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2 yrs ago
Current descension a god roleplay is open again for new members! join the side of the immortals roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
2 yrs ago
go down on my thoughts
4 likes
2 yrs ago
LOKDIN IS BACK BABYYYYY
3 likes
2 yrs ago
vinny gambini is my spirit animal
3 likes
2 yrs ago
propane and propane accessories bender
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enfp-t capricorn slytherin
yee your haww
ancient zombie

Most Recent Posts

ayyy the gang gang's here

𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕓𝕠𝕠𝕞
ʀᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ
ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɢᴏᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋᴇɴᴅ




Time seemed to fly out the window as soon as Binx stepped foot back into the RND lab after that botched mission in Mali. Having situated herself at the workstation she aptly dubbed as her own, complete with stickers and labels informing anyone otherwise, digging herself in and not planning to resurface to the main world for anything. Agent Stanley, her own personal guardian and handler had other plans and kicked her out three days into her work, only for her to return a few days later.

The disturbing flashes and beeps emanating from the watch she was forced to wear, pulled her from her work related revere. After acknowledging the '𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐘' and promptly ignoring it did she catch a glance at the time. With a roll of her eyes, Binx was grabbing her jacket off the back of the lab chair she had been swiveling around in in the RND department and shoveling the prototypes she had been working on into her bag she was headed out the door, throwing a "See ya," over her shoulders back towards Professor MacMahon.

It wasn't long before Binx found herself standing among the others, hardly paying attention until Ben got shot. Something about an exercise to get them to perform better than they did in Mali — which was a complete shit show in it's own right. When everyone was dismissed Binx checked the package thrown to her inspecting the bomb for a make and model. Clearly not something she created herself. Specifically picked out for this exercise. A roll of her eyes and a hand through her messy hair she looked to the others. Nightstalker already dipped out of there after throwing something to Honey.

"I should be back in the lab fine tuning a shrapnel discharge, instead I'm here playin' sitter," there was no hiding the annoyance in her tone and she made no notion to conceal her volume level. Glancing around at her teammates, the ones that were still present at least, she took note that none were the leadership type and sighed. They were just gonna mess everything up. Another roll of her eyes and she stalked up to the lot of 'em slinging the package over her shoulder with ease and cocking a hip out to distribute the weight. "Aiight, looky here. Comms are live, 'Stalker listen in too." At the attention she gained she delved into a plan that should work should everyone listen and do their parts correctly.

"I ain't about to spend the rest of my Saturday cleaning up paint out the cracks of fuckin' stick on tile. Y'all follow through with the plan and shit goes smoothly. If somethin' comes along and fucks up the plan, wing it til they're on the ground askin' for mercy," Binx barked through the comms as she resituated the bags on her back. This was not how the Texan saw how her Saturday going as she climbed up the staircase of the interior, vaulting over small piles of debris left in the wake of evacuation of the building so long ago. Scanning the area provided her with a number of hiding spots to place the package, however they would be left open and vulnerable to deactivation. Not the best for her and her limited CQC. Unsure of exactly how much time was given to them to she went the safer route and assumed it was around five minutes. In that time she was able to place some modified paint claymore in the ventilation systems to counter any and all agents who decided it was best to sneak around above the rooms. Even placed some at the entrances of each stairwell as well as the entry into the building itself. All levels she could counter, she did. The best course of action for her now, was to establish a funnel and have them come to her. So, with the remaining time left Binx set to work blocking off any entry points into the center room on the second floor kitchen. Tiled walls provided a bit more stability than sheetrock alone and she was able to overturn the tables to act as additional barricades.

Stepping back wiping the sweat from her brow she admired the handiwork. It was no bunker, but it would do for now. Pulling the shotgun she snatched from the back of the van she situated herself between the wall and the fridge, pressing into the earpiece she wore in order to relay information to the team, "Hunkered down, second floor kitchen. Got discharges placed throughout the floors so, mind your step." A laugh escaped her at the thought of them setting 'em off. The comms were extremely quiet, something that irked her. Well, she did her part. Now all she had to do was wait.
𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.







interested
i am looking 👀




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