face the steadily growing line on the horizon. They were almost there.
“Just thinking, sorry,” Vaughn said. He hadn’t apologized to anyone in a good chunk of time, so the words felt strange on his tongue.
Avery simply hummed in acknowledgment, still looking out over the water.
"Look how close we are to land. I wonder what we'll find there…" she mused quietly.
"Well, if we're lucky, a truck and the supplies I called for. If not?" Dylan paused and smiled as he imagined it, "About fifty guns, fully loaded, to make sure we're dead after the snipers take us."
Avery snorted.
"Well, I'd much prefer the first option to the second," she declared, her voice tinged with laughter.
"Why?" Dylan laughed back, "Between ethereal walls, animal-like abilities, and Vaughn just beating the hell out of people? We'd come out with a couple of scratches. What d'ya think, Vaughn?"
Vaughn gave a very faint smile again as he nodded slowly in agreement. “Either way, I think we’ll get through it fine,” he said.
Dylan smirked as he steered the boat to shore. "I made the big man smile. This day just got a whole lot brighter," he muttered.
(Are we opening this to new comers, now that we're here?)
(Yup!)
Avery laughed quietly, then bit her lip as she looked out at the shore. What, exactly, would they find there? She didn't mean supplies-wise, but more like… what kind of people, animals, heroes, villains, and so on would they find?
(Bumping.)
(Bumping.)
Dylan finished manuvering the ship into a lonely port, hidden by trees. Everyone disembarked happily, and they managed to make their way out into the open street with no snipers or villain bothering them. And right at the portside hotel was the truck Dylan had called for.
"I guess we were lucky," he said, smiling as he threw his gear in the back.
"Good, good," Avery said absentmindedly. She was surveying the area around them, checking, double checking, and triple checking that everything was actually okay. It was all just…too easy…
Vaughn had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder filled with his own personal weapons. He dropped it into the back, checking it for a moment to see if everything was there. He took out his favorite, a silver AMT Automag V, and slid the cartridge in with a snap before tucking it into his waistband in case if he needed it.
(Bumping.)
(Bumping.)
"I figured you would have gone with a Firestar, or something like that. A tad bit easier to handle?"
Vaughn looked at Dylan, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I just.. like this one. I don’t know,” he said, stumbling over his words in his exhausted, sleep deprived state.
Dylan shrugged and hopped into the truck. He propped the laptop up on the dashboard and pulled up the map. Poking his head out the window, he asked, "So who wants to nap in the back while I drive?"
Vaughn thought about Dylan’s offer before shaking his head. Better if he stayed alert. “I’m fine,” he answered, glancing over to Avery.
(OMGOSH, I'M SO SORRY! I was busy all this weekend and I didn't get a chance to get on here!)
Avery tore her eyes from the area around them, turning to face Dylan and the truck.
"I'm good," she replied, waving away the offer. "I wouldn't be able sleep even if I tried."
(Bumping.)
Dylan nodded, and hooked a thumb towards the back, "Vaughn takes rear, then. You look like hell, so sleep if you need to. It'll be a little bumpy, but you can work with it."
To Avery he said, "Hop on in. I need a navigator."
Just then, Dylan heard a loud CRACK, and the truck shuddered. Another shot took made the truck shudder again. His windshield shattered.
"Fuck!"
Avery dropped to the ground, leaning against the side of the truck.
What in the world? Why didn't I notice anything? I was looking around, but I didn't see– Shoot. This is why I use other animals' senses when I look for things.
"Dylan! Vaughn! Get down!" she shouted.
(Bumping.)
(Oh gosh I didn’t see this okay)
Vaughn cursed sharply, ducking down as well. He took out his gun and cocked it, looking around. “Where the hell are the shots coming from?!”
Dylan slid a hand out of the car, onto the hood. Another crack, this one expected, rang out, and a bullet put a clean hole through the hood of the truck, barely an inch to the left of Dylan's outstretched hand.
"One of them is on the truck's left. Vaughn, do you have any guns with some range?"
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