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originally posted in:The New Dojo
12/6/2016 6:39:21 AM
1
[i]It wouldn't take long for that psychotic Russian to show his face. After only another half an hour, the crunching of snow was heard rapidly approaching, as well as a string of muttered swears and death threats. He was livid a the Vileblood, as he was practically always.
Jason was [b]not[/b] wearing his armour for once, finally having been able to tear himself away from the love of his life. He was mostly unarmed, too, with the only gun on him being a goddamn .50 calibre gatling gun, or a GAU-19/B. It, instead of the traditional belt, had a small box covering the feed, in which was a hardlight printer thing. The giant gun was currently at the ride side of Jason's back, his cybernetic arm being pretty capable of handling its recoil.
Now, for clothes, Jason was wearing a simple white T-shirt that hugged his muscular physique nicely, showing them off as if he wanted them to be seen. Which he did, since he was mighty proud of his manliness - especially at forty. On his chest, proudly displayed, were his dogtags, which showed the Russian's date of birth, his full name, etcetera. Covering his legs were a pair of camoflauged pants, with a set of black army boots on his feet. [/i]
"Mothafuсkin', black, big tittied whоres in da middle o' fuсkin' Dubai, I cannot believe I'm doin' dis fuсkin' shiet."
[i]He muttered to himself, seeming to throw in a swear at every single chance he got. He took a seat opposite of Irina, the chair giving somewhat of a groan in protest under his weight. He then glared at the Vileblood, before directing his attention to his left arm, right hand wrapping a belt around it, in the usual place for injection addicts as well as people who needed to get their blood tapped. [/i]
"Fuсk yee,"
[i]He said, looking back over at Irina, before immediately shifting his attention again as his right hand produced a syringe from one of his pockets. He jabbed the syringe into his arm, the string of curses and death threats still continuing as he injected himself. Soon enough, he pulled the needle out, stuffing it back in his pocket, before taking the belt off his arm and stuffing that away as well. Then, after a few minutes, the string of mean words stopped as the drugs kicked in.
Jason had just drugged himself so he wouldn't fly at Irina's throat. [/i]
English
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[i]The outfit definitely surprised the Vileblood, but the gun didn't exactl-[/i] [i]...Oh. It was a gatling gun.[/i] [i]While Irina had gone against gatling gun users in the distant past (Yes, there is a Gatling Gun in Bloodborne.), she doubted that she could reasonably prepare for...well, this. As Jason plopped down and proceeded to take the drug, Irina only smirked as he spewed out insults and curses; she had dealt with that shit for years now. From death threats from furious civilians to nearly being arrested by crooked cops for "Disturbing the peace" (Which mind you, Irina thought that was perfectly fine.), she had dealt with it all, especially what Jason was speaking of.[/i] [u]"Yeah, 'n fook ya too, ya slimeh piece o' shit!"[/u] [i]Irina laughed at her own shitty impersonation of Jason, clearly finding some sort of amusement in the entire situation. Which people usually didn't do when the mother-blam!-er that was angry at them had a big ass gun. [/i]
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[i]Jason went completely and utterly dead silent. Even a corpse couldn't be as silent as he was. His eyes slowly looked back over to Irina, both grey-silver lookers narrowed, face expressionless. Then, slowly, the corners of Jason's lips curled up into a grin, before Oldseph Joestar burst into laughter, his right hand slamming down into the table.. Which was a bad idea, as the whole table was utterly destroyed. Though the Russian, in his drugged position, didn't even care or realize. After a while, the laughter died down, and Jason returned to silently look at Irina, a dreamy smile on his face, which showed his perfect teeth because my characters aren't allowed to have flaws. He chuckled, right hand slowly reaching out to the Vileblood.. Before softly poking her nose, the word "boop" leaving Jason's lips, after which he chuckled again. He withdrew his hand, and returned to silently observe Irina.[/i]
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[i]Irina hadn't moved at all as Jason had slammed jammed that table - but she certainly did jolt from the sudden "boop". She almost jumped away, still remaining in her iron chair's seat.[/i] [u]"...What...the hell."[/u] [i]To say the least?[/i] [i]Irina was hella confused. She figured that it was a trap of some kind - that the Russian man had set up some sort of trick so he could tear her to shreds with the gun he had, or crush her head as her back was turned, or...Irina didn't understand it at all.[/i]
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Edited by Nibber Schipper: 12/7/2016 12:10:09 AM[i]Well, you see, you wouldn't even reply if I did ANYTHING like that, and don't even try to tell me otherwise. So.. Jason only grinned, clearly drugged out of his goddamn mind if his dilated pupils and dreamy expression were any indication. He chuckled softly, slowly inhaling, and then exhaling a few times. Once he had calmed himself down, his left hand started to fidget with his right.[/i] "But, uh, how're ya? 'Nd, yes, before ya ask: I will resume mah witch hunt once I'm sober. Cuz I realleh don' like ya. 'Nd, I mean, y'definiteleh deserve it, with da whole mass murderin' shenanigans y've got goin fo' yerself. I mean, if it weren' fo' tha' incapable heap o' scrap Tesuto or wha'eva his name is.." [i]He snorted, a toothy grin on his face as he continued to fidget with his hand, which was already detached from the wrist, with it being a grappling hook and stuff. Handy arm, definitely. [/i]
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[u]"Hey. Hey...[/u] [u]...We need to work out a deal, or something. Because y'know, I've got better things to do than get brutally murdered. Perhaps...oh. I can get you a girl, I dunno. Or more drugs, or more guns. Pelts?"[/u] [i]Irina didn't exactly sound too desperate to gain Jason's trust, though she was offering a lot. She honestly expected him to react terribly. Some sort of insult or "I onleh want ya skull, ya bitch.", one of the other. She had begun to lean back in her iron chair, a sly grin upon her face. She had realized that she was close enough to where she could just be a colossal bitch and bust Jason's blood vessels instantaneously, but where was the fun in that?[/i]
