Inside on his mind "Why the fuck is there poison smoke grenades in here?!"
Takes grenades,rolls of tape
Grab's a chair and throws it out the window to makes himself an exit
[1] You excitedly grab your poison smoke grenades. Eager to use them, you grab the nearest chair with four legs and prepare for window smashing.
------ROLL TO DIE------
1-2: Chair Impalement
3-4: Pest Control
5-6: Chair and Chain
[3]
You grab the nearest office chair on four legs, and line it up in front of you. Forgetting to take your finger out of the gas grenade pin after you were eyeing it, you push the chair, pulling the pin on the grenade in the process and leaving it attached to your belt. Success! It shatters the window perfectly and flies into courtyard below. You'd have been able to see all of this... if your eyes weren't swollen shut. Green veins bulge from your eyelids and your brow. The smoke is very fast acting, and you feel it inching to your heart by the second. You just need a breath of fresh air... The window is so close... You manage to pull yourself up and using the last ounce of strength left in your body, hurl yourself in a stupor towards the window. One foot trips on another, and you fall top-first into the recently shattered window, a shard severing half of your neck. Your head dangles on skin and muscle out of the window, and blood spurts down the windows of the skyscraper.
Rest in piece, Papaj.
'I BELIVE IN THE DICE!!!'
In other news... I couldn't wait for Ocean to post this turn. I just got too excited!
wait for them to shoot the mortar then control the winds so it goes back to them
"IDIOTS! I AM THE STORM!"
[5] Lt. Mega Death Copter puts his thumb in the air and the mortar launches, shooting what is... a huge gust of air? It misses you by a WIDE margin, and the two lackeys start to re-calibrate.
Compliment genie on his handiwork. See where I am.
[5 complimenting+] "Yeah... whatever." The Genie sneers. You suppose some beings just don't accept fine compliments.
The room you are in is very dark. There are headlamps hanging by string placed sparsely around the room, illuminating less than half of the floor. The floor... It's a dark green but it's hard to focus on. Any time you try to work out the intricate designs on the dark green floor, your mind wanders and your head hurts. You hear shuffling from the floor below.
Go to the office kitchen and check the fridge for a beer.
[4] You make your way to the office kitchen, either oblivious or indifferent to the loud collisions and screams heard coming from the base of the tower. You are on floor 12, the drinking floor. Everything on this floor is beer. All work is done to brew beer, all excel documents are about beer marketing and statistics, and all work is paid in - you guessed it - beer. So strolling to the fridge, you know there's a beer. You open it and voila! There's beer. [1] All beer on this floor is your least favorite kind.
A luxury motorcycle can be heard in the distance. Lt. Mega Death Chopper always hated luxury motorcycles, despite his name. He figures that anyone on a motorcycle is a bigger threat than some idiot surfing down a skyscraper, so he turns around 180 and points his gun in the direction of the annoyance.
He finds a cold silencer pressed against his sweaty forehead.
"Lt. Mega Death Chopper. My name is Dustin Hasche, and I'm commandeering this manhunt."
"What? Th-this isn't a manh-"
Lt. Mega Death Choppers brains splatter against the side of the swat van. Hasche makes eye contact with both of the two lackeys, and they focus back on calibrating the air mortar.
Hasche, clad in all black, sets forth on his mission to execute.
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Topic: Roll for rolls | It's quitting time (Read 20671 times)