Board Thread:Role Play Discussion/@comment-24435042-20140717210338/@comment-24260323-20140729032056

"Fine, fine," Ferron bantered on in his drunken stupor.

With the elegant coordination of a rampaging rhinoceros, he tried to down the last bottle of beer before collapsing onto the table in front of him, and falling asleep...

He found himself in a trench alongside a heavily bleeding soldier. Quickly removing the tools from his kit, he began to unroll some gauze to stop the bleeding when his prosthetic arm fell to pieces.

The black fingers rolled on the ground like dice on a table while the larger black pieces fell into a neat pile beside him.