—— 𝐁𝐎𝐁 !

———— ; 𝐁𝐎𝐁, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃. ——— #MARVELRP / #MVRP 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓?

He could understand the nervousness in essence. New environment, new people — it’s scary. A little hesitant, he gently took her hand and gave it a shake. “Bob,” he said, nodding. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Cue a head turn. “Sorry, ( reader. ) What was that?”

“Y-You sure? They always say that spooky things happen frequently at this time of year.”

Cue a sheepish smile. “Well, yes.”

The unexpected use of French is what caught his attention, prompting his posture to straighten slightly before he offered a sheepish smile. “Hi…”

He shook his head, seeming just as confused. “Nothing… do you think we have a ghost?”

“A loud bang, like someone throwing something at the wall rather hard.”

/ Replies are done. I’m on my way into work so activity may be sporadic until I’m done. Later, I’ll post another starter call and perhaps a more official one too 🫶🏻

>> inside. “We found this in the lab,” he said, showing it to him. “I-I don’t know what it does but… I-I think it has something to do with the tar here.”

>> struck with the memory of something else, Bob began to rifle through the pockets of his pouch searching for something. “Wait!” It was only when his fingers curled around a cold cylinder vial did he pull it out, revealing a large syringe of amber liquid >>

>> could faintly hear Boyce screaming at him to run in the forefront of his mind. “I… They got him,” he expressed in an almost defeated whisper, his head tilting up as he met John’s gaze once again. “T - They got him when we were on the way back…” As though >>

The mention of Boyce felt like ice water poured over his head, jolting him into an ugly reality that once more, a comrade had fallen within enemy territory. Slowly, Bob bowed his head, his gaze focused on the faint crimson splatter that sprayed upon his uniform as he >>

“Yeah… just… a long night.”

“Hi…” Bob said, keeping his voice softly toned as he approached, a kind smile on his face. “You been behaving for your dada?”

Such a loving sentiment is met with a tired grumble as Bob threw an arm around his waist, his head turned and resting against his chest. “Hey…”