Member
Arista
Metal
Nemaisare
Mairon
meyerlemontree
pugbutter
Fetzen
BarhamMegaera Kastrati
There were certain questions a merc had to answer, now and then. Where did I hide the body? I hid the body right? The body isn't going to give away my position right? Oh god it gave away my position.
Wait did I leave some C4 on the body? I did didn't I? Do I have detonator? Okay how awesome am I?
....should limbs even fly that high?
Question like that truly defined a merc's existence, but other, less pressing questions had their place as well. Questions like does the fact the Akio was hot as anyone outside combat fatigues and isn't currently punching someone can be make up for the fact the was here for foam night? And that be was one of *those* party goers who ruined the fine art of hauling drunks out of the bathroom for everyone else?
....Well. Imagining him with an assault rifle, combat fatigues and laying someone out with a round house had answered that question, and had made Kastrati quite thankful his finely honed sense of self control.
.....Alright so maybe he'd dealt with it by throwing someone into a dumpster. Accidentally. When he'd been escorting them off the premises. It was still dealt with. That was what mattered.
So now he could focus on other things-like weaving his way through a heap of writhing, dancing bodies that had the audacity to call itself a dance floor as he kept his eye out for troublemakers.
And did his best to drown out the music with an ipod, an earbud and copious amounts of metal. The results were mixed. But promising! The stranger sorts of metal always were.
Hm.
A small smile crawled onto Kastrati's face. It was a nasty, lopsided, mercenary thing. It was about time to check the bathrooms again, wasn't it?
There were certain questions a merc had to answer, now and then. Where did I hide the body? I hid the body right? The body isn't going to give away my position right? Oh god it gave away my position.
Wait did I leave some C4 on the body? I did didn't I? Do I have detonator? Okay how awesome am I?
....should limbs even fly that high?
Question like that truly defined a merc's existence, but other, less pressing questions had their place as well. Questions like does the fact the Akio was hot as anyone outside combat fatigues and isn't currently punching someone can be make up for the fact the was here for foam night? And that be was one of *those* party goers who ruined the fine art of hauling drunks out of the bathroom for everyone else?
....Well. Imagining him with an assault rifle, combat fatigues and laying someone out with a round house had answered that question, and had made Kastrati quite thankful his finely honed sense of self control.
.....Alright so maybe he'd dealt with it by throwing someone into a dumpster. Accidentally. When he'd been escorting them off the premises. It was still dealt with. That was what mattered.
So now he could focus on other things-like weaving his way through a heap of writhing, dancing bodies that had the audacity to call itself a dance floor as he kept his eye out for troublemakers.
And did his best to drown out the music with an ipod, an earbud and copious amounts of metal. The results were mixed. But promising! The stranger sorts of metal always were.
Hm.
A small smile crawled onto Kastrati's face. It was a nasty, lopsided, mercenary thing. It was about time to check the bathrooms again, wasn't it?