[i]Jason had heard about a chance to get money, and as such, Jason showed up, for Jason enjoyed getting money. The Russian basically just casually walked up to the pair as if hunting monsters was the most normal thing in the world, dressed in his typical armour, carrying his typical equipment -- lots of guns, basically. Seemed he was rather... overqualified for the hunt, if anything, because holy shit he wore enough weaponry to supply an army. On his lower back, right above his derriere, he had the chrome grip of what seemed to be a lightsaber, practically identical to what Artemis wore, about a foot in length and made out of light metal as it just waited to be activated. Above the deactivated weapon, he held two identical twin shotguns, each loaded with a big drum, each painted a matte black, their grips sticking out above Jason's shoulders since they were diagonal. In between the shotguns and the energy-saber, there was a matte black Barrett M107A1, loaded with a ten-round box magazine, though the barrel had been screwed off for easy of transport. On his right hip, he held a big, beefy, black revolver, the thing holding only three rounds in its cylinder, though they were twice the size of a .50 BMG. Finally, last but definitely not least, he held a bit of normalcy. Finally, something that wasn't stupidly sci-fi. It was a simplistic FN FAL, holding the same bland - if stylish - paintjob as the rest of his weapons, and his armour, too. It was equipped with a big drum magazine, while a simplistic red-dot sight was equipped to the attachment rail on top. The safety was clearly on, while his finger wasn't even on the trigger.[/i]" "Yo."