ambiguities
passionate lurker
Xavier Jacobs
Xavier Jacobs
He groaned as he struggled to get out of his seat. When the strapped had released him, Xavier delivered a hard kick to the pod's door and climbed out of it. Half way down, he only just then realized what a terrible idea this was. But it was too late to go back, he had made his choice. Once his feet touched the ground he felt the difference. Although the ground was the same back in the nebula, it felt idly comparable. Well for one, he looked under his foot. There's grass.
He looked around the area, frowning. "Of course I'd be dumped somewhere where no one is." He sighed, adjusting his bag on his shoulders. He didn't know where to go but he figured that if he just kept walking forward, he'd have nothing to lose. As he began walking, he noticed that his foot was glazed in something wet. Blood. He pulled his gun out of his bag and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. His father had taught him how to use one and trained him to be a skilled fighter before he decided to become a doctor's assistant. Although he didn't finish school, the shortage of medical staff was becoming a nuisance. So the knowledge of both was to his advantage. He continued walking, making sure to look in all directions to be aware of any incoming danger.
Xavier Jacobs
He groaned as he struggled to get out of his seat. When the strapped had released him, Xavier delivered a hard kick to the pod's door and climbed out of it. Half way down, he only just then realized what a terrible idea this was. But it was too late to go back, he had made his choice. Once his feet touched the ground he felt the difference. Although the ground was the same back in the nebula, it felt idly comparable. Well for one, he looked under his foot. There's grass.
He looked around the area, frowning. "Of course I'd be dumped somewhere where no one is." He sighed, adjusting his bag on his shoulders. He didn't know where to go but he figured that if he just kept walking forward, he'd have nothing to lose. As he began walking, he noticed that his foot was glazed in something wet. Blood. He pulled his gun out of his bag and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. His father had taught him how to use one and trained him to be a skilled fighter before he decided to become a doctor's assistant. Although he didn't finish school, the shortage of medical staff was becoming a nuisance. So the knowledge of both was to his advantage. He continued walking, making sure to look in all directions to be aware of any incoming danger.
- Inventory
-
Backpack
-Two pistols
-Bandages/gauzes
-A dagger
-A flask of vodka
-Two bottles of water
-Extra bullets
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