.1.40.8.
- Location
- .
oh my~
.1.40.8.
It takes a little while to get your armour off (once you've quickly checked for security cameras down the alley - thank God no-one gives a crap about security in Crime City), with the unfamiliar, hidden latches (and some velcro). After a few minutes though, you're left with a small pile of fake armour, which you unceremoniously hide behind a dumpster. You'll have to pick it up before trash collection comes around, or before a hobo or drug dealer finds it. And maybe you'll have to disinfect it, too. A lot.
That done, you happily hum while dialling up Greg, the most likely member of your gang to a) have his phone on him and b) have it charged. Responsible, your friends are not.
After a few short rings, he picks up, irritation clear in his tone. "Da?"
Ooh. Russian. Not good. "Greg, my buddy, my best friend, my main man!"
"Blyad!"
"Oh. Wow. That's just rude. Hey, look, so I'm round back of the theatr-"
"You're a moron."
"This is true."
"We're a couple of streets away. Out of range of the heavy objects being THROWN AROUND by a GIANT MONSTER."
"I'm sure he's a great guy, really..."
You hear the distinct smack of a facepalm. "Alex. Idiot. Get somewhere safe. Meet up with us, go visit that witch-doctor, whatever. We've got our costumes, we'll sort things out. Just... get away from stupidly dangerous situations until you have some actual combat skills? Please?"
[ ] "All right, all right..."
-[ ] Head to the witch-doctor. The meeting's soon, anyway.
-[ ] Briefly meet up with the gang before going to the witch-doctor.
-[ ] Call the witch-doctor and put her off for today. You've got shit to do!
[ ] "Don't waaaaaanna."
-[ ] Slip back out and practice your acting and observation as a bystander.
-[ ] Hang around in the alley for a while. Gotta guard that costume!
[ ] Write in