[color=696969][center][url=https://fontmeme.com/fonts/punk-typewriter-font/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240122/96b51cbc48bd377db299e57ead156677.png[/img][/url][/center][b][color=634533]Time:[/color][/b] A.M.
[b][color=634533]Location:[/color][/b] River Port Forest
[b][color=634533]Interactions/Mentions:[/color][/b] [@mole][@Conscripts]
[b][color=634533]Equipment: [/color][/b] Knife, drugs, and wallet looted from dope peddler
[center][h3][color=634533]✠✠✠✠✠[/color][/h3][/center]
The damn forest floor swam beneath Vasco’s feet and the trees blurred into a dizzying mish-mash of greens and browns. Nausea hit him in waves, each wallop more of a doozy than the last. His stomach churned, and he could taste bile rising in his throat. [color=C2B4A7]“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,”[/color] he muttered, his usual swagger more of a stagger now. Vasco knew he was on the ropes, and he couldn’t go on like this.

Pressing his back against the rough bark of a towering oak, he sank to the ground. With a groan, he lowered himself onto the soft bed of moss and fallen leaves, squeezing his peepers shut. Flat on his back, Vasco focused on his breathing, willing the world to stop its wild spin.

Slowly, the vertigo eased off. He became aware of the cool dampness of the moss against his back, the earthy scent of rotting leaves filling his nostrils. The gentle rustle of leaves overhead replaced the roaring in his ear.

Just as things started feeling halfway normal again, Vasco sensed he had company. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to risk stirring up another round of the spins. Besides, he didn’t need his eyes to know who it was.

Vasco arranged himself into a picture of nonchalance. He crossed his arms behind his head and propped one knee up, draping the other leg over it like he was catching a mid-afternoon siesta.

To anyone giving him the once-over, he’d look like a guy just kicking back, shirking his duties without a care. Better Rowan—and the others—saw him as nothing more than a lazy good-for-nothing bum. It beat the hell out of the truth, that’s for sure.

A crooked smirk quirked Vasco’s lips. [color=C2B4A7]“Ya score us some grub and a place to flop, mac?”[/color] Vasco asked Rowan.[/color]