M.S.R.P. II

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PostPosted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 2:20 am 
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"I'm here to buy a new car..." Ingvar looked at Alexander and grinned. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing? It's a church!" he exclaimed, letting out a brief laugh. He then reached into his pocket and produced a package of cigarettes. Ingvar flipped open the top and pulled out a cigarette. He then tossed the package at Alexander before he lit his cigarette.

"What the hell happened? It looks like a drunken frat party gone horribly wrong!" exclaimed Ingvar, deeply inhaling the smoke with a smirk across his face. The smirk looked like the smirk of a deer right before you hit it on the highway. Stop it already! Just stop!!!

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Get this throught your head - I am not Russian, but Swedish.


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PostPosted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 2:28 am 
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Alexander nearly came when he caught the pack of smokes. It seemed that it took less than a second before two were lit and resting on his lips. Thank God... he thought to himself. He didn't usually smoke two at a time, but he needed a fix after the ordeal he had just been through.

Several minutes passed as Alexander smoked the two down to the short filters. He had already lit another and placed it in his mouth before he handed the pack back to Ingvar. He was calming down more now, relaxed after feeling the return of the nicotine. Alexander wrapped his thumb and index finger around the cigarette, removing it slowly. "I found her Ingi. She was just here, but she's gone now. These fuck mooks had to come in a ruin the party."

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PostPosted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 2:44 am 
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Ingvar was taken back by the comments. He found her. They'd searched for her for years, all around the world. People died on the way, many people, and now their labor bore its fruit. Now she was found. Ingvar walked to a nearby bench and motioned for Alex to follow.

"We looked for years, and now we found her," said Ingvar, inhaling the smoke. "When will she be back?" he asked. Ingvar then cross his legs and smiled, the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

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Ingvar "Långrocken" Skarsgard
Get this throught your head - I am not Russian, but Swedish.


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PostPosted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 2:47 am 
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Alexander sat down next to his friend. The cigarette in between his fingers, he rubbed his hands across his face. He took another puff before turning to Ingvar. "Bad news is I don't know. The punks attacked us... and somewhere in the melee she disapeared. It seem's we're back where we started."

Alex leaned back, his head lookin gupward towards the vaulted cieling. With a quick snap, his head was back in it's natural place, looking straight ahead. "That man.." He said, pointing with his cigarette to the young Russian , "That man may know where she went."

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PostPosted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 2:56 am 
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"Who is he?" asked Ingvar, before he stomped out his cigarette. He looked around at the church. It was full of bulletholes, dead bodies, and weapons. There must have been ten corpses, perhaps more. This wasn't just some spurr of the moment thing. Somebody had this entire thing planned. But who? Who would want to stop Alex from meeting her?

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Ingvar "Långrocken" Skarsgard
Get this throught your head - I am not Russian, but Swedish.


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 1:54 am 
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"Who I am is of no importance," Kazimir said as he stood there looking away. His eyes looked at all the dead corpses and he ran his tongue over his lips. "However...Arcadia is my cousin, so that might fill you in a little bit," he said and then flipped a cigarette from his hand onto the ground and stepped on it, releasing the burning of it. He looked around at the different people on the ground and slowly walked towards the front doors of the church, wanting to get a few things done for himself while these two discussed their thing.

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 04, 2006 8:03 am 
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"Well, it's been nice seeing you here. I have business in Detroit I must attend to though. If you need me, that's where I'll be," said Ingvar as his thoughts raced with imagery of elk, deer, and other various wildlife animals typically found in North American forests. He then exited the church and began his journey to teh airportxorzz! Yay! LoL!!

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Get this throught your head - I am not Russian, but Swedish.


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PostPosted: Fri Mar 17, 2006 7:48 am 
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_The sun beams through the clouds. The ground is covered in three-day old snow. The worst day. It's there, but it's hard and melting. It's gross. Mud has mixed with the white and it makes you feel like it should be warm outside, yet the wind is freezing your nipples off through your leather coat. My undersized biker jacket is zipped up, belted, and the collar up to cover my neck up. I wear my Ray Ban Wayfarers over my eyes, a scarf over my mouth and nose, and a bowler hat resting on my skull.
_Citizens could look at me and tell I wasn't from around here, though, in fact, I have Russian in me and was born in White Russia, leaving at two and returning at fifteen only to leave again at seventeen. My parents never could agree whether to keep me with my alchoholic father who didn't want me, but wanted to piss of the junkie mother who lived in Russia and did want me. Somehow my father always came out on top and had me.
_The church could be seen off in the distance now. I'm not religious, in fact, I'm very agnostic. The whole reason for coming here is to meet an old friend who hunts wild game for fun in many countries. He had a gift for me, so I took a trip to Russia. I had no idea what this gift was, but I had my ideas since I was always envious of his many things. Nearly at the church, I figure I should not go too close to it, nor inside. After all, I was fifteen minutes early. This was time for a cigarette. Putting one in my mouth, I light it up and take a nice drag, releasing the smoke to dissipate into the air. The cold bit at my throat as I smoked the cigarette, so now I take a seat on a bench and try to warm myself.
_I see him coming. He stops walking far enough off to where it would be hard to tell he was motioning to me, but close enough that I could tell that it was him and that he was motioning to me. I stand and straighten my jacket, pulling my hands from my pockets with some fingerless, leather biker gloves. He walks off and I follow, but not too close, simultaneously fitting my gloves onto my hands. He walks for nearly ten minutes before he goes off into an empty alleyway. I stop to light a cigarette before going in to make things less obvious. A few drags do me good and I make my way to the alley. As I enter the alley, I realize I've lost him. "Sean," I wisper as I look up, down, and around. No response is made. I say his name again, this time louder, "Sean." Still no response. One last time, this time with a near shout, "Sean!" "SHHH!" he exits a back door to a business long ago shut down. He must have picked the lock. "Not so loud," he wispers to me, "In here. I got a couple things for you." Entering the building after looking down both ends of the alley, I am greeted with a big hug, "I haven't seen you in so long OP!" With a smile, I reply, "Yeah. it's been way too long."
"Indeed it has."
"I'm greatful that you have something to give me, and I don't want to sound pushy, but I'm actually leaving Moscow soon. Very soon. Like in a couple hours."
"Didn't you just get here this morning?"
"Yes. By plane. I'm driving out of here to tour a bit and catch a train to Europe, then, yet, another drive into Italy where I will be meeting someone."
"I see. Well...I think I know what you're getting into. Never got over your childish dreams."
"Not so. I did, yet now it's just something I need to do, not as much want."
"Ahh, well, what I have for you is just the perfect gift."
"Oh. Is that so?"
Sean pulls a sheet off of a table a few weapons and boxes of ammo. There lies an Enfield Jungle Carbine, flash supressor and all. Next lies a Smith & Wesson M4506 . He hands me a baseball "batbag" and I load it all in there. I thank him greatly and ask the quickest way out. He said to exit the opposite end of the alley that we came from and walk three blocks, go left and cut through the grass to the parking garage where I had parked. It was a quick escape. I had liked it. I didn't have to walk all day. I thank him once more and head on my way.


REQUESTS:
- {(1)} Enfield Jungle Carbine (bolt-action)
- {(1)} Smith & Wesson M4506
- {(100)} Rounds of M4506 AMMO
- {(100)} Rounds of Enfield AMMO

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 12:38 am 
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I'm sorry. I was supposed to grade this last night until power went silly on me. Anyway, I was saying last night that you should have presented a clear reason on why this guy is giving you the weapons- not just because he's your friend. It can't just be like, "Oh, I haven't seen you in a long time. Here, have some weapons and rounds." No. There has got to be a lasting or temporary purpose on why he's giving you the guns. Like, was he going to make you kill someone? Or do you have a history with those weapons, and why is your friend giving you these? Because he's going out of the country again tonight? You've to show my why you deserve the weapons Dear, and not just because you want them. I've no problem with what you're asking for- since you've said that Sean is a hunter, and the air gun's explainable. I'm going to give you the S&W alone and about fifty sets of ammunition with it. Done.
Will be quicker next time.

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