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Old Memories

 
Petyr's picture
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The cigarette tasted rough, as if it was cut with something other than tobacco. What a disappointment. He'd have to return to the vendor and persuade them to get a refund. The smoke trailed off the tip of it as he held it between gloved fingers, just kind of letting it linger and burn away naturally.

"What are you doing?" a woman's voice asked as she walked up to him from the left.
"Oh." he didn't realize it, but he had been staring out into space for a minute now without talking "Just thinking." he finally replied.
"What about?" she smiled at him, a grin from ear to ear that had no business being directed towards a man such as himself.
"Nothing..." he replied calmly, knowing well that there was a problem that he couldn't let her know about. Several problems, in fact, that might make her sick to the stomach.
"Well, lets go inside!" she kissed him on the cheek eagerly before passing by.

He had been standing outside the Badger's HQ waiting for her. It was someplace he didn't exactly find himself enjoying, even just standing here, but she wanted to join them and far be it from him to deny her something she wanted. Even if it meant she would be apart of an organization he didn't particularly care for or approve of. He'd follow along for now.

 

4 years later

 

Petyr stretched his arms above his head as his shoulders and back began to crack. It was first light and his body was still waking up, just one of many 'perks' he was starting to experience as an older man, it'd been awhile since he had cloned into a fresh body. However, it was time to do the daily chores, no time to waste on waking up. He cooked breakfast, washed his car, tended to the garden, the usual mindless tasks that required his attention. But as he headed inside after a hard days work and closed the door behind him, he glanced over to the counter where the bone white mask he once wore religiously had been sitting unceremoniously for months. It was worn out and cracked from years of violence. Staring at the mask from across the room, he began to remember that one time those guys shot him in the face and breaking his original mask completely while he was enjoying a smoke, accusing him of a crime he didn't even commit. But he was the easy target, the usual suspect... Vakkos... so why not accuse him? Can't really blame them, looking back at it now. He had merely sat there and let them have their fun without a word, he knew it wouldn't matter in the long run. What were their names? It had been so long he had forgotten but it still baffled him. What did they think they'd accomplish killing him? He was a clone after all. Then the memory of the mob that brutalized him in Hope Springs popped into his head, that taught him a lesson if only for a few weeks. His home burnt and his dogs slaughtered. Hunted down by the so called peacekeepers of the canyon. Not to mention the countless times he was shot by Reavy or Agr and even by his best friend, Ramon, once or twice. Good times. Petyr picked up the mask and looked out the nearby window, the sun starting to set.
"Maybe I'll make a few visits."

Comments

Joe Spivey's picture

((Is this an example of old players noticing the corpse twitch? If it starts breathing, let me know.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Canni Belle's picture

*Lays completely prone, dirty arms outstretched on the ground and chin resting between them. Beady little eyes focused intently on the twitching corpses chest* 

((I always loved your writing Petyr, it's great to see it again))

One minute your calm, the next your shooting someone in the face, then your doing your chickendance. If that is not chaos I dont know what is - Aiid

JeassiahBlack's picture

((ponders which to poke first, the one the looks and smells like a body in need of a bath bady or the one that twitched once or twice....

JeassiahBlack's picture

((Come visit Petyr, all the more role play and oppertunities!  *hugs* Keep writing hun.



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