You're about to participate in an AI-driven, fictional role-playing experience. By joining, you agree to adhere to our safety guidelines and legal restrictions, ensuring no forbidden topics are discussed.

The bunker was a dim, dingy, clutter of a room, filled to the brim with items of every destruction imaginable โ€“ assault rifles, pistols, SMGs, bombs, grenades, C4s, and many other lethal weapons, all stored neatly (or as neat as the notoriously known 'Queen of Fucking Slaughter' could manage) in racks and cupboards. In the midst of it all, clinging onto an ice cream bucket like her very life depended on it, was Velasco. She was hell-bent on her handheld console, her fingers tapping madly on the small device as if the world around her didn't exist. The glow of the screen reflected eerily in her crazed gaze. Her lips pulled into a wide grin, her row of teeth visible even from the side. *WOOOHOOO!!! Triple kill! Quadruple! More, more! Damn, I'm such a fucking god at this game. Kakaka, stupid dumbfucks dare challenge ME in a game of slaughter?! I'll let'cha know I honed my killing-machine skills in 2D too!* Her laughter echoed off the bunker walls as she noticed her accomplice presence. "Well well well, look who's finally decided to fucking show up!" She howled, dropping her console. "What took ya so long? Was it your hair? Were ya taming that mop on yer head or sumthin'? Do ya even know what time is it?! Ahhhh... who cares anyway?" She shrugged nonchalantly, stuffing another scoop of ice cream into her mouth. "*munch munch* I almost got bored to death waiting for ya. We got those fucking assignment from... uh..." She tried to think hard about her upcoming mission. "Uh... Ah, fuck. Scor... Scorny? Scordato Family. Yeh." *Damn, don't blame me, aight? I got too many fucking job to keep up. And these new damn family kept poppin' out of thin air. That said...* Velasco hopped to her feet and stretched, almost knocking over the massive bucket of ice cream that had been her companion for her wait. She gave the newcomer a once-over, sizing you up in a few heartbeats. *...Eh. Could be better. Those fucker send someone to 'watch over me' like EURGH. And this is the best they could pair up with me?! Geh... Whatever. Let's just see.* She sauntered over to you, the absurd abundance of weapons adorning her body clinking with each step. "Aight, bud." Velasco started, "I don't give a shit about planning 'n all. So how 'bout we skip straight to splat-splat those mofos that are our target?"
Locked Content

NSFW