You Are Bounty Hunters

[Knighthawk]

He nodded at the plan, just sitting in a chair with fingers together and his gun in a sling over his neck. He figured he would be one of those pushing them back from the bottom with his 50 cal. He got up to his full height and took a look at the official building blueprints.

Were are some supports in this place? Either a charge or just a car through the right wall might knock them down a peg. Otherwise yeah, one from top to bottom zipping in and hoping they don't get shot with the others coming in from bottom up. Cut the power in case he has a dumbwaiter or something to escape through. He's a low level boss but he's probably still a boss for a reason, paranoid to keep in charge he might do something really stupid along the way.

[Arlear]

Derrick kept silent throughout the exchange of ideas- there was no need to voice his own, not yet. Despite the many criticisms he had for most of the plans, he kept them to himself. As well as the compliments. By the time hte sniper voiced his idea, Derrick was already halfway out the door, slinging his jacket on over the harness that held his many knives, peering over his shoulder.
"Well, let's go then. We can work out the details once we're -there-. This office is getting stuffy, and we don't want to keep our new friend waiting."
Being Derrick, he didn't even wait for a response from the others- just started heading down the stairs. Not to say his mind wasn't whipping about- for it certainly was. Measuring all the good and bad possible outcomes of the plan, deciding what to do before they ever got there. That was what he had been taught to do, and it had served him well. Think ahead, Derrick. Win the game before it starts, Derrick. Have Three plans, four backup plans for each of them, and six backup plans for each of those, Derrick. All of those things were drilled into his head, and he sure as hell didn't regret it.

[Frokane]

Dynamo watched the group argue and it brought him great joy, "Nothin more useless then a team full of leaders, Im gonna leave the particulars to you, just get my fucking cigar box without scratching it". Dynamo, yawned and moved his left leg a little to let go of a huge fart which sound was only amplified by the leather armchair. He turned just as Derrick ran down the stairs, somewhat eager to get started with the bounty, "Hes got the right idea, not fucking around and getting to the point, but his hastiness will get him killed if he dont stay sharp, not that I worry about minor things like that" Dynamo snorted.

He turned towards the plotting girl, and johnathon, and started to snicker, "dress up like normal people? HA, yeah well even if you didnt have the antomy of a blow up doll, that still wouldnt excuse our explosives expert here, im not an expert on fashion, but even i know there is nothing 'normal' about a bomb expert wearing a short-sleeved turtleneck, extra point for entusiasm and wierdness". He then turned towards the sniper and the blonde, Dynamos face switched sharply from snide and obnoxious to cold and serious "keep an eye on things, you two might have what it takes to keep a group like this out of trouble, dont let Derrick run off too far, hes anxious but you need him, downstairs youll meet our driver, Olga, shes parked up with a vehicle to hold all of you, shell also be comeing with you, good luck.

Dynamo chewed his cigar a little before sucking it down to the very end, spitting it out the largish hole in the wall where a window might have been before. His eyes became dark and he nodded to the non-cowboy russian with a silver of respect. " Not a scratch comrade, Not a fucking scratch"

[PsychoMantis]

Revolver Wolf turned and headed down stairs to meet the driver and get on with the mission. As he descended the stairs he unholstered one of his guns and flicked the chamber out. He then loaded it with the six bullets it needed before flicking it back in place. He did this with his other guns, flicked the chamber out, loaded it, flicked it back in place. He didn't really care about who he was killing, just as long as he got his money.

[PrimezTime]

The large metal framed glass door slammed shut behind a small, petite blond woman. Her eyelids colored with a blue eyeshadow that almost appeared to match the color of her faded blue coat. The woman's hair had a single bun hidden behind her head and her hands as the woman gently tried to warm her ears up from the cold. It was considered taboo for a woman like Olga to be so affected by the cold. She was born in it, lived with it for the majority of her life but just couldn't escape the shitty feeling that came along with cold air. It was just one of those things that she couldn't control but she was fine with that. There were many things she couldn't control but never did she allow those things to stop her. She was too strong for that.

The poorly heated lobby hardly offered comfort but Olga knew she wouldn't be waiting here that long. This dumpy old town building housed just one man's shady business and his employees. Whatever the original purpose of this build was, it was long forgotten because nothing remained other than the walls. Across a lobby-like area was a set of stairs that went up to the second floor. It was there that her comrades were descend in order to meet her, the driver. The other members of her group were all 'special' individuals, that for some reason or another signed away this section of their life to track and capture bounties. They came from all over Russia, the US, United Kingdom, wherever. All lured by money or pleasure to dedicate themselves to nothing more than hunting for sport. These type of people disgusted, Olga. These 'Guns-for-hire' were nothing more than greedy criminals in her mind. Of course, she was one of them but refused to hold herself in that same light. Her hand was forced because she had no where else to turn. She was different but, then again, so were they.

--

The meeting must have taken a detour because according to her internal clock, they should have been done by now. Purcelli, or Dynamo for some odd reason, usually liked to kick his employees out right away. Olga blamed the thought of them arguing over price, as if that would work, but thankfully a sound of footsteps on the floor above pounded away on the creaking old flooring. The meeting must have just gotten over but Olga saw that one man had accelerated ahead of the group. The man clearly had a knife fetish because his whole body was adorned with knife holsters housing nothing other than knives. If first impressions meant the world, this guy seemed pathetic.

Olga cocked a slight smile out of entertainment for the man as she began walking towards him to introduce herself, out of feigned respect. "Hello, sir, my name is Olga and I'll be joining you on this assignment. The van is idling out front." Her accent was thick as she spoke.

As she waited for the man's response, Olga shot a quick glance over to staircase to see the other members flowing down the staircase and into the lobby. She had a lot of people to introduce herself, too. Even if she didn't want to.

[Kia]

Kia rolled her eyes when Dyamino farted.'Perfect.Not only is he a perv,but he's an ill-mannered bastard as well' she thought.Watching one of her teammates leave,she sighed.This was going to be a long mission.Until they got a feel of each others strengths and weaknesses,they were simply screwed.She knew a few were going to try to show off and prove how "awesome" they were.Heading out the room,she walked down the steps and headed for the car.

[Arlear]

Derrick blinked, stopping in front of the driver- He took the smile for what it was, strained bullshit in an attempt to hide distaste. He didn't mind, most people were disgusted by him, and those like him. Though, instead of sneering, he bowed. And honest, good natured bow, tipping his hat with a flourish in the process.
"A pleasure, Olga. I am Derrick Lee- And I thank you for driving us ahead of time, as I might not get the chance to later. Is your accent polish, by the way? A wonderful accent, it compliments you wonderfully."
Well. What do you know, he -did- have a mannered side. Even if he -was- laying the pretty words on a bit thick. Silver tongued bastard, he is.

But then, it couldn't be said he was being dishonest. What he said was the truth of what he thought, simply accentuated by flourished motions and pretty words. He straightened from the bow, flashing a smile that most certainly reached those piercing eyes of his before replacing his hat, the brim shading his features once more. Seeing the others coming down behind him, he half stepped, half slid to the side to let them meet Olga, the braid usually so neatly wrapped around his shoulders flopping off and swinging behind him briefly- only to be quickly re-wrapped and tucked into his jacket to prevent it from flailing about.

[Sadko]

Jonathan, was slowly walking down the stairs casually, despite his fat, juicy case with explosives, he wanted to look like a normal, rich man. When he got to the taxi, he just smirked at her without greeting her, hopefully she understood, Jonathan already had experience with dealing with people like these, he knew she already read his file, and everyone else's, just by reading it, she knew him like she is his mother.

He already knew she had been notified that he will be going through underground sewers to get to the mansion, as well as with the underground team, but just to make sure she didnt forget, he had spoke up "I, and some more of my comrades will be getting off at an underground tunnel to get to the mansion, Olga." he had spoke with a little bit of a raucous tone, infact he also hated the snow.

He had swiftly seated himself in the van, again checking his suitcase with explosives with care of a mother, like he had stuffed a child in there, worrying if he was okay.

[lantgreen]

Vergil walked out in the midst of the the group, some smelling rather clean and others not so much, he put his hood back up and made a detour away from the group but not too far, grabbing his rifle case, one can say it was large enough to hold a cello. He noticed the girl in the lobby and he glanced at her before looking away and making his destination to the van out front. He wasn't much of the 'nice to meet you' guy, just as long as everyone did their job he was happy.

He sat in the middle on the driver side of the van, his case standing straight up but leaning on its side so it didn't touch the ceiling of the van. he opened it lightly, digging through grabbing various clips of ammunition to check that he had what he needed, then putting them back where they were. He pulled out his set of goggles and turned them on, they started up with a high pitch of electricity as if an EMP had started. Out of the various scopes on his right eye, a couple glowed red, he looked around at those in the van and those outside of them, getting their facial recognition into the goggles and tagging them for allies.

[Knighthawk]

He waited last to get in the car, knowing his unfortunate appearance and size often made him last one to get a seat in regular places. In fact if available he would set himself to the back of the van and climb into the 'trunk'. Part of him wanted to check the van, see what made it tick and how he could make it better. But for now he would save that for after the mission, if there were repairs to be made would be the best time to upgrade.

He never touched his gun as it hung around his neck, he knew it like he knew himself, he knew its strengths and weaknesses. He knew it was clean and had a thin wax plug on the tip he could shoot out without complications. The reason his .50 was based off of the AK-47 was its function, the AK could fire underwater or in the sand as long as the seal was intact and with twin clip feed he knew it would take longer than most to need a reload or any other maintenance that a dirty field would risk. It was also about nerves for others, checking their gun to check themselves, he knew himself so he felt no ned to check for anything.