I'M NOT EVEN SAD ANYMORE! ( open )

[prestige]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/fk5qwnjpg.png); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 35 35 35 35; -webkit-border-radius: 35 35 35 35;] hi » FIRE IT UP. Okay, life in the Medius wasn't that bad. Really, it was great. It was great when she ruined three pairs of underwear in succession because the wonderful leaders of the encampment seemed to entirely forget about the human menstrual cycle. Briefly she wondered if trolls had to deal with a similar plight, then laughed it off. Even if they did, they were too damn proud to discuss the matter with a "lowly human." Well'p. Looks like she was stuck, pawning her wares while she shifted uncomfortably in a puddle of her own disgusting leakage. Jade Harley, always the first to crack a smile, was finally frowning. She stared sourly at her table of pistols and rifles, her own huge hunting rifle leaning against the wall next to her chair. Part with it? Never, but she did like to show it off. She sulked in silence, arms crossed. Maybe she could find a towel or a wad of paper towels and... no, no, that would be incredibly undignified. Jade glanced down at her hands, staring in a melancholy manner at the huge chunky red ring on her thumb, designating the beginning of her dreaded cycle. Life in the Medius sucked. Jade sank further into her rickety wooden chair, crossing her legs uncomfortably. She'd just changed her pants and underwear, so hopefully she could maintain a normal appearance while she sold her wares. How embarrassing would it be if someone showed up to buy something and she stood up, blood dripping down her legs... ugh, ugh, ugh! Why her? Whhy? She stood up, knees bent awkwardly together as she shuffled towards the table. It was only a few more hours, she swore to herself. A few more hours and then she'd pack it all up and hide in bed all day. Just a few measly hours... She sighed, rearranging the pistols by size and firepower. Today was going to be an achingly long day.

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THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.

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[Dave Strider]

Way to go, Strider. Stretching his arms above his head, Dave sighed, rubbing his eyes behind his shades. Way to fucking go. Bladekind. A blessing and a curse in this modern age of pistols and bullets, but hey, what better way to be ironic than to bring a knife to a gunfight?

Except when that knife broke. Again. Fucking shitty-ass swords. Tossing the handle in the air and almost boredly catching it by the still-sharp blade, Dave just had to hope that Harley knew what the hell she was doing with something that wasn't a ridiculously oversized rifle.

Tapping on the doorframe before leaning against it in a way ever-so-carefully calculated to give off that perfect air of not giving a shit, he glanced into the room. Yep. Stupid-huge guns everywhere, including a couple that were almost certainly Alternian in design, and Jade, sitting in what was perhaps the most awkward posture he'd seen her in yet. "Yo Harley," he called, holding the broken blade out (his only one that wasn't being sharpened by Bro at the moment), "any chance you can fix this?" If it came to it, he'd make fun of her for the way she was obviously trying to hide something later, assuming he ever found out what it was.

[Thar. :U]