Hot Action Akule
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- Joined
- Dec 23, 2002
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- Honolulu, Hawaii
- Website
- www.visualdesigncore.com
Im going to be editing this as i go.
The times were tough, and no one could deny this. Water was a comodony that was hard to find. And in this land, chaos knows no bounds. There were no more lawmen, and no more gunmen. All of the machines had long been exterminated. Before the missing, the world flourished. Large and vast cities spawned thousands of miles, and the world was densly populated. Then it happened. The missing. The great vanishing. Suddenly, almost everyone in the world vanished. All the vast cities were ruins. And all the machines dissappeared. The Great Vanishing. The missing.
Hero suddenly awoke from his day dream; thinking of the times before. It had been almost 160 years to the day since the missing, yet he still remembered it vibrantly. He was a tall man, with long black hair. His black, leather coat flowed in the wind, as he tipped his hat with his worn, rough, hands. He'd forgotten to shave that day; his 5-o'clock shadow was thick. He reached into his coat, and felt around for his six shooter revolver, and after he was assured it was there, with its mother-of-pearl handles, and
Will edit later im tired.
The times were tough, and no one could deny this. Water was a comodony that was hard to find. And in this land, chaos knows no bounds. There were no more lawmen, and no more gunmen. All of the machines had long been exterminated. Before the missing, the world flourished. Large and vast cities spawned thousands of miles, and the world was densly populated. Then it happened. The missing. The great vanishing. Suddenly, almost everyone in the world vanished. All the vast cities were ruins. And all the machines dissappeared. The Great Vanishing. The missing.
Hero suddenly awoke from his day dream; thinking of the times before. It had been almost 160 years to the day since the missing, yet he still remembered it vibrantly. He was a tall man, with long black hair. His black, leather coat flowed in the wind, as he tipped his hat with his worn, rough, hands. He'd forgotten to shave that day; his 5-o'clock shadow was thick. He reached into his coat, and felt around for his six shooter revolver, and after he was assured it was there, with its mother-of-pearl handles, and
Will edit later im tired.