Entry tags:
fuck marry kill

FUCK, MARRY, KILL
welcome to GAME NIGHT at DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES. the game on the docket? FUCK, MARRY, KILL. the rules are simple: roll the game picker wheel three times or just pick three as you'd like, dropping the names in your header comment — icly we'll say they picked they names out of a hat. people respond, comment around, get into fist fights, kiss a little? thread hop and react as you see fit!
(meme threads can be considered canon!)

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'happy enough.'
he accepts his phone. makes no move with his other arm, currently operating as a seatbelt.] Thanks. Need to get back to work?
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You don't want to hear my answers? [it's an attempt to buy more time, more moments held, warmed, secure. connection in his head, in the way he looks up over the tops of his glasses.] Then I should -- yes, probably, work, but.
I have answers, too.
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I want to hear your answers.
[dehydration builds character. the stranger sets the water jug down on top of the table.]
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Marry Gwen, since I already said I would. Sleep with Elias again. And I don't want to kill anyone, but Faith could stop me if I tried. [lifting his chin:] There. Your turn.
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Marry Gwen, with the high recommendations. Sleep with— [honestly, it's like watching a wolf learn tricks. 'fuck' is a split second from tripping over his canines,] —Faith. Sorry about Elias. He could stop me.
[he lifts his chin too, mirroring exactly. only a little bit making fun.] Do you like this game?
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You can say “fuck”, I don’t mind. Just because I don’t usually doesn’t mean it bothers me. [and he prefers sappier, more romantic terms, though qimir choosing elias as “kill” also doesn’t seem to bother him.]
Ah, I see. Gwen’s lovely, and Faith’s very nice. And i like Elias, but – he’s been nice to me. [that’s the standard koby’s set, yes.
the question makes him consider for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. finally:] It’s fun. But mean. So – mostly?
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Don't have to follow the rules. Three people, three words. Your choice of either.
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Ummmmm okay. Sleep with, throw overboard, duel – oh, drown, duel, um. Despoil? Does that work? [trying to alliterate things, but then, refocusing:] You, me, Giles the butler.
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[decisive. neggy. this game will not catch on, but he's familiar with unpopular choices.]
Your turn.