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Author Topic: Ain't got sh//, but I got this far [Rhi]  (Read 572 times)

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Offline nephero

Ain't got sh//, but I got this far [Rhi]
« on: May 30, 2014, 02:47:52 pm »
Really, the picture was... spot on. It was a perfect likeness, even if it were just lines and not a photograph (he was pretty sure there were no photos of him, so, you know, fair). His scrawled self stared up at him with open mockery, right up to the hand gestures his little paper self attempted to give everyone who saw the poster.

Stars and suns, it was perfect. He just might hang it in his ship, complete with some manner of ornate and gaudy frame to house it. A better display of the craft of portraiture there never was. All with the lovely tagline of WANTED. DEAD. 2.1 M CREDITS.

The bitch.

Semessa was getting desperate. She'd been out of their home system about as long as he had, and he was pretty sure she hadn't been working the whole time. Did she even have the money to put up for a reward like this? Or was she getting some thrice-damned sponsor?

No Son ran through a mental checklist of past... endeavors. There were at least a dozen present that might warrant being avenged. But seriously, two million? Two freakin' million? All for him dead? Color him flattered.

He rummaged around a drawer, and found a roll of tape. Biting through a few pieces, he used those to slap his wanted poster up onto a cabinet door. In a fit of childish rage, he scrawled out his poster's eyes, and in an even more childish display, wrote above it

Bluh Bluh huge BITCH

It didn't even register with him that an onlooker might assume he was calling himself a bitch, too far gone in his agitation. He could feel his spines pressing against the thicker padding of his shirt, and that bit of discomfort just made him angrier. He lashed out at an errant ammo box, kicking it straight into the opposite wall of the supply room. It bounced off, hit his cot, and scattered to the floor, spilling countless single bullets everywhere.

No Son growled, and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

Fine.

FINE.

He could lay low, hunker down in the boonies somewhere, and just keep out of sight. No jobs, but hell, he had enough to live by on that. So long as he didn't somehow, like, bunk on a planet populated only by plantlife.

That had been the hungriest fuckin' week of his life. What the hell kind of cruel god made an entire world without meat? Not even bugs! Seriously?

He stepped over the mess he had made, and dropped into the cockpit of his ship. It was time to get the hell out of dodge, and do it now. A few flicks of switches, and the engines thrummed to life, pushing him out of the lazy orbit he had been coasting in since he'd found the poster plastered to an info board on-planet.

 

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