vegasixed

*  Fallout where

oldvegas

/ / * * :0

outtahell

do u ever smile or is ur life just always #pain :(

outtahell

u kinda smell …. like a skibidi rizzler :///

outtahell

You’re getting the floor dirty :/

OUTWESTED

ᴬ‧ᴹ   〞  huntin’  ya   down?   oh,   naw.    yer   just  way   too   good   at   leavin’   a   mess   ‘n  bleedin’   out.      .      ‘suppose   i   should   save  ya   from   last   time.   〞      
  • vegasixed

    ★͟⠀@OUTWESTED,⠀ ‘m reeeaaaaal (emphasis) disappointed. ‘ere I thought you were gonna put an end to my damn misery.  [Fingers shake as they try so desperately to stop the bleeding from ugly, deep stab wound. Blood seeps through his clothes; His body, slumpt on the ground, facing the West — and when his head tilts up, he meets the gaze of the Outlaw, sun setting behind him which casts almost a glowing-like aura around the Outlaw. The Courier laughs at the sight of his “saviour”, but it comes out as a pathetic wheeze of air from already damaged lungs. The sun, flushed with streaks of deeper colors such as blood flares brightly across the skies as it sinks into the jagged mountains in the background all while the Courier’s body slumpt, sweat coating the unusually pale face of the man, curling up into himself when the Outlaw approaches him. The Courier — no, more like a wounded animal, appearing as vulnerable as a lamb without its mother, its blood dribbling down to the ground. Here, as of right now, he is not the famed Courier numbered “Six”, but only once a frightened boy born from wandering prospectors of America who were slaughtered like animals on the chopping block by a legion led by a prideful, megalomaniacal man. The boy softly pants through his mouth, staring at the Outlaw’s face with half–lidded eyes and an unfocused gaze,]  “suppose”.  .  ahah (a dry laugh), y’gonna act an’ actually return the favour or jus’ let me bleed out, watchin’ like some jackass ‘til I actually pass out?
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  • OUTWESTED

    @VEGASIXED▕      SIX WAS ALWAYS MORE CADAVER THAN AN ACTUAL MAN TO ARTHUR.   HE WOULD NEVER UNDERSTAND IT,  OBVIOUSLY.   A LIVING,  WALKING   &.   BREATHING DEAD MAN═ㅤ═   BLEEDING OUT,  UNDERNEATH THE SCORCHING MIDDAY SUN.  UNFOCUSED,  &.  ABSOLUTELY DAMNED.  THE OUTLAW IS QUICK TO SCOOP UP THE LIVING ═ㅤ═ DEAD MAN.  PLACING HIM ON SADDLE OF HIS EBONY SHIRE.   「   SIX SLUMPS ONTO ARTHUR’S SHOULDER, A SMALL GRUNT ESCAPES HIM.       」  THE MARE WHINNIES AFTER.  THEN,  HE’S OFF═ㅤ═                   ᴬ‧ᴹ   〞  d’awh,   could  put   an   end    t’   it    now.   let   ya   bleed    out   on   brutus   ‘ere.   is   the  only   thing   you    do   is    fuss,     six?    maybe   i   should   be    an    ass.    ‘s    a    hell   lot   easier    than    bein’   kind   t’   ya.  now,  stay   with   me.   keep   talkin’.   〞                   HIS SMOOTH DRAWL CUTS THROUGH THE AIR.   HUES WOULD SPARE A FEW GLANCES AT SIX’S PALE VISAGE.  PATTING HIS CHEEK IN A WEAK ATTEMPT.  THE UNEVEN MOVEMENTS OF THE ROADS SHOULD KEEP HIM SOMEWHAT AWAKE.
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