Re: Destiny-Cargo Bay
Geoff, as was becoming a far-too-common occurance lately, stood in the cargo bay, looking from person to person to person, unsure of what move to make next. He was completely unprepared for this kind of life. Give him a gun, ammunition and a target and he could fly through with no hesitation. Give him a crowded bar, a few drunks and a pair of steady fists and he could bull his way through practically unscathed. But put him in the center of a group of people where pretty words and apologies were necessary and he was naught more than a babe lost in the woods; with a pack of ravening wolves salivating not two meters away.
With a sigh, Geoff just shrugged his shoulders and headed toward his bunk. Gorram it, Rhaef. Dunno if'n I'm more ruttin' pissed cause you're gone an' left me t'pick up yer weight or cause yer comin' back an' I ain't gonna be nuthin' but muscle an' a pretty face.
At least he'd been given carte blanche in the weapons department. The thought didn't help.
-- To Geoff's Bunk
This message was last edited by the player at 04:28, Wed 23 Jan 2008.