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[starwhore]

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[starwhore]

Probably cause you're thinking too much about it.

[Speaking of--]

...

You know maybe I'm not the best person to talk to about Bones. His pals are here, known him a lot longer than me.

[barebacking]

Bones?

I suppose that is what he's become. Bones in our memories. Skeletal workings. Pieces that we remember. A finger that we've put upon a necklace to place around our necks to remember.

But no, I've come to ask you for bullets.

[starwhore]

Yeah, nickname of his. What Jim called him too.

Wait.

Bullets? What do bullets have to do with the doc?

[barebacking]

I never knew. What a sweet name.

[ ... ]

Nothing. They have to do with you. I hope.

[starwhore]

Sure I guess?

Like if I have any? Cause I don't, sorry, man. Kinda gun I use doesn't use normal bullets. Not really bullets at all actually. Pew pew lasers and energy and stuff.

[barebacking]

There are more than one kind of bullet?

Why?

[starwhore]

There are all sorts of guns, man. So there are all types of bullets. Big ones, small ones, itty ones. Some aren't made of metal or copper or what not, like I've got two quad blasters, they use energy and lasers instead, uhhh basically I shoot lightning from my guns.

[How do explain.]

But yeah, depends on what kinda gun you're getting the bullets for.

[1/3]

[barebacking]

[He sent me on a wild goose chase.

He sent me on a task that I could not properly complete.

I should cut out that silver tongue of his and force him to eat it with the bloody mess that is left!]

[barebacking]

[No, no.

I like him very much.

And friendship is more important than punishment.

Isn't it?

Yes.

Probably.]

[barebacking]

Oh dear.

I had no idea. I was about to get my friend something that he may not be able to use.

What an embarrassing situation.

[4/4] SURPRISE DONE

[barebacking]

I suppose it is my fault, anyway.

I didn't think to ask anything beyond that he needed ammo. I hope that whatever I find is something that he can use ... as I'm far too ashamed to bother him, again.

gasp

[starwhore]

Wouldn't it be more shameful to bring the wrong thing though?

[That's right. Use that fancy talk back at him. Saying shameful is not fancy talk, Peter.]

[barebacking]

I suppose it would.

There's little chance that he has that gun and we may not be able to find it.

[starwhore]

Wait so you're trying to find bullets for a gun that might not even exist?

[barebacking]

Even though I have no intention of bedding him, I do want him to like me.

[starwhore]

[This whole conversation escalated very quickly.]

Maybe you should look into getting him flowers? Some chocolates? Write him a poem?

[barebacking]

Flowers are cheap. Chocolates may work. Poetry would not be the best idea. The way that my words weave and dance and play upon the page can ... be a little troubling to others.

I can't imagine why.

[starwhore]

Don't know, man, don't really know you that well. Could always draw him a picture.

Or see what else he likes besides bullets. Maybe go have a drink with him? There's a place up in Northtown, little bar with a pool table, play some pool.

[barebacking]

I fear we have not reached that part in our friendship.

Perhaps, I am trying too hard? Perhaps, it looks like I love him more than -- I don't, you know. If he asked, I would -- pool?

[starwhore]

Haha, I don't know if you're trying too hard, I think you're just thinking waaaay too hard about it. Getting yourself worked up.

But games are a good way of making friends. Pool is fun, even if you don't know what you're doing. Trust me, I'm garbage at it, totally. You use sticks to hit balls into holes on a table. Sounds boring, can be great, especially with a drink or two.

[barebacking]

I do suppose that I am. And it is never good when I get worked up.

[He tilts his head. He imagines just regular sticks and various sized balls that one strikes at the side to hit into holes all around a table. How can one be garbage at such a game?] Well, it sounds fun and simple enough.

[starwhore]

[Very easily, Yaha. So easily. Sucking is easy, being good is hard.]

Simple in theory, but there's a lotta skill to it. Skill I don't have. [Yes, he can admit it. He's a big boy. Sometimes.]

Still, real fun to play with people, no matter how good or bad you are.

[barebacking]

I am certain you are skillful in other ways. [Able to make a psychotic elf chill with just a few words, for one.]

Does that mean you want to play with me?

[starwhore]

Ha! Course I am. Everyone's got skills, dude. I'm not a legendary outlaw for now reason. [Peter stop being proud of that. Also you are not legendary.]

You know, any other time I'd say yes, but kinda hurt one of my arms recently, so I'd be even more shit than I already am. What about a rain check?

[barebacking]

A legendary outlaw? You? I must say I doubt it. You seem much too nice.

Hm? Your arm? What did you do, Peter?