Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20160902215054/@comment-7262318-20170810154924

Jack sat at the front of the ship in a beat-up lawn chair, trying to relax a little bit and let the adrenaline rush wind down. Ordinarily, he wasn't one for bloody shoot ups. But this was different. Losing 20 years to the crack of a whip had changed him, he was beginning to realize.

He glanced down at his weapon, a 2 by 4 with a nail haphazardly rammed through at the top. There was the pistol he kept in his pocket, 2 clips in his pocket. And the rusty hunting knife in the other pocket. Armed to the teeth, he was.

He laughed and continued to watch the sun set.