(on_thecouch) "You should quit, yes you know, But where the hell would you go?"
Phobias. Discuss them
Ollie Durhan. Marine.
I met him when I was fifteen. We were on a mission. Not going to tell you where or why. I'm to lazy to kill anyone today. Nice guy. Wife and kid.
Dude, relax. This isn't one of those horridly depressing but supposedly uplifting war stories. No one dies. Except, well a couple of people I'd been fielded to kill. But that's not the point here. Seriously. It has very little to do with the story.
What is this about? The first time I got drunk.
Ollie? He had this thing about protecting the freaky kid that was technically in charge of the little outing we were having. Guess I was the same age as his son. Wasn't to bad. None of the dudes tried to kill me for being a brat, which I might have deserved.
So why were they getting me totally plastered? Beside to maybe shut me up? That never works, by the way.
There was a river. That was why.
Ollie got me so drunk I couldn't see straight, let alone walk on my own. He started with scotch. I honestly don't know where he got it all. I mean, my tolerance wasn't as good then, 'cause it was my first time. You know, like a virgin, but without the alarming Madonna sound track. Still would have taken a lot though.
He got me drunk and then he drug me across. I know I panicked, but I was to drunk to fight. Which was his plan. Smart guy. It was only waist deep, but knee deep would have been more than enough to tweak me. Ollie never reported it either. I could let you believe that it's just the cat DNA that makes me have a crippling fear of being in standing water, but leopards actually swim pretty well.
Really I just blame it on the multiple drownings when I was younger.
Muse: Alec McDowell/X5-494
Fandom: Dark Angel
Word count: 314
Open to RP
Ollie Durhan. Marine.
I met him when I was fifteen. We were on a mission. Not going to tell you where or why. I'm to lazy to kill anyone today. Nice guy. Wife and kid.
Dude, relax. This isn't one of those horridly depressing but supposedly uplifting war stories. No one dies. Except, well a couple of people I'd been fielded to kill. But that's not the point here. Seriously. It has very little to do with the story.
What is this about? The first time I got drunk.
Ollie? He had this thing about protecting the freaky kid that was technically in charge of the little outing we were having. Guess I was the same age as his son. Wasn't to bad. None of the dudes tried to kill me for being a brat, which I might have deserved.
So why were they getting me totally plastered? Beside to maybe shut me up? That never works, by the way.
There was a river. That was why.
Ollie got me so drunk I couldn't see straight, let alone walk on my own. He started with scotch. I honestly don't know where he got it all. I mean, my tolerance wasn't as good then, 'cause it was my first time. You know, like a virgin, but without the alarming Madonna sound track. Still would have taken a lot though.
He got me drunk and then he drug me across. I know I panicked, but I was to drunk to fight. Which was his plan. Smart guy. It was only waist deep, but knee deep would have been more than enough to tweak me. Ollie never reported it either. I could let you believe that it's just the cat DNA that makes me have a crippling fear of being in standing water, but leopards actually swim pretty well.
Really I just blame it on the multiple drownings when I was younger.
Muse: Alec McDowell/X5-494
Fandom: Dark Angel
Word count: 314
Open to RP