me and my gear

anonymous asked:

Since my courier is an angry lesbian in her early 20's she's just super weirded out by the gun & clothes Joshua gives her she's just ???? "I mean it's a nice gun and he does have a good style for a weird old dude but why the fuck would he give me this shit????" I think with a female courier it's less romantic and "hey I'm a useless gay who doesn't know how to show affection so take my clothes and my gun" and more of a "thanks go fuck the legion up for me while using my gear" Idfk

asshdhxbb i love it i love joshua having two moods either “useless gay” or “tear that shit up” thats A+ characterization

British Culture Gothic
  • Some say that his tears are adhesive, and that if he caught fire he’d burn for 1000 days. Some say that his ears aren’t exactly where you’d expect them to be, and that once, preposterously, he had an affair with John Prescott. We suddenly realise that we have no idea what the truth is. Who is the strange creature? What does he want from us? All we do know, is that he’s called The Stig.
  • It’s the year 2056. Bruce Forsyth is now 141 years old. He’s outlived his family, he’s outlived his old co-stars. He’s outlives everyone he knows. He’s outlived all of us. The apocalypse happened 10 years ago and Brucie is the only one left. He is the last man on Earth.
  • You’re in Tescos just before Election Day. You stop by the news and magazines section expecting to find some quality political analysis on the front page of your favourite paper, but all you find is rows and rows of the same image. Ed Miliband eating a bacon sandwich. At least that’s what the headline says he is doing. But you look closer. And that most certainly is not bacon.
  • You’re on the settee. You’re sort of half asleep-half scrolling Facebook for quality bants. ITV is on in the background but you haven’t been paying attention since Jezza Kyle went off. Something suddenly forces you to snap back to reality. In the corner of your eye you see an oversized white collar, thick rimmed black glasses… No, no, I thought it was over, please tell me he isn’t back, isn’t it over?? You turn to see the collar is now poking through the telly, and he’s there. Staring. There’s only one way to find out… FIGHT
  • LAD culture is taking over. Every word in the English Dictionary is quickly being replaced to include with word “bant” in it somewhere. All dinosaurs have been renamed Bantersauruses. At Christmas the only thing you can watch at the theatre is a Bantomime. Law dictates that the only things we can put in our gardens are blants, particularly of the chrysbanthemum variety. We don’t even wear normal underwear anymore. We literally wear bants. 
  • I wonder what ever happened to Dec, you wonder as you watch Ant presenting Britain’s Got Talent solo. You’re suddenly very aware that you haven’t seen him in a while, but Ant has never mentioned where his counterpart has gone. But wait. Ant looks different. The more you stare at his face the more obvious it becomes, but somehow only you can see it. Dec is trapped inside Ant’s massive forehead.
  • It’s been a long time since Freddos were 10p. A long time. And the price of them is no long a humorous topic used to express faux-indignation at the ever rising cost of living. They are a sad subject now, and it is deemed rude to even bring up the topic of Freddos in good company. Every time your gazes flickers to the £1 label beneath the untouched stack of Freddos at Morrisons, you die a little bit inside, a tear rolls down your cheek.
Uncoiling All Of My Plans

Context: I dm a group of players in a heavily homebrewed game and we were coming to their characters end of the mission sequence so that they could make new characters and all of that. One of my friends used to play an elven bars that never really did much, but they always collected items that boosted charisma.

They make it to the cave entrance

Me: you come across a large cave entrance and-

Bard: I’m going to start drinking all of my charisma potions as we walk down.

Me: ok go ahead then.

Final fight rolls around:

Me: as you walk into the end of the cave, you are met by… the bones of ancient dragon. You see a woman riding atop the creature, staring down at you all.

Me as Boss: Leave here, retched creatures. You need not know the power that you try to best.

Me OOC: everyone roll initiative

The elven bard gets the highest initiative.

Bard: Why leave now when I’m struck by your everlasting beauty?

Bard OOC: and I say that to seduce her

Me OOC: I mean if you want to… roll everything plus those potions you’ve been drinking. How many of those did you have?

Bard: 287…

Me: *wideyed* what?

Bard: yeah… plus I have all my charisma gear… my whole armor set is dedicated to boosting my charisma…

After a solid minute or rolling all of his die

Bard: the final score comes down to… 363

Me: I still have to roll a check to see if she defeats that score…

*rolls Nat 1*

Me: YOU CHARISMATIC ELVEN SON OF A GNOMISH WHORE!!!!

Long story short, they married and had 8 children…

Videogame: This next mission requires stealth.

Me: Okay, I need to be patient, think tactfully, keep my movements slow and steady, study the enemy behaviour carefully, analyze my surroundings, and take advantage of any cover or hiding spots I have available.

Enemy: Discovers Me.

Me:

Originally posted by giampierinoillestofante

Okay but

AU where everything is the same except the shield is an artifact like Mjolnir. Maybe it’s a long-lost Asgardian thing, maybe it’s some other non-Earth object. Point is, the shield is enchanted so that it only obeys the will of the wielder if their primary goal is protection. It’s just about impenetrable, can absorb any shocks, and strong enough to cut through or destroy just about anything–which would make it a perfect weapon, if anyone could figure out how to fucking use the thing. It doesn’t obey any laws of physics or movement as we know it, and SSR spends years experimenting with it until they finally give up and stick it in a crate somewhere. 

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