@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI@_ConOfMan --he gripped the can two-handed, carefully uprighting it, and took a step back with a soft whistle to alert @_ConOfMan, and spun toward the chopper's tail* HAI!
@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI@_ConOfMan --fluid from hitting him directly in the face* *under his breath* When we get home, 'mind me to ask the doc if we can turn liquified walkers into fuel. Shi... *a snap of jaw, barely audible over the filling fuel tank, --
@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI@_ConOfMan *bracing the last of the oversized gas cans against his shoulder, he humped it delicately upward, letting the spout connect with the fuel dock by feel alone, and bowed his head to keep errant backsplash of the noxious --
@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI@_ConOfMan -- livin' up in them ivory towers of academia so long you never noticed. *his words ending with a soft kiss to her cheek, he backed out, smirking, and turned a pale gaze to the pair in the back seat* --
@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI@_ConOfMan --his lips brush lightly over the ruined skin of her cheek* Good people've been in short supply all along. *brow arching, a hollow thud of the empty gas can reverberating in the cab as he wrapped his fingers around the molded yellow plastic* You just been--
@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI@_ConOfMan *boot thumping to the ground, he turned back to the cab, his brow arching @LevelUpDead's tone* I got news for ya, Ace... *lingering on her face a beat, then two, the leather creaked as he leaned back across the bench seat and let --
@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI@_ConOfMan -- bumped over another truck-sized pothole* *quietly* You and Michael... You ever get to see all this before it all went to shit, Ace?
@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI@_ConOfMan -- *snorting* Nice catch, Ace. Ain't what I thought it was. *turning the map a full three-sixty, he frowned first at the paper and then out the windshield, jolting as they--
@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI@_ConOfMan *shoulder pressed to the leather seatback, he craned his neck, scowling at the lump of brown goop on the seat, and grunted* That's Puddin'? *thumping back down into his seat, he leaned forward and tapped a fingernail to the glass gas gauge cover*--
@LevelUpDead@_ConOfMan@Cooler_Than_PI --gaze to hers* You know we're gonna need fuel for the chopper, Ace. That bird ain't goin' nowhere on a red line.
@LevelUpDead@_ConOfMan@Cooler_Than_PI --The professor's your call, talks more like the doc and Liz, but I ain't gettin' a sense he's plannin' on killin' us in our sleep, neither. *He seems more'n happy just to be here with the girl. *eyes narrowing at the pump gauge, he lifted his --
@LevelUpDead@_ConOfMan@Cooler_Than_PI *scowling at the pump gauge, he arched a brow* What in hell's a litre? *rolling his shoulder, he angled away from the truck, keeping the reflection in view of the tank's glassed in gauge* I ain't gettin' nothin' but good off the girl, Ace. --
@_ConOfMan@Cooler_Than_PI@LevelUpDead -- boot crunching on gravel as he landed, turning toward the tank* Shit. *stymied, he stared down at the jumble of diagrams on the gas pump, consternation rising* How in hell's this thing even work? --
@_ConOfMan@Cooler_Than_PI@LevelUpDead ==through the sideview, gaze flickering from the professor to the girl* *quietly* The hell language she speakin', Ace? You know what she said? Flip the gas cap... *gently pushing the door open, he stepped soundlessly from the truck,--
@_ConOfMan@Cooler_Than_PI@LevelUpDead Me? Navy? *snorting* That ain't me. *pushing to a crouched stand, he craned his neck, peering out the passenger window gauging their distance from the gas pump* My brother. He was the soldier. *eyes narrowing, he watched the pair --
{whistling} Well! Did /someone/ run off with /my/ goddamn Wildcat?
Maybe I'll go pay Rick the Prick a visit. Keep him company while you two are on vacation.
@_ConOfMan@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI --*the bolt tip leaving a faint glowing trail with a wave of his hand* Can't tell if that's a mirage or another one of them damn old castles.
@_ConOfMan@LevelUpDead@Cooler_Than_PI --*jumping at a snap of jaw to their right, he twisted, took aim and fired, unsnapping a bolt from the rack* 'Bout time you got some sun on that pretty face of yours. --