Slip out onto the roof
From Create Your Own Story
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You noiselessly flatten yourself against the roof, or as flat as you can make yourself with your huge breasts painfully crushed beneath you, and the round globes of your bubble butt protruding behind you. You wince at the pain in your chest and wistfully remember, for the millionth time, how much easier life was when you were just a sweet, trim little thing without stuff bulging out all over the place. | You noiselessly flatten yourself against the roof, or as flat as you can make yourself with your huge breasts painfully crushed beneath you, and the round globes of your bubble butt protruding behind you. You wince at the pain in your chest and wistfully remember, for the millionth time, how much easier life was when you were just a sweet, trim little thing without stuff bulging out all over the place. | ||
| - | At any rate, judging by your landlord's facial expression, he has clearly discovered that those "gold nuggets" you paid your last month's rent in were actually hardened dog feces, | + | At any rate, judging by your landlord's facial expression, he has clearly discovered that those "gold nuggets" you paid your last month's rent in were actually hardened dog feces, dyed yellow. The two mercenaries look poorly armed, but easily strong enough to overpower you. Fortunately, they haven't spotted you. |
You sense that it may be time to go house-hunting. Heart pounding, you: | You sense that it may be time to go house-hunting. Heart pounding, you: | ||
Revision as of 09:14, 20 December 2015
You have a healthy fear of having your skull smashed in by an inaccurately thrown piece of furniture, so you decide it best to avoid passing by your neighbours' door until they've patched things up. You step out onto your window ledge and swing yourself up onto the roof of the house in one fluid motion.
You will admit that you're a poor fighter, but to survive your childhood on the streets you had to develop lightning-quick reflexes, keen spatial awareness, catlike agility and the speed to run like heck when needed. To meet you in a fair fight (you've heard of them, but they're not up your alley) an enemy has to find and catch you first. Also, you're a pacifist by principle, and you are in practise, too, almost all the time! People just don't seem to get that you're not a morning person.
As you uncomfortably recall the infamous Dawn Linguine Incident, in which you may have been involved back when you were squatting in the textile district, your heart suddenly skips a beat - it's your landlord walking down the street, accompanied by two armed thugs!
You noiselessly flatten yourself against the roof, or as flat as you can make yourself with your huge breasts painfully crushed beneath you, and the round globes of your bubble butt protruding behind you. You wince at the pain in your chest and wistfully remember, for the millionth time, how much easier life was when you were just a sweet, trim little thing without stuff bulging out all over the place.
At any rate, judging by your landlord's facial expression, he has clearly discovered that those "gold nuggets" you paid your last month's rent in were actually hardened dog feces, dyed yellow. The two mercenaries look poorly armed, but easily strong enough to overpower you. Fortunately, they haven't spotted you.
You sense that it may be time to go house-hunting. Heart pounding, you:
