Bug Report
Title Bug Report
Characters Seifer & Aisen
Location Their houses & a couple of Halo 3 maps
Summary Seifer really hates that mysterious player on Halo 3 that keeps killing him.
Rating PG-13 for BOOM :>
It was a fact of life that whenever Ai got depressed, he liked to blow people up in Halo under the name AntiLove90.
It wasn't a matter of discrimination, either. Anybody that was unfortunate enough to get in the sixteen year old's way was mowed over, whether by means of grenade, Needler, or rifle. Really, Ai's favorite was the one that he had nailed in the head earlier that evening; the guy on the other end had started screaming at him in French.
Hardly anything could warrant his speaking over the microphone. He always kept the headset on, but muted it. The last thing he needed was some weird dude getting off on his voice. Besides, nobody had ever made him quite mad enough to use it.
After several rounds of sitting there in his Nintendo hoodie and pajama pants, shooting at people, he curled up on his side and yawned. Normally, he'd have asked Roxas to join him, but the blonde was off creating more drama somewhere and talking to somebody and doing something interesting. While Ai could've probably done something, as well, he didn't have the energy. Nothing seemed to be worth getting up for on that particular Saturday. Not his dark hair that was in complete disarray, his stomach that growled quite audibly every now and again, or nuclear holocaust.
Slowly, he sat up, solemnly switching to a rifle and zooming in on his new target's head. His eyes went wide, however, as in perfect slow motion, a grenade came from no where and blew him up.
"Bullseye," he muttered, looking at the name of the player that had killed him.
Characters Seifer & Aisen
Location Their houses & a couple of Halo 3 maps
Summary Seifer really hates that mysterious player on Halo 3 that keeps killing him.
Rating PG-13 for BOOM :>
It was a fact of life that whenever Ai got depressed, he liked to blow people up in Halo under the name AntiLove90.
It wasn't a matter of discrimination, either. Anybody that was unfortunate enough to get in the sixteen year old's way was mowed over, whether by means of grenade, Needler, or rifle. Really, Ai's favorite was the one that he had nailed in the head earlier that evening; the guy on the other end had started screaming at him in French.
Hardly anything could warrant his speaking over the microphone. He always kept the headset on, but muted it. The last thing he needed was some weird dude getting off on his voice. Besides, nobody had ever made him quite mad enough to use it.
After several rounds of sitting there in his Nintendo hoodie and pajama pants, shooting at people, he curled up on his side and yawned. Normally, he'd have asked Roxas to join him, but the blonde was off creating more drama somewhere and talking to somebody and doing something interesting. While Ai could've probably done something, as well, he didn't have the energy. Nothing seemed to be worth getting up for on that particular Saturday. Not his dark hair that was in complete disarray, his stomach that growled quite audibly every now and again, or nuclear holocaust.
Slowly, he sat up, solemnly switching to a rifle and zooming in on his new target's head. His eyes went wide, however, as in perfect slow motion, a grenade came from no where and blew him up.
"Bullseye," he muttered, looking at the name of the player that had killed him.