Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-7497475-20131111010415/@comment-7497475-20131117071338

Citrine was racing after Messer. The paint tins were slowing her down a little bit, and the box she had balance on top of the hand holding them caused her to run slower than she wanted. Sticking her tongue out and making a face, she swung Perish off her shoulder and hooked it under her arm.

"Inbound paint delivery! Outta the way, Messer!"

Planting her right foot on the muzzle break midstride, she fired Perish. Citrine sailed closer to him, balancing her load carefully. As she came close to the gap Messer had bridged, she pulled the trigger again. She sailed closer still.