George looks over to Frank, "Whaddya mean hide it? You mean you served in 'Nam and can't recognize the stock of one of these beauts when you see it? The thing was pokin' out for the entire trip."
Viktor tapped Rodney on the shoulder. "Stay sharp, comrade." He handed a spare Makarov PM to Rodney before moving on to the next room, stopping at a bunk in one of the corners. He dropped his backpack onto it and made a thorough check of it before unpacking his items onto the lower bunk bed.
While humming to the Soviet anthem he began assembling his VSS Vintorez with extreme care and precision while also making sure his chestrig was stocked up.
Voronov glances up occasionally, watching the Americans talk amongst each other, as she pieces together two more weapons. A Dragunov, and an RPKS. She finishes them, and sets them aside as she begins to load their magazines.
Her mission here was to find and kill someone for Mother Russia. She honestly could care less about everyone else, but she'd try her best to be friendly to her 'comrades-in-arms' here during her stay. It'll make life sooo much easier. She takes another drink from her glass, before continuing to load her magazines.
[Missed Viper's post, woops]
Rodney takes the Makarov and watches as Viktor goes past. "Shit, thanks."
"I don't make it a habit to stare at other people's luggage." Frank said as he was pouring himself a beer. "Besides, it's not like I got much use of the thing back in the bushes."
"Damn, some you better armed then the soldiers back in Poland." Aleksy commented as the rest of his crew begin to unveil off their equipment.
"Well I better well join in this little showoff." Aleksy said as he pulled the duffle bag over his shoulder and laid it down on the counter, causing the rotted wood to cracked under the wight of it.
"Don't know if it's going to be very useful in this kind of work, but you never know in this shit hole." He said with an smirked, slowly unzipping the duffle bag to reveal an worn RPG-18 anti tank weapon.
Johnny takes his bag, sits on a stool and puts it on the counter, he takes out the AKSU-74 parts and proceeds to assemble it, "Hopefully I wont have to use this from day one" he mutters under his breathe.
George eyed the anti-tank weapon, "Ain't that just a commie knockoff of the LAW?"
[This is slowly turning into a gun convention. :v:]
[QUOTE=Viper123_SWE;49686512][This is slowly turning into a gun convention. :v:][/QUOTE]
[/k/ the RP]
[QUOTE=SniperComZero;49686520][/k/ the RP][/QUOTE]
[I am perfectly ok with this. Doom, we need /k/ontracts]
Kevin takes out his Saturday Night Special, checks to see if it's loaded, and puts it back.
[Guns for the Gun Godz]
[editline]6th February 2016[/editline]
Voronov finally finishes, then reaches into her bag and draws out one last object. A trench knife, which she takes and slips into her boot. She sits back in the chair, and finishes her glass of vodka as she listens to everyone talk.
Okay first time here, joining in.
Let's get a woman in this.
Name: Julia 'Scar' Curie
Appearance(optional):
[t]http://www.myfilmviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/scarlett_johansson.jpg[/t]
Date Of Birth: November 22, 1957 (27 years old)
Preferred Weapons: Modified Type 54 pistol that she carries at all times. Mac-10. Lightweight balisong knife.
Special Skills: Agile/Flexible, Dead Eye, and Stealthy.
Profession: Mercenary.
Nationality: American.
Biography: Grew up in Boston, her father died in the Vietnam war when she was only 7 years old. She lived on the streets and became a good pick pocket and sly negotiator. One day, when she was 17, she tried to steal a watch from a known billionaire. After a fight, the unnamed billionaire saw some use in her, as she picked quite a fight and was able to snatch his watch three times during the fist fight. He trained her in the art of Krav Maga, and how to handle herself in rough situations. She became a good shot with weapons ranging from Sidearms to Sniper Rifles.
For eight years she was the bilionaire's #1 in anything he desired. He was a good man, didn't do many things that were unethical, and was a fine gentleman. She became a fine lady, although a fierce opponent when it came to bloody outcomes.
At age 25, the billionaire's mansion was attacked and burned to the ground by an unknown militia. Julia was the only one to survive.
She's 27 now, freelancing jobs to wherever she see's fit. She took a boat to Sanskirt, Thailand, in hopes of finding good money in a corrupt city.
Having finished packing up his stuff and putting most of it inside a locked footlocker underneath the bed, Viktor marked the bed with a small nametag which said "V. Novakov".
He then walked out into the bar and begun observing his new colleagues with fascination while taking mental notes of their behaviour.
After Johnny finished assembling his gun, he put it back in the bag, he then snags one of the beds, marks it with his name, and shoves the bag under it, then he proceeds to lay down and take a nap.
"Tak, Mostly.", Aleksy replied to the curious American."It may not be the best at taking down your American Pattons but it should petty adequate in what we're be facing." Aleksy said as he zip the bag back up and lay it down next to the stool on the ground.
George put his flask and ammo belt back in his bag, before getting up from the table, round to the stairs. "Better hurry up and get your bed, Pillsbury, unless you want to sleep on a fuckin' bed of donuts!"
He rounded the corner to the dorm before dumping his bag by the closest bed. He then takes out a knife and carves "GEORGE" into it, before setting the knife under his pillow. Can never be too careful around a bunch'a commies.
Luke Bloom entered a blank room filled with boxes and wrecked wall paper, along there was a desk at the front. He curved his lips and sat on the metal chair. He laid his feet on the desk and let out some relief.
...
The scene was riddled with bullet holes and blood around the corner. A rough man with slicked man hair eyed the place. Adolfo wasn't happy at all. He placed his hands on a cigerette and lid it up. "We can't trust these Sandies, they're being paid up the ass." Adolfo remarked as he stared faraway from the pawn shop. Cop cars scattered around the area as the local police searched endlessly for info, even if it meant snatching priced processions.
A woman in her thirties walked up to Adolfo and whispered closely to his ear. "Kellogg."
Adolfo sighed and nodded. "Cereal brand again? Where is he?"
"Hiding. They'll expecting an assault tonight." She added. Adolfo let out a small puff of smoke, staring above the skies. "I'm not happy Carlita. Not at this week. If Spade wants a good partnership then we'll put him to the test."
Julia walks into the bar, a bit late getting off the boat, see's all these men with their big guns, and smirks. She's carrying a small bag, in it a few essentials and a Mac-10. She walks upstairs to put her stuff away in a tall locker. She takes the top bunk, with Voronov's bed below her, since she's the only woman there, and marks it with a name tag that read only her first name, "Julia"
After settling her stuff and marking her bed, Julia jumps up onto on her bed and reads one of her books she brought with her: 1984 by George Orwell.
Voronov finally gets up and takes her guns and gear to her bed upstairs, then returns to the bar. She pours herself another glass of vodka, then sits back at her table, lighting up another cigar as she does. She did keep one gun downstairs. Her AKM, just in case she needs it.
As Misha walked into the bar, hearing about people comparing their guns, he couldn't help but join in by dropping a minigun onto the bar counter.
"I am Mikhail, Heavy Weapons guy. And this...is my weapon. She weighs one-hundred and fifty kilograms and fires two hundred dollars, custom tooled cartridges at ten thousand rounds per minute. It cost four hundred thousand dollars to fire this weapon... For twelve seconds..."
Frank packed up his things and moved the bag next to him. He sat on the nearest chair and continued to drink, keeping mental notes on everyone.
"Comrade, if it costs that much to fire that thing, you need a different weapon." says Voronov loudly from her table, chuckling.
"Nyet!" Misha said. "Sasha has served wonderfully for Mikhail for past ten year, there are many weapons like Sasha, but Sasha is mine. Never can be replaced...Mikhail only shoots short 3 second burst."
Kevin wanders outside into the night, searching for donuts.
Viktor chuckled. While he understood Misha's reasoning, sentimental feelings towards a gun was a surefire way of getting killed.
He rose up from his spot and decided to walk around and have a closer look at the place before heading back tomhis bunk.
On his way back he spotted Julia. While very attractive the woman herself didn't caught his attention, the book she was reading however did.
He cautiously approached her. "That is one interesting book you're reading, puts alot of perspective on things."
Mikhail stared out of his window on the upper floor on the workshop while holding the telephone.
"[Yes, the car is in the alley. But if your planning to use it tonight to cause some trouble then leave me out of it.]" he spoke with a slightly iritated tone.
He had noticed that the bar at the docks was making more noise than usual and figures that it must be another shipments of mercs.
Mikhail put on his jacket and began walking down the streets to the OBT bar.
Rodney awakes from his unknowing slumber, finding himself with his face on the table. "Shit.. wha? How long was I out for..?"
Julia looks up from her book to see Viktor pondering over her.
"Hm? Oh, yes. Just started reading it; only a couple pages in. I heard it's good, and, like you said, puts perspective on lots of stuff, so I decided to bring it on over here while I make some bucks."
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