[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]