i've been keeping Barnaby x vending machine logs
no specific order or timing to these
/me steps up to the vending machine with gleaming emerald eyes behind his shiny glasses. He raises his right hand up to his head only to press his glasses up his nose with a single fingertip that pressed up the middle of his spectacles. That same hand soon went to rest on top of the vending machine, where it unconciously rubbed the wood furnishing across the top. Barnaby Jones stares through the glass infront of him, his hot breath slowly exhaling onto it and causing it to fog up. He lifts his left hand up to wipe away at the fog, and then he would peer past the glass plane into the machine across each of the snacks.. examing each snack by one. His eyes hold on the Nelson Mandela bar at the bottom for 1.75 credits.
/me lets out a deep exhale of slight tension and or possibly crippling depression, all as he brought the pay-stub for his credit bank to work the vending machine. It would beep that it accepted the credits and asked for what he wants. His big index finger slapped it's fingertip to the machine, typing in G2- the numbers for the well renown Nelson Mandela bar he so longed for. He stood there, standing in anx- his large eyes staring down at it slowly going towards the glass plane. The spring moved slowly, too slowly- it was a heated moment for Barnaby. He let out a gasp as a loud thud was heard- but it wasn't the bar hitting the deposit box, the bar slapped against the glass plane and held there- stuck at a angle and not going down.
/me brings his big foot up from the ground- holding in the air at a angle. He peers his head downwards to his feet- spending a moment staring at the shiny black boots that adorned the man's feet. Barnaby's eyebrows squinted inwards as he visibly stared hard at his feet in thought. His head flicked upwards, violently enough that his glasses lifted up from the bridge of his nose- making him spend a moment to place a fingertip on his glasses to push them back up his nose. Without a moment to waste his right foot was flying towards the bottom of the vending machine at ludricious speeds- THUMP - it fucking echoes out as the wood of the vending machine is faced with pure ass kicking potenial. The candy bar jumps up in the machine and falls to the deposit box quickly, landing with a thud.
/me huffed a exhale as his M-8 Avenger rifle fall out of his big hands, where it was saved by the sling wrapped around his body. It hung in the sling, leaving his hands free. His left hand went to his trousers as he pulled out the wrapper of a Nelson Mandela bar. It was clearly half eaten, and there was more to finish inside the wrapper. His right hand goes to the package, and the two together split the package in half to expose the nude chocolate bar for Barnaby to pick up and bring to his mouth.
/me lets out a exhale as he slips behind the Krogans to reach the wooden vending machine. His breath hits the window plane and causes it to fog, and in return Barnaby lifts his left arm up to wipe its sleeve across the surface- where a even cleaner view inside was had now. His emerald eyes squinted behind his glasses as he stared at his normal pick of the day, the Nelson Mandela bars on G2. "Uhhhhhh..." He said aloud, debating if he wanted to spice it up for a single trip to the vending machine.
/me leaned forward, pressing his smooth forehead to the glass of the vending machine. His hands come up in the air and rest his big palms on the wood furnishing on either side of the machine, holding him up as he stared at the now very close snacks. Who reads these fucking /me's. Barnaby lets his right hand slide down the furnishing of the wood to the keypad, where his fingertip slides over the buttons.... G....3.... Shit he hit 3 instead of 2 _ ( to be resumed. )
/me made a inaudible gasp to himself as he intently stared at the spring moving on the Catholic Crunch Bar that resided next to his normal snack, Nelson Mandela bars, at the G3 spot. "Fuck." He whispered to himself as Barnaby took a fat step back from the vending machine, so he can view his fuck up moving in the form of the Catholic Crunch Bar slowly moving forward to the window plane- soon to descend down into the deposit box with a thump.
/me eats candy
/me lowers his side-arm, the M-3, into it's rightful place at his side into it's holster. The pistol's scabbard shakes a little from the harsh placing, but ultimately stops moving. Barnaby quickly brings up his right hand to smack it onto the keypad violently, where his trained fingers place his pay-stub into the vending machines receiver. After a quick 'beep' comes into his ears, signalling that his credits were taken, he would dart his fingertips to smash those fucking buttons he knew so well- buttons so smashed they began to fade. G... 2... and the Nelson Mandela bar started to move closer to the glass plane of the vending machine to be pusshed over the edge like a emo girl, into the deposit bin below for Barnaby to get.
/me lowers his M-8 avenger rifle from his big hands, letting it fall into it's sling and hang infront of him. The short black individual known as Barnaby lowers a gloved right hand into his trouser's pocket as he removes out a Nelson Mandela bar, fulled wrapped in reconigizable bright and enviromentally unhealthy wrapping. He would procede to gently cut one end of the wrapper with two fingers, and strip the chocolate goodness from it's shell. He holds the bar with two fingers and lets the wrapper fall to the ground of the planet. The only thing left in his hand is the nude bar, of which he starts to eat slowly.
/me leans up against the wall at the captains quarters as he watched the stairs leading up to the bridge where the majority of the crew remained in a intense fire-fight. Donny dropped his left hand from holding onto his thermal clip to slip it into his trouser's pocket, where it removed out a chocolate bar wrapped in a plastic material. It named itself Nelson Mandela. Donny bit at the edges of the wrapper of his candy bar, tearing it open with his teeth before he started to eat it.
