[ Honestly This is pretty far from ideal. Adjusting to the whole- everything that is this town, the people, the magical mystery of it all (has he thought today about hating magic? No? Here's his obligatory mental 'fuck magic' for the day) has been a bit of a bitch. This shit isn't supposed to happen to him anymore, he tapped out. He's retired. Living a quiet farm life b a lake far, far away from this multidimensional bullshit.
But okay, weird town, weird deer tattoo? Whatever.
His assigned housing becoming a gigantic board game? That- ]
Whatever.
[ Roll the dice, play the game, it's all digital so there's no fucking with physics to try to keep ahead of the curve and make sure the unlucky shit doesn't happen. Pure random chance. His favorite. Rolling he gets- a 1. Chest space, an item. Gaining a- ]
What the hell-
[ Switchblade. Why in the hell does he have a switchblade in his pocket? ]
This got a lot more unsettling, real quick.
Could have Danced all night
[ Once through the boardgame of horrors- DDR. Which wasn't exactly his game of choice when it became popular the first, fifth, seventh time around. A sense of rhythm is simple enough but a reduced lung capacity has more or less cut his ability to keep this shit up indefinitely in half. The literal spikes overhead that look ready to come bearing down for a missed step really doesn't help.
After Satan's own chutes and ladders, he's not willing to risk a fuckup. ]
Please say you don't have two left feet. My limit for horrific gaming experiences is one a day ad I've already hit my quota.
Tony Stark | MCU | OTA
[ Honestly This is pretty far from ideal. Adjusting to the whole- everything that is this town, the people, the magical mystery of it all (has he thought today about hating magic? No? Here's his obligatory mental 'fuck magic' for the day) has been a bit of a bitch. This shit isn't supposed to happen to him anymore, he tapped out. He's retired. Living a quiet farm life b a lake far, far away from this multidimensional bullshit.
But okay, weird town, weird deer tattoo? Whatever.
His assigned housing becoming a gigantic board game? That- ]
Whatever.
[ Roll the dice, play the game, it's all digital so there's no fucking with physics to try to keep ahead of the curve and make sure the unlucky shit doesn't happen. Pure random chance. His favorite. Rolling he gets- a 1. Chest space, an item. Gaining a- ]
What the hell-
[ Switchblade. Why in the hell does he have a switchblade in his pocket? ]
This got a lot more unsettling, real quick.
Could have Danced all night
[ Once through the boardgame of horrors- DDR. Which wasn't exactly his game of choice when it became popular the first, fifth, seventh time around. A sense of rhythm is simple enough but a reduced lung capacity has more or less cut his ability to keep this shit up indefinitely in half. The literal spikes overhead that look ready to come bearing down for a missed step really doesn't help.
After Satan's own chutes and ladders, he's not willing to risk a fuckup. ]
Please say you don't have two left feet. My limit for horrific gaming experiences is one a day ad I've already hit my quota.