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Recent Statuses

9 yrs ago
If there are RPs/PM's I need to reply to- I am working on it, I'm a little overladen in life atm. I haven't forgotten about you :)
10 yrs ago
Aaand back.
10 yrs ago
ALERT- I'm going AFK for a week, anyone that sees this on here, I won't be about to respond, this is to both 1x1s/RPs.

Bio

I've RP'd for the best part of over 14 years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I like creating RPs with a distinct flavour- and often shift between narrative-led RPs to semi-randomised plots.

I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy- though I always come back!

Most Recent Posts

Slots reserved if requested!

Alright, tell you what- for those of you interested an OOC is up!

@Hokagae@Jamesyco

roleplayerguild.com/topics/187468-rav…
And we are live, with an OOC! We're still accepting applications- if you haven't seen the Interest Check then the setup for a near-future, slightly wacky military RP is below.

The Setup:

Raven Squad (RS) is a mysterious task force, working against the forces of global terrorist groups in the near future (roughly 20 or 30 years from now) who often who are armed with quite advanced technology- or nefarious political aims. Al-Qaeda it isn't, so in come our operatives to deal with the anarchy. In a world where mechs are prototypes, exoskeletons, jump-packs, optical cloaking and various other technologies are around the corner, the tide of warfare is changing...and Raven is there to stop the worst happening.

Raven Squad have access to that technology, and six of the most elite operatives that made it through a gruelling process to counter the threat. With different specialists allowing the team to have everything from a scalpel-like precision to brute force with heavy firepower, they act as a counterbalance.

Where an SF team cannot penetrate a facility, Raven Squad come in. When a politician needs to go, they come in. When you have ten foot mechs trying to breach a high-security Gulag and you need those fuckers removed, they come in. Raven Squad are the people that stop the world ending as we know it. Problem is, they're a little dysfunctional- and well, they're not all the most....professional of soldiers, or spies, or agents, or well, anyone who is capable of getting the job done.

----

Character Sheet:

Sometime in the near future, your character was Special Forces, Mercenary, a Spy, a Gangster even, or ex-whatever. But they were picked, selected even for a very good reason. The world is left vague intentionally so you're welcome to dabble with your character's journey and lore up to the RP's start.

Anyway, your person. They were more than just a regular operator, soldier, asset, mercenary. They were far beyond that.

It means that your character more likely than not is a bit of an oddball as well.

Your character passed a test known as "The Devil's Cooker", a fiendish double-triathlon level test coupled to psychometric and advanced weapons testing, truly seperating the wheat from the chaff in seeing who is truly unbreakable and more importantly, capable under pressure. 90% fail, but your character made it through. Failure would have led to a cocktail of drugs being used to wipe part of their memory, and that's reason enough.

Consider that a high bar for your character's entry. If they made it that far, they joined the very insignificantly small number of individuals capable of having the most advanced technology and equipment known to the world's intelligence agencies at their disposal, and the responsibility of saving the world....rather too frequently.

In terms of tech, there's nothing outlandish but it definitely allows for some more innovative, more interesting tech to be on the table. As a spy-fi / near future setting, everything from exoskeleton support to jump packs, nanotechnology among others are on the cards- but it's not going to be completely down the road of Cyberpunk (not to begin with, at least...). Modern contemporary weaponry is mostly still used but with experimental weaponry, if it can be made to work and you can make it work with all its advantages and flaws, then go right ahead. The playbook isn't compeletely open, but there's a hell of a lot to make your operative their unique slice of the pie. Feel free to come up with original, or genuine ideas if you think it might work- nothing too fantastical, but if it fits the theme of the RP.



Character Slots Availible:

Light (M) - BigPapaBelilal
Light (F)- VeyrinDay
Medium (M) - BigPapaBelilal
Medium (F)- FourtyTwo
Heavy (M) - Jamesyco
Heavy (F) - Laser Kiwi

----

Background:

Not much is known about Raven Squad as an organisation- only that it has shadowy links to the previous "Team Scimitar", a prior semi-independent mercenary group that similarly fought against a range of terrorist threats and organisations.

Though since those days, plenty has evolved in terms of technology and equipment used- and the organisation appears to silently select those who it wants through a contact named "Oracle", who recruits operators on a selective basis. RS after all, is the boogeyman that spies, special forces and various government agencies can't even confirm exists. The operatives have a comfy life on base, but holidays don't come often when the world needs saving.

Based out of a formerly abandoned naval patrol base on an island off Corsica, RS has access to a short runway, as well as a bunker complex built into the side of a cliffside base- housing a firing range, armoury, R&R facilities (including a pool, of all things!), training rooms and brefing facilities that allow it to be a home away from home- out of sight and visuals from prying eyes.

Our characters, outside of being involved in taking out the baddies, will get a chance to chill, relax and do whatever takes their fancy back at base, and it's a nice little quirk to show off your characters a bit more too!



--------------------------------------------------------------



------------

Post your CSs below, and I'll review them before accepting- then once we get those all in we'll get started! I'm thin on details at the moment at just how things will kick off, but it'll give a nice idea of the world and a good chance to showcase your characters!
Hugo kept his cool as he put floor to throttle, and did as Kasumi may have well thought. His starts were good, and while in qualifying his pace was above average when things got to it, it was in races he found it best to get elbows out. Melbourne's start straight passed faster than a glimpse, and taking the chance to pass the Alfa of Kimi right ahead of him, and Latifi too, the heavily braking Williams giving Hugo a perfect route through on the outside as they went three-wide through the messy straights. Hugo was totally in that moment, and no doubt, it was a bit of a signature of things to come. A lucky break, or a ? Kasumi had the room to follow, but right now, Hugo was focussed on holding position, and through the next few corners, he could keep his calm, the grip not exceedingly convincing but the powerplant behind him giving enough power to build on and keep going.

"Nicely done, that's P16, P16." Hugo gave no response, not excited, just focussed in. He was here to race, and not to concede. Turn 9 and 10 came fast and quick, the aero of an F1 car keeping it virtually glued, the G-forces swinging through his neck as he could see Kasumi being able to follow through the hole he'd made through the other backmarkers, though they were getting moment to moment changes in the delta. It mattered nought, because now he had to keep it on.

The end of lap one felt like an exhale, but F1 was non-stop. It was going to continue, and while Russell ahead was still in a Williams, he was going to leave Hugo for dust with the rest of the train that was ahead. Simply put, the Valkyrie wasn't going to close that gap, and for now, Hugo knew he just had to get his head down. Lap after lap, time after time.
"Okay, good work, Hugo. Remember, we're on a one stop strategy, no changes to that. How is the car, copy?"

"Car is good, let me get on with it." Hugo replied sternly but he didn't want his focus ruined. He was here to bed himself into the race, and that was his strategy.

And so it went. From something climactic and epic, now it felt like the first lap had gone, Hugo Olivera was here alright. Lap after lap passed, and on the now scrubby mediums he knew he had to do the other part of holding the gap. He could see the delta time of Raikkonen behind him, flickering and up and down with DRS, but with the ability to equalise that thanks to Russell's slipstream, he could bed himself in here. Hugo didn't think about his teammate, but deep down, hoped she'd be able to make advantage of the train he was going to soon be leading.
RAVEN SQUAD

MAIN THREAD:

roleplayerguild.com/topics/187468-rav…

Raven Squad is a variant on an RP idea I've had for years, focussing on a military / spy-fi RP that takes influence from a range of sources. It's bombastic, over the top, ridiculous...and definitely an RP that lends itself to not being too serious while having a teeny bit of grounding. Trying to save the world isn't ever going to look totally realistic, right?

Taking influence from everything from an awful lot of video games and films- Titanfall to MGS, Rainbow Six to Arma and Bad Company among many others- with a sprinkle of a little insanity on top and a teeny bit of grounding to set up a near-future foe, this RP isn't exactly focussed on absolute tactical precision nor complete fantastical elements. It's hard to describe but if you're somewhere between The Expendables, MGS, Overwatch and Rainbow Six, it's roughly that with around the right amount of silly and serious and a dynamic team of elite misfits.

Interested? Read on and the setup and all the details are below.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Setup:

Raven Squad (RS) is a mysterious task force, working against the forces of global terrorist groups in the near future (roughly 20 or 30 years from now) who often who are armed with quite advanced technology- or nefarious political aims. Al-Qaeda it isn't, so in come our operatives. In a world where mechs are prototypes, exoskeletons, jump-packs, optical cloaking and various other technologies are around the corner, the tide of warfare is changing...and Raven is there to stop the worst happening.

Raven Squad have access to that technology, and six of the most elite operatives that made it through a gruelling process to counter the threat. With different specialists allowing the team to have everything from a scalpel-like precision to brute force with heavy firepower, they act as a counterbalance.

Where an SF team cannot penetrate, Raven Squad come in. When a politician needs to go, they come in. When you have ten foot mechs trying to breach a high-security Gulag and you need those fuckers removed, they come in. Raven Squad are the people that stop the world ending as we know it. Problem is, they're a little dysfunctional- and well, they're not all the most....professional of soldiers, or spies, or agents, or well, anyone who is capable of getting the job done.

----

Background:

Not much is known about Raven Squad as an organisation- only that it has shadowy links to the previous "Team Scimitar", a prior semi-independent mercenary group that similarly fought against a range of terrorist threats and organisations.

Though since those days, plenty has evolved in terms of technology and equipment used- and the organisation appears to silently select those who it wants through a contact named "Oracle", who recruits operators on a selective basis. RS after all, is the boogeyman that spies, special forces and various government agencies can't even confirm exists. The operatives have a comfy life on base, but holidays don't come often when the world needs saving.

Based out of a formerly abandoned mining facility in Corsica, RS has access to a short runway, as well as a bunker complex built into the side of a cliffside base- housing a firing range, armoury, R&R facilities (including a pool, of all things!), training rooms and brefing facilities that allow it to be a home away from home- out of sight and visuals from prying eyes.

--------------------------------------------------------------



------------

Post your interest below if you're up for this- I'm looking for around six but can be flexible up or down!

Character Slots Availible:

Light (M)-
Light (F)-
Medium (M) -
Medium (F)-
Heavy (M) -
Heavy (F) -
RAVEN SQUAD

Raven Squad is a variant on an RP idea I've had for years, focussing on a military / spy-fi RP that takes influence from a range of sources. It's bombastic, over the top, ridiculous...and definitely an RP that lends itself to not being too serious while having a teeny bit of grounding. Trying to save the world isn't ever going to look totally realistic, right?

Taking influence from everything from an awful lot of video games and films- Titanfall to MGS, Rainbow Six to Arma and Bad Company among many others- with a sprinkle of a little insanity on top and a teeny bit of grounding to set up a near-future foe, this RP isn't exactly focussed on absolute tactical precision nor complete fantastical elements. It's hard to describe but if you're somewhere between The Expendables, MGS, Overwatch and Rainbow Six, it's roughly that with around the right amount of silly and serious and a dynamic team of elite misfits.

Interested? Read on and the setup and all the details are below.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Setup:

Raven Squad (RS) is a mysterious task force, working against the forces of global terrorist groups in the near future (roughly 20 or 30 years from now) who often who are armed with quite advanced technology- or nefarious political aims. Al-Qaeda it isn't, so in come our operatives. In a world where mechs are prototypes, exoskeletons, jump-packs, optical cloaking and various other technologies are around the corner, the tide of warfare is changing...and Raven is there to stop the worst happening.

Raven Squad have access to that technology, and six of the most elite operatives that made it through a gruelling process to counter the threat. With different specialists allowing the team to have everything from a scalpel-like precision to brute force with heavy firepower, they act as a counterbalance.

Where an SF team cannot penetrate, Raven Squad come in. When a politician needs to go, they come in. When you have ten foot mechs trying to breach a high-security Gulag and you need those fuckers removed, they come in. Raven Squad are the people that stop the world ending as we know it. Problem is, they're a little dysfunctional- and well, they're not all the most....professional of soldiers, or spies, or agents, or well, anyone who is capable of getting the job done.

----

Background:

Not much is known about Raven Squad as an organisation- only that it has shadowy links to the previous "Team Scimitar", a prior semi-independent mercenary group that similarly fought against a range of terrorist threats and organisations.

Though since those days, plenty has evolved in terms of technology and equipment used- and the organisation appears to silently select those who it wants through a contact named "Oracle", who recruits operators on a selective basis. RS after all, is the boogeyman that spies, special forces and various government agencies can't even confirm exists. The operatives have a comfy life on base, but holidays don't come often when the world needs saving.

Based out of a formerly abandoned mining facility in Corsica, RS has access to a short runway, as well as a bunker complex built into the side of a cliffside base- housing a firing range, armoury, R&R facilities (including a pool, of all things!), training rooms and brefing facilities that allow it to be a home away from home- out of sight and visuals from prying eyes.

--------------------------------------------------------------



------------

Post your interest below if you're up for this- I'm looking for around six but can be flexible up or down!

Character Slots Availible:

(Can be flexible once all are filled!)

Light (M)-
Light (F)- VeyrinDay (temporary reservation)
Medium (M) - BigPapaBelilal
Medium (F)- FourtyTwo
Heavy (M) - Jamesyco (temporary reservation)
Heavy (F) -
Bethan chuckled as Yekatarina came over, and then proceeded to load her GSH-18, the modern Russian pistol a tool even the Welsh girl was impressed by. Much nicer than a Makarov, far more functional somewhat. The dirt and dust had begun to make her lightly blonde hair look almost a darker tone altogether, perhaps a reflection of all the shit that they'd gone through with the truck and the running through the slum, Sean nodded as he dragged a cut-open oil barrel over to the fountain, to where the other two were sitting.
"That's true. But if we scavenge, I'm sure we'll find everything we need out there. Seems to be the way it works. Places to stay too, hopefully. I don't care what it is, so long as it has four walls and isn't going to be ringing with gunfire all night long. Not much takes this much out of me, but I'm feeling fucked. In between carjacking and killing people, you know?" Sean replied, sighing as Yekatarina asked about the map, a comment that the Irishman behind on the rolled over barrel could comment upon.

"You think I would have left it?" Sean drew it from his back pocket, throwing it Bethan's way.
"Not much, but I thought it was worth a steal." Bethan sighed to Sean's comment, but felt almost impressed by him in that moment, knowing while he was a cunt, he was a resourceful one at times. She reached over to take it, and flicking through, whistled, passing it to Yekatarina.

"Not bad. So that's most of the city. And the basics of the region, main roads, main towns. Looks like a holiday map mostly." Bethan mused, the look of it something a tourist would have, not a military unit. On that note, she got to work on loading her own Glock up with nine-mils, taking magazines she had kept and filling them in with a few more 9mm rounds, aware she hadn't actually expended much ammunition herself. A brief moment, but a chance to say the least. The few rounds into the mag were easy to place, with a slight push on the spring and they simply slid into place.

She slid her Glock out after holstering it and reholstering it again, and offering it to Yekatarina, reaching out after knowing the Russian would be nearly finished.
"Mind if I take a look at yours? That's an interesting looking piece." Bethan asked, the Welsh girl aware it was a little strange to ask, but it was a curiosity to her. Sean in the meantime finished up loading his FAL, a nice cock of the rifle and another check giving him a rare moment to appreciate that as little as this was, it was a proper bush-level FAL.

That brief exchange was followed by Hayden coming over, Sean looking at the thing and almost in a moment not even wanting to stay put with his FAL. Now that tool Hayden had, that was a thing of beauty. A relic. And only one part of his brain came on at that moment. A reference to be sure.

https://youtu.be/4yQeyi2Fc40?t=79

"Don't you think you could have brought something a bit more practical? Fucking hell, he's brought an anti-aircraft gun..." Sean remarked, a glowing smile from him as he stood and took a look at it, looking back at Bethan. She got it, but on a drunk film night in getting something from a movie delivery service, and sighed, as he looked back at Hayden.
"Ehh, you won't get it. Fuck, I used one of these a while back. That looks to me like a Bren Mk4,.303 cartridge, hits like a fucking fridge but handles like one. Jesus, that is a fucking tool. And you got the pan mags. Fucking hellfire...a man of fine taste." Sean seemed impressed, the automatic rifleman taking it in, nodding in approval to Hayden. That moment too was broken by Victor turning up, the two enormous guards flanking him, towering over even Sean. The comment about "asking a few questions" felt a little unnerving, but then again, they hadn't gotten tooled up with no good reason. There had to be something afoot here, and no doubt, they had to be on their shit.

On that note, Sean looked directly at Bethan and nodded, a pact almost without words, keep your trap shut about the objective and remain on cover. Of some vague kind, at least. Details might get a bullet in the back of their brains, the right ones to keep them alive, the wrong ones would be their end. Following the group over, Sean and Bethan got back into the limo, knowing that they had another contact in the chain to go meet.
@BigPapaBelial

Cheers thanks!

Had that post sitting on my pad for a while and thought I'd get it out of the way before going off till tomorrow evening. Will check for typos as soon as
The surreal feeling of the limo was a shock to both of them, as they stepped inside. It was fucking surreal, and made zero sense at all. This was too nice, too good. As if they stepped out of the poverty out there and back into the west. It was a culture shock, and a total confusion at first, well, until they found the champagne and mini bar.

Taking the bubbly, Sean could only chuckle, looking across toe the group.
"Fuckinn get in, lads!" Sean added, pouring a glass of it as Bethan grabbed a few sandwiches, some for now and some for the long run into her pockets, starving and completely in need.
"Yeah, why not...this is mad..." Bethan simply commented, sighing as she leaned back in the seat, looking across to the team as they drove across the capital's rugged and rough streets, heading away from the compound and to the market. And that market was a deep jungle of itself, and going through it after leaving the limo left nothing to the imagination. The limo dropping them off and the introductions made to the market felt even more surreal, Bethan and Sean following the team through and over to Victor. Even in a world gone to shit, free market capitalism still reigned true. After all that had happened, Bethan had pushed down that part of her that felt what she did about what had happened merely 20 minutes ago, understanding now it was follow or die with this madness.

Standing by Bethan's side, Sean saw the case get opened as Victor slid the case over to Hayden, walking over to him and looking him up. With barely a flinch, he took his machete and seperates 20, 20, 20, and another 20, looking to the three others as he flicked a few aside going through them. It showed that he knew product, and while he might have been a thick, sometimes plain Marine, he knew how to make these things work.
"As per earlier. It's safer and fairer, if anyone decides to go and get greedy, they won't have any ideas either. Keep a few in change, food, water, accomodation and all that." Sean simply stated, letting the others take their share as he took his, the best part of 20 stones each and enough to go do some light shopping with. Looking up to the two Amazonians and Victor, Sean nodded, diamonds in hand, as he eyed one of them up to take a look at it's glimmering sheen.
"Not a bad shout, Victor. They could fit an engagement ring pretty well. We'll go and get tooled and regroup."

----------------------

Sean went his own way at first, finding a trader towards the end of the market, after walking through and getting a general gist of what was going on here. With the Mosin Nagant in hand, he approached the last trader of the road, knowing it was quieter here, and a little less filled with hustle and bustle.

"Hey, big man, you got any FALs in stock, any R1s? Got this thing to offer you up in exchange, and I'm paying in stones." Sean asked with the confident swagger of someone who normally sold cocaine to rich people, the Irishman half clued up on what was the local variant of the right hand of the free world, made into the third world's favourite people thinning device that wasn't an AKM.

And with the trader coming back in, Sean chuckled, as the trader pulled out a relatively decent looking version, from where he did not know but that backroom seemed almost infinitely filled when he had peeked through the mesh door. It had Rhodesian markings on it no less...and a fucking weird looking flash suppressor. But then again, the Mosin Nagant he put on the table was fair barter, worth something.

"Rhodesian FN FAL rifle, Halbeck flash on the end, selector switch. Taken from their reserve storage, it is as if brand new, sir. 12 diamonds. Your rifle and ammo is worth two to me." The trader said, selling it up beyond what Sean could very much see. The rifle's flash suppressor was odd, but the solid stock and the dusted paint on it said it wasn't brand, brand new.

"7 diamonds for the FAL. That thing is at least 40 years old. And the markings show it's been used, but maintained. Not in storage. I want a good tool. So seven." Sean replied, the man angered but aware that Sean was not a regular tourist given he looked very shifty and willing to walk away as he trued the rifle in his arm, no mag inside, checking it over. It was definitely well looked after, this thing not looking like it would explode, but then again, it was old- and it needed to be cleaned and checked over in the mud and dirt of this place more than a rifle usually would.

"9. No funny business, mister. I promise, it's good." The trader's reply got a wry smirk out of Sean, as he nodded.
"Deal." Sean added, as he chuckled, looking at mags. 7 spent total, trade in completed.

"Gimmie six magazines, and 120 rounds, standard NATO 7.62, all FNJ. No Chinese crap."
"That's another eight diamonds, sir. I've got South African, that good?"
"Nope, five. Whatever it is, it better shoot straight."
"Seven."
"Six. Last one." Sean's last offer was right there, on the money.
"Fine." The trader replied, as last but not least, taking a look at his other selection. 13 spent.

"Need 30 more rounds of 9x19 too."
"That's two."
"One."
"Just for you, one. You drive a hard bargain, mister. I have a family to feed." The trader jested, knowing he could at least guilt him on the next purchase. 14 spent.

"I feel like you're going to get a lot more business from stupid westerners soon. I know how it feels to have a family to feed too. It's the market rate, I've already checked." Sean chuckled, as Sean took the two boxes of rounds, and the FN FAL, eyeing up the iron sight, and smirking. There was a reason he went for this. It was a classic British service weapon, the L1A1 had been much loved before the SA-80's jamming and shit operation had replaced it. In the old days back in Bosnia, Sean would take it any day over the L85A1 if he wasn't lugging around an FN MAG as a tool for use. While old and dated, it did the trick and felt tried and tested, even for the third world.

"One more then...have you got a tactical pack lying around? That and light webbing. Got anything?" The trader took a moment to think, and after going to the back, brought something out, noting the DPM that Sean was wearing. A 28L assault pack, MOLLE-set with zips and straps on the back, similar to the kind he dropped in with, in fact. The webbing was similar, a tactical vest that would be a better replacement for the coat he was using, lighter and able to carry mags. The coat would be handy in a pinch, put inside the bag, but he'd been boiling in the heat. The trader eyed up Sean, knowing customers weren't often as specific as he was.

"You are English, I think? That weird accent. Where are you from, sir?"
"Northern Ireland, pal. Place here looks like it's got more trouble than home. That I appreciate, good tools. Two." Sean ignored the fact he was just called English, that was a no-no, but then again, fuck it. Worth letting those things go when you were being a hard cunt.
"Three diamonds. Just for you, this is special."
"Two."
"Fine. You are a hard bastard, Irishman."
"They all tell me that. Pleasure doing business." 16 spent, it left enough to get food, drink and keep a couple of diamonds spare if shit hit the fan, Sean leaving the market on that note.

------------

Meanwhile, Bethan had gone to another trader, and finding her AK worth a little bit more. She didn't like the platform - and while aware Yekatarina might have been more familiar, it looked like absolute shit, rust everywhere and like it would explode probably if cycled through two more mags. It felt very, very wonky- as if the weapon had been totally neglected and was more a mantlepiece item. The hustle and bustle made her feel exposed, like she wasn't belonging in this place, like a fucking white saviour with blonde hair here to shoot a charity ad rather than buy a gun.
"Afternoon, mate. I've got a list of stuff to look for. This AK, how much? Diamonds, yes?"
"Three diamonds for that, it looks like shit. Merde, I should give you two, but just for you being pretty three." The French-accented trader made Bethan chuckle, as she left the Kalash there, looking up her.

"Well, you'll make me blush now. Okay, so I need a few bits. What's the going rate on rifles at the moment?"
"Pfft, you ask, you get anything you want. A good AK, 10 diamonds. I even have M16s in there, twenty. Though just for you...I've got a special shipment of FNC rifles. Straight from in from the DRC."
"I mean, I don't believe that, but fuck it, whatever. How much for one of those?"
"13 diamonds. I promise, all good. Special price. Battle used, but still capable. Skeleton para stock, selector, standard length." The trader turned and took the FNC out from the storeroom behind, placing it on the table, Bethan truing it up. The rifle looked pretty much as good as it would be, and she'd known this rifle to be something decent- better than the equivalent in an AK or AR family. It beat the AKs that were out there- those would be near enough unusable in her western paws, while an FNC might stand a chance. More unreliable, but then again, more accurate, more modern, and more tactile to use when travelling. It still looked maintained, but even in spite of being newer than Sean's FAL, it looked like it'd gone through the same sort of life in that span of time. Full auto 5.56 always worked, and she knew her Swedish pals always raved about their AK5s. So it was 10 diamonds spent in total.

"Fine. I need five mags, 150 rounds of 5.56, 20 rounds of nine mil, a tactical pack and some pouches."
"That's another eight diamonds." With that, Bethan nodded, the trader bringing out the goods and Bethan simply paying out the 18 total that was spent in this little transaction. Wrapping it up, she handed the stones over, and after a brief inspection, was off on her way, carrying a slung tactical pack over her shoulder and a basic mag carrier vest, with enough room to fit the 5.56 mags she'd also gotten.

She'd gotten what she needed, and checking the black FN over, knew she had something a bit more proper to go to work with. Bethan, like the awkward tourist she was, didn't haggle. It felt more transactional, like she wanted her shit and wanted gone out of this place. Emerging out of the market, she found Sean at an old abandoned fountain, loading rounds into the mags, FAL between his legs, looking up to see Bethan turn up with her FNC.
"Not bad, not bad...can't go wrong with a trusty Fabrique Herstal tool, ain't that so?" Sean noted, nodding to the rifle in her hands, the black and tanned rifle a paratrooper's dream given it was a neat little carbine.
"Well, they work. Mine is definitely better than yours. 5.56 is lighter, nicer to handle too." She smirked with a reply, the seperation somewhat good to give them both distance from each others' malice.
"You definitely overpaid. Newer, but harder used. And you're forgetting that this thing in full auto with a compensator is a Rhodesian's wet dream. Fuck, my CO told me about these. Full auto 7.62, no problemo." Sean chuckled, Bethan disaproving but almost bantering along now.
"What, and you went from one genocide tool from that Mosin to a Rhodesian FAL? Fuck, you kill any more people today and we'll be off to the Hague next..." Bethan said, to almost a cathartic laugh from the two of them. They could be knocked back on their asses again. But this morning, they'd done something more important. Gotten tooled, and while they had gone to hell and back, wanted to shoot each other, and hijacked a truck in a slum and ended up in a dirt-poor market, at least they now had something to show for it. Sean realised that this world could take, but so could they. The laugh almost felt like a "fuck it" moment, the two of them so broken and worn through all that had happened, that they couldn't just remain constantly at each others throats right now.

"What next then? What do you think Victor has for us?" Bethan asked, Sean shrugging as he finished his second from last mag, and started feeding bullets from the last of the plastic bag into the last tan-looking 20-round NATO magazine.
"No idea. But I have a feeling the diamonds were an investment. Not payment, you know? And look at that gun market. Everyone's merchandise is top-notch, not just AKs, SKSs and Zastavas like I thought it would be. The Hyena has resourced every single one of them. I bet our C8s are back in for sale there. Makes you wonder, why aren't we asking them?" Sean asked, musing on the question for a moment.

"You think they know the network? Chances are, no way. The fish above them probably don't know. I've got to guess that they get their instructions and go point to point, drop to drop. The buyers are the people that matter- they're the people who likely interact with The Hyena directly. And those are Victor's bosses, or maybe, their bosses." Bethan replied, shrugging as she got to work with her mags, loading 5.56 rounds into the old, dusty looking STANAG spec steel mags.
"True that. Well, either way, we need to keep going. Whatever we're doing gets us respect from Victor. Gets us diamonds and we can buy what we need from that. Finding transport is gonna help us long run too." Sean sighed, finishing the mag, loading it up and cocking the rifle up, chuckling as he checked the bolt, and then the overall profile of the tool he'd spent his hard earned stones on.

Bethan- 2 diamonds
Sean- 4 diamonds
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