Aww poop. I meant to write Garrett, not Evan on that last sentence. Wasnt ignoring your character you incredibly handsome beast you.
Haha, thanks. I thought that might have been the case, but I hadn't been too sure.
OoTrillionoO Member
A Sarcastic Man
STATUS: Getting a new computer to replace my laptop! I'm so stoked somebody might mistake me for the burning pits of hell! 9 yrs ago
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- OoTrillionoO 10 yrs ago
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9 yrs ago
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Getting a new computer to replace my laptop! I'm so stoked somebody might mistake me for the burning pits of hell!
9 yrs ago
Laryngitis and double ear infections. Today's going to be a great day.
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9 yrs ago
I typically listen to metal, classical or rock, but here I have found myself listening to a song called "drop pop candy" on repeat for about an hour. I've changed and I don't know if I like it.
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Haha, thanks. I thought that might have been the case, but I hadn't been too sure.
Gah! Got ninja'd. Doesn't look like there's anything conflicting with either of our posts though, so I'll leave mine unedited.
Oh, and if you feel like giving your character medical knowledge here's Garret's condition:
Oh, and if you feel like giving your character medical knowledge here's Garret's condition:
I feel like I'm killing my own character, but six hours of blood lose is kinda significant.
Garret noticed that his offer fell on deaf ears, and knowing that he lacked the energy to argue he decided to ignore it, resting his head on the side of the cruiser door he waited, hoping the pill had begun its way into his bloodstream. Every heartbeat was like a pounded his the inside of his skull like a drum, and every breath shook his body. He closed his eyes, hoping that he wouldn't bleed to death before the pill kicked in. It wasn't a "cure all" pill, infact all it did was increase the chances of his blood clotting to the point that it was almost normal. And, even if his cuts healed he very well could have internal bleeding, in which case this could very well be the end.
Garret hadn't even noticed when Roland had left, but Garret opened his eyes when he stuck his head down into the cruiser, giving him a once over. "Stay here a moment, rest for just a bit, the wounds do not look bad and it appears to be clotting up," Roland said, affirming that Garret's pill had already taken affect. With this, all Garret could do was rest his head back. Letting a little chuckle escape his throat, he knew his luck had yet to run out. He would live. There'd be no internal bleeding and his luck would hold out once more. Garret let his eyes droop closed just as Roland had requested, and began to let his consciousness slip.
Garret awoke at the feeling of his arm being raised as gauze was wrapped being pulled around it. He looked over at Roland, gratitude etched into his eyes. Is he doing this out of thanks, or is he a genuine good person? Garret looked at him up and down as drowsiness began to slip back into his mind. Well, it doesn't matter either way, does it? We all have our own reasons for doing the things we do.
He began to nod off, but stopped himself as Roland began to speak, and managed to stay awake throughout his speech, and when he was done Garret shifted his eyes around the car. His backpack was fine, and his sledge hammer had shifted itself around the car over to the back. There, that was all he needed. Now that he'd found everything he needed he would milk the rest of his four minutes to get as much sleep as possible, he felt weak, tired, and out of breath. When he awoke he'd be surprised if he could walk, but the Garret of now didn't need to worry about that. That'd be for the Garret of later. He heard a man ask him something, but Garret's mind already began to slip, easing him into sleep.
Garret hadn't even noticed when Roland had left, but Garret opened his eyes when he stuck his head down into the cruiser, giving him a once over. "Stay here a moment, rest for just a bit, the wounds do not look bad and it appears to be clotting up," Roland said, affirming that Garret's pill had already taken affect. With this, all Garret could do was rest his head back. Letting a little chuckle escape his throat, he knew his luck had yet to run out. He would live. There'd be no internal bleeding and his luck would hold out once more. Garret let his eyes droop closed just as Roland had requested, and began to let his consciousness slip.
Garret awoke at the feeling of his arm being raised as gauze was wrapped being pulled around it. He looked over at Roland, gratitude etched into his eyes. Is he doing this out of thanks, or is he a genuine good person? Garret looked at him up and down as drowsiness began to slip back into his mind. Well, it doesn't matter either way, does it? We all have our own reasons for doing the things we do.
He began to nod off, but stopped himself as Roland began to speak, and managed to stay awake throughout his speech, and when he was done Garret shifted his eyes around the car. His backpack was fine, and his sledge hammer had shifted itself around the car over to the back. There, that was all he needed. Now that he'd found everything he needed he would milk the rest of his four minutes to get as much sleep as possible, he felt weak, tired, and out of breath. When he awoke he'd be surprised if he could walk, but the Garret of now didn't need to worry about that. That'd be for the Garret of later. He heard a man ask him something, but Garret's mind already began to slip, easing him into sleep.
Could I reserve Mercury and Xenon?
Oh, and if anyone wants to do a group thingy with the noble gases I'd be down to shindig.
Oh, and if anyone wants to do a group thingy with the noble gases I'd be down to shindig.
I'm interested.
I've always loved the concept of being given a certain role, and working off of that.
I've always loved the concept of being given a certain role, and working off of that.
Black. Pure, and utter black. Garret's world swayed, band and forth, back and forth, back and forth, over and over again. And then there was light. Blinding light, filling his eyes with its cruel, merciless brightness. And yet, he didn't squint, or even blink. What had happened? Why could he not feel his body? Why were his breaths so weak? If for only an instant, he regained a bit of consciousness, and his eyes began to focus. There was grass poking through the wind shield? No, the wind shield was gone. But how did the grass get to the roof? Garret was then able to put two and two together, despite the fact that fog clouded his mind, and realize that he was upside down. He swung his head lazily to the left, eyeing the seatbelt hooked on his shoulder, keeping him off the ground. The airbag at the front was a sloppy mess, but it had deployed. So, why did he feel so weak? So, so weak. It felt like his legs were gone, and that his arms were heavier than lead.
Garret gritted his teeth, swinging his arms up to detach the seatbelt. By pure luck his palm struck the release, and he fell to the floor, landing on his backpack. He looked back down at his arm, seeing only red. So much red covered his arm. Then the dizziness hit him like a shock wave, reminding him that he was still very much alive. But not for long if he didn't act quickly. He threw off his backpack and pulled himself up off of the ground. He could hear mumbles in the back, but his mind was too weak to process anything. How much time had passed? How much blood had he lost? He opened a side compartment on his bag with lazy fingers, barely grasping onto the zipper with his ring finger and thumb, and there within lied his last hope. He pulled the plastic bag open, and seeing only crushed remains of the pill that lay within, he tilted his head back, and let the contents fall into his mouth. He then grabbed the nozzle on his water backpack and began to drink, seemingly pulling more life back into himself with each gulp.
He was alive and absolutely covered in red. He had cuts on his legs, cuts on his arms, and a deep gash where the seatbelt had stopped him from flying through the windshield. How much time had gone by? How long had he bled out? It may not matter anymore, but he knew he'd be more of a hindrance to these people than a help. Then he heard groans outside, and noticed that the three in the back were all awake. All except for Roland, who had apparently dispatched the sniper during the time at the school yard. He was unable to make out sounds, but noticed that one of them was offering water in the back. Garret grabbed his water backpack and threw it over to them with a weak toss.
"Hey... if you need water... drink this... hold onto what little you have"
Garret gritted his teeth, swinging his arms up to detach the seatbelt. By pure luck his palm struck the release, and he fell to the floor, landing on his backpack. He looked back down at his arm, seeing only red. So much red covered his arm. Then the dizziness hit him like a shock wave, reminding him that he was still very much alive. But not for long if he didn't act quickly. He threw off his backpack and pulled himself up off of the ground. He could hear mumbles in the back, but his mind was too weak to process anything. How much time had passed? How much blood had he lost? He opened a side compartment on his bag with lazy fingers, barely grasping onto the zipper with his ring finger and thumb, and there within lied his last hope. He pulled the plastic bag open, and seeing only crushed remains of the pill that lay within, he tilted his head back, and let the contents fall into his mouth. He then grabbed the nozzle on his water backpack and began to drink, seemingly pulling more life back into himself with each gulp.
He was alive and absolutely covered in red. He had cuts on his legs, cuts on his arms, and a deep gash where the seatbelt had stopped him from flying through the windshield. How much time had gone by? How long had he bled out? It may not matter anymore, but he knew he'd be more of a hindrance to these people than a help. Then he heard groans outside, and noticed that the three in the back were all awake. All except for Roland, who had apparently dispatched the sniper during the time at the school yard. He was unable to make out sounds, but noticed that one of them was offering water in the back. Garret grabbed his water backpack and threw it over to them with a weak toss.
"Hey... if you need water... drink this... hold onto what little you have"
I'll be posting.
Dang, a car crash? Welp, no way he could get out of that one without cuts. I feel like I set myself up for failure, having a hemophiliac and all.
Dang, a car crash? Welp, no way he could get out of that one without cuts. I feel like I set myself up for failure, having a hemophiliac and all.
I'll wait a little while before posting again.
Gah! Moral decisions, moral decisions. You guys don't let up.
Yey, I pusted purdy wurds ern de kompeutaa!
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