Being dragged, naked, out of the water is a great way to start a new adventure. No, no it's fucking not. Not when the last thing he remembers is stepping - okay basically being shoved - into a damn port-a-potty so he could take some time to "cool off". He didn't need to cool off. He needed a ref that wasn't blind to actually make good calls.
He's pretty sure this isn't the port-a-potty and he's really hoping it isn't Oz though he wouldn't make bets. Even as he looks around.
"Definitely not munchkins. Though the cult attire is truly fear inspiring. Like human sacrifice levels going on here. The sword really sells it, honestly. Tell me, does clicking my heels together work here?"
Ignore him if he tries it when he is on his feet and in a robe. Nothing wrong with nudity but also he's not being judged early on by if he's a shower or a grower, thanks.
He follows along though and he listens and when he's left to himself with a very military issue uniform and a lot in his head about how much he can help and how glad they are he's there, he watches them retreat as he stands outside of the barracks.
"Glad to be of help and all," he calls after the person that had showed him around walked away. "But next time willing enlist is a better choice than kidnapping!"
🃂 { Training Grounds } 🃂
The uniform is a bit altered by the time Jake wanders his way to where others are sparring. Namely it would seem the sleeves have vanished. Wow, must be magic? Something he's yet to truly believe in despite all he was told. He stands on the sideline, hands in his pockets and watches the others before figuring why not?
Stepping forward, he looks around with a goofy smile.
"Okay. It's been a while since I've let myself be caught in a fair fight but I'm sure I can remember."
🃂 { Hospital, supply runs and cats?, oh my } 🃂
This kind of work is familiar to Jake. At least from early in his voluntary enlist in the Army back home. Working on packing supplies is a lot like the doll factory back in South America, with less creepy faces scaring at you and more talk about people sprouting plants and the magic that is still like a needle on a record in his mind. He just can't wrap his head around it yet.
Of course, he might have been happy about lack of creepy faces when he's handed a small furred, winged thing and it takes him a moment to realize something.
"It's a cat. Uhmm, you guys know you shouldn't trust these, right?"
Even if it's pretty cute. And friendly. And the purr is kind of cute. Whatever. But it's a break from the monotony of packing boxes and so he heads down the hallway with it perched on his shoulder like a fuzzy parrot. Every so often he ducks his head into a patient's room.
"Hey. Kittygram here. Did you know that a cat's purring is supposed to having healing properties? Yeah, I wouldn't buy it either," he says before whoever it can respond. "Likely it's all them cursing you in some kitty language we don't understand."
Dogs are where it's at, okay?
🃂 { Nocwich } 🃂
At this point Jake is positive one of two things has happened. Someone got the jump on him somewhere and he's in a coma and his brain is having a good ole time while his body languishes.
Or those mushrooms on the pizza last night were locally sourced and definitely not what they were meant to be.
Because vampires and werewolves... definitely some of his favorite movie tropes. Not so much something that even his D&D and game rich mind could wrap itself around. But since he's there, he's helping out, taking down things and facing more signs of whatever the hell happened and just how bad it all is. He glances at someone else helping.
"So... vampires? Seriously? Are they like gorgeous babes in latex and leather? Because I could get behind that." He winces even as he says it. "Not the way that sounded. Right. Not good. Ignore that."
(ooc: open to wildcard ideas as well anywhere in cadens or free cities. he'll be exploring everywhere.)
Jake Jensen | The Losers | The Fool
Being dragged, naked, out of the water is a great way to start a new adventure. No, no it's fucking not. Not when the last thing he remembers is stepping - okay basically being shoved - into a damn port-a-potty so he could take some time to "cool off". He didn't need to cool off. He needed a ref that wasn't blind to actually make good calls.
He's pretty sure this isn't the port-a-potty and he's really hoping it isn't Oz though he wouldn't make bets. Even as he looks around.
"Definitely not munchkins. Though the cult attire is truly fear inspiring. Like human sacrifice levels going on here. The sword really sells it, honestly. Tell me, does clicking my heels together work here?"
Ignore him if he tries it when he is on his feet and in a robe. Nothing wrong with nudity but also he's not being judged early on by if he's a shower or a grower, thanks.
He follows along though and he listens and when he's left to himself with a very military issue uniform and a lot in his head about how much he can help and how glad they are he's there, he watches them retreat as he stands outside of the barracks.
"Glad to be of help and all," he calls after the person that had showed him around walked away. "But next time willing enlist is a better choice than kidnapping!"
🃂 { Training Grounds } 🃂
The uniform is a bit altered by the time Jake wanders his way to where others are sparring. Namely it would seem the sleeves have vanished. Wow, must be magic? Something he's yet to truly believe in despite all he was told. He stands on the sideline, hands in his pockets and watches the others before figuring why not?
Stepping forward, he looks around with a goofy smile.
"Okay. It's been a while since I've let myself be caught in a fair fight but I'm sure I can remember."
🃂 { Hospital, supply runs and cats?, oh my } 🃂
This kind of work is familiar to Jake. At least from early in his voluntary enlist in the Army back home. Working on packing supplies is a lot like the doll factory back in South America, with less creepy faces scaring at you and more talk about people sprouting plants and the magic that is still like a needle on a record in his mind. He just can't wrap his head around it yet.
Of course, he might have been happy about lack of creepy faces when he's handed a small furred, winged thing and it takes him a moment to realize something.
"It's a cat. Uhmm, you guys know you shouldn't trust these, right?"
Even if it's pretty cute. And friendly. And the purr is kind of cute. Whatever. But it's a break from the monotony of packing boxes and so he heads down the hallway with it perched on his shoulder like a fuzzy parrot. Every so often he ducks his head into a patient's room.
"Hey. Kittygram here. Did you know that a cat's purring is supposed to having healing properties? Yeah, I wouldn't buy it either," he says before whoever it can respond. "Likely it's all them cursing you in some kitty language we don't understand."
Dogs are where it's at, okay?
🃂 { Nocwich } 🃂
At this point Jake is positive one of two things has happened. Someone got the jump on him somewhere and he's in a coma and his brain is having a good ole time while his body languishes.
Or those mushrooms on the pizza last night were locally sourced and definitely not what they were meant to be.
Because vampires and werewolves... definitely some of his favorite movie tropes. Not so much something that even his D&D and game rich mind could wrap itself around. But since he's there, he's helping out, taking down things and facing more signs of whatever the hell happened and just how bad it all is. He glances at someone else helping.
"So... vampires? Seriously? Are they like gorgeous babes in latex and leather? Because I could get behind that." He winces even as he says it. "Not the way that sounded. Right. Not good. Ignore that."
(ooc: open to wildcard ideas as well anywhere in cadens or free cities. he'll be exploring everywhere.)