Nainstalovat Steam
přihlásit se
|
jazyk
简体中文 (Zjednodušená čínština)
繁體中文 (Tradiční čínština)
日本語 (Japonština)
한국어 (Korejština)
ไทย (Thajština)
български (Bulharština)
Dansk (Dánština)
Deutsch (Němčina)
English (Angličtina)
Español-España (Evropská španělština)
Español-Latinoamérica (Latin. španělština)
Ελληνικά (Řečtina)
Français (Francouzština)
Italiano (Italština)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonéština)
Magyar (Maďarština)
Nederlands (Nizozemština)
Norsk (Norština)
Polski (Polština)
Português (Evropská portugalština)
Português-Brasil (Brazilská portugalština)
Română (Rumunština)
Русский (Ruština)
Suomi (Finština)
Svenska (Švédština)
Türkçe (Turečtina)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamština)
Українська (Ukrajinština)
Nahlásit problém s překladem
Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. He can seldom close his eyes without opening them again at fear of Charlies lurking in the jungle trees. Not that you could ever see the bastards, mind you. They were swift, and they knew their way around the jungle like nothing else. He remembers the looks on the boys' faces as he walked into that village and... oh, Jesus. The memories seldom left him, either. Sometimes he'd reminisce - even hear - Tex's southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes like nothing else. He always kept a pack of Lucky's with him. The boys are gone, now. He knows that; it's just that he forgets, sometimes. And, every now and then, the way that seven looks at him with avid concern in his eyes... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. Makes him feel like he's back there... in the jungle.
⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣶⣕⣈⠹⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⣛⢋⣰⠣⣿⣿⠀⣿
⣿⣿⣿⡀⣿⣿⣿⣧⢻⣿⣶⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠶⡝⠀⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣷⠘⣿⣿⣿⢏⣿⣿⣋⣀⣈⣻⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣿⡐⢿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⢩⣝⣫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠿⠿⠦⠀⠸⠿⣻⣿⡄⢻
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⣼
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣰
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿
⣿⣿⣿⠋⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⣿
⣿⣿⠋⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸
⣿⠏⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡯⢸
🌕🌕🌕🌘🌑🌑🌑🌒🌕🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌗🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌔🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌘🌑🌔🌕🌖🌑🌓🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌑🌔🌕🌕🌕🌖🌒🌕🌕
🌕🌖🌑🌑🌔🌕🌖🌑🌑🌕🌕
🌕🌖🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌕🌕
🌕🌖🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌕🌕
🌕🌖🌑🌑🌑🌒🌑🌑🌑🌕🌕
🌕🌖🌑🌑🌓🌕🌗🌑🌑🌕🌕
🌖🌑🌑🌑🌓🌘🌑🌑🌑🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕
I wear black cardigans, verbally assault women, and physically assault my friends. When I look in the mirror, I can't help but say "戦い, 戦い" (which means fight, fight in american.) I grew my hair out long because I don't care so now I have to wear it in a bun and I don't care what people think so shut ♥♥♥♥ up Hange! I always leave an open wound on my hand, and go out of my way to show it to everyone so they are reminded that I am in control. When I see dogs being taken on walks I get mad at them for not being free like I am. I can't have sex with my girlfriend anymore without forcing her to dress up as Mikasa or Historia, both of whom remind me of Armin. When I order fast food, I refuse to call them french fries and insist on calling them freedom fries. I just keep moving forward, until my enemies are destroyed.