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Description
Because Vaat and I's roleplays tend to get way out of hand. And stay that way. So while I was in Williamsburg this weekend, I doodled something to go with a little story. But I'm too lazy and in too much of a hurry to type it out right now.
So there.

----x-----
G U N P O I N T

"We have to get out of here, now!" Amy barked, leaning out into the hallway. Desmond blinked, "Why?" His question was met with a cold glare from the younger girl. "Please. We just need to get out of here, before--"

A car door slammed from outside of the house.

"Who's that, Amy?" Desmond looked down, but the girl was already half-way across the living room, carefully peeling the curtain away from one of the wide-paned windows. "Shit!" She hissed through her teeth. "Amy, what's going on--" Desmond was interrupted by her. "Let me have your car keys." Amy held out her hand.

"What? No!" Desmond gave her a look. "Desmond. There's Templars out there--Abstergo." Amy huffed, "I can drive. They won't try to kill me if they think I'm you. It's dark out. That'll help us out. Please. I can get us out of here. I..I think. I can get us out of here."

Needless to say, Desmond couldn't argue with Amy forever, and after many near-death experiences in the car, she pulled over to the side of the road, a few blocks away from the Warehouse where Lucy, Rebbecca, and Shaun were.

"I'll be back...Just...stay out of sight.." Desmond sighed, sprinting in the direction of the warehouse, leaving Amy, Vaat, and a modernly-dressed Kadar behind.

The three jumped , backing up against the side of the car when another car--black--slid to a stop a few feet away from them. The driver door opened, and a middle-aged man strode over to the trio. "Get in the car." He half growled.

"...No." Amy growled back, and instantaneously regretted ever opening her mouth. The man pulled a handgun, pointing the barrel at her, holding the weapon a few centimeters from her head. "Get. In. The. Car." He ordered.

Amy was foolish--she herself would admit that--but she certainly wasn't mad enough to argue with a firearm that was fatally close to her skull.

-----x-----

By the way.
I fail at guns.
Like.
Badly.

ANYWAY.

Character/Art(C)

Description
Because Vaat and I's roleplays tend to get way out of hand. And stay that way. So while I was in Williamsburg this weekend, I doodled something to go with a little story. But I'm too lazy and in too much of a hurry to type it out right now.
So there.

----x-----
G U N P O I N T

"We have to get out of here, now!" Amy barked, leaning out into the hallway. Desmond blinked, "Why?" His question was met with a cold glare from the younger girl. "Please. We just need to get out of here, before--"

A car door slammed from outside of the house.

"Who's that, Amy?" Desmond looked down, but the girl was already half-way across the living room, carefully peeling the curtain away from one of the wide-paned windows. "Shit!" She hissed through her teeth. "Amy, what's going on--" Desmond was interrupted by her. "Let me have your car keys." Amy held out her hand.

"What? No!" Desmond gave her a look. "Desmond. There's Templars out there--Abstergo." Amy huffed, "I can drive. They won't try to kill me if they think I'm you. It's dark out. That'll help us out. Please. I can get us out of here. I..I think. I can get us out of here."

Needless to say, Desmond couldn't argue with Amy forever, and after many near-death experiences in the car, she pulled over to the side of the road, a few blocks away from the Warehouse where Lucy, Rebbecca, and Shaun were.

"I'll be back...Just...stay out of sight.." Desmond sighed, sprinting in the direction of the warehouse, leaving Amy, Vaat, and a modernly-dressed Kadar behind.

The three jumped , backing up against the side of the car when another car--black--slid to a stop a few feet away from them. The driver door opened, and a middle-aged man strode over to the trio. "Get in the car." He half growled.

"...No." Amy growled back, and instantaneously regretted ever opening her mouth. The man pulled a handgun, pointing the barrel at her, holding the weapon a few centimeters from her head. "Get. In. The. Car." He ordered.

Amy was foolish--she herself would admit that--but she certainly wasn't mad enough to argue with a firearm that was fatally close to her skull.

-----x-----

By the way.
I fail at guns.
Like.
Badly.

ANYWAY.

Character/Art(C)