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04:09:58 Aug 19th 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

An assassin's greatest tool is not the rifle, or the pistol, or the knife, or any amount of explosives. An assassin's greatest tool is their body. The best assassins only need to apply the correct amount of pressure in the correct place to kill a target, or they merely need to loosen a few bolts above where their target is going to speak. But, in the beginning, an assassin must depend upon their rifle, their pistol, their knife, or explosives, for every great must start as a nothing.

***

[[OOC: The theme of the game is the life of an assassin. You can kill once per day. There are several weapons, and I will do my best to list them all. You can also upgrade your weapons. You start with a simple pocket knife.

Weapons:

Melee weapons - Melee weapons range from knives for close quarters silent executions to katanas for those crazy enough to kill their target with one...
Pocket knife - 10 dollars 
Hunting knife - 20 dollars
Survival knife - 30 dollars
Bowie knife - 50 dollars
Katana - 100 dollars.

Pistols - Decent range, can be concealed.
FP-45 liberator - 26 dollars - The liberator is a terrible weapon, it literally takes longer to load than to produce, with the production time being 2 seconds and the reload time being 10 seconds. It uses a single shot mechanism. Actual liberators are World War II collector's items, but you can make a fake for 26 bucks.
.38. snub nose revolver - 100 dollars.
Single action revolver - 200 dollars.
Glock-26 - 450 dollars - can be fitted with a silencer for 475 dollars.
Beretta M9 - 700 dollars - can be fitted with a silencer for 550 dollars.
Colt M1911 - 2000 dollars - Standard issue sidearm in the US military from 1911 to 1985, can be fitted with a silencer for 580 dollars.

Submachine guns -
TEC-DC9 - 500 dollars -One of the most feared weapons on the streets, can be outfitted with a silencer for 400 dollars.
Mac-10 - 1000 dollars - Can be outfitted with a silencer for 900 dollars.
MP5 - 2500 dollars - can be outfitted with a silencer for 2000 dollars.

Shotguns -
Hunting shotgun - 200 dollars.

Sniper rifles-
Hunting rifle - 200 dollars
M40 sniper rifle - 2000 dollars
PSG1 - 10000 dollars - can be outfitted with a silencer for 5000 dollars.
Parker Hale M85 - 100000 dollars, can be outfitted with a silencer for 5000 dollars.

Explosives - Each can only be used once.
Pipe bomb - 100 dollars.
Grenade - 1000 dollars
C4 - 25000 dollars
Car ignition bomb - 10000 dollars.

There are more of course, I will put them when people start making enough to afford them.

Clothing - Clothing can affect what jobs you will recieve, it also affects how you blend in with your surroundings. You may want a set of green camoflague for forest assassinations, or you could get a tuxedo for a high profile assassination at a party. You start out with a pair of black sweat pants, a pair of cheap sneakers, and a white T-shirt.

Pants
Sweat pants (blue, black, white, gray) - 5 dollars
Cargo pants (tan, blue, black, woodland camo, urban camo) - 20 dollars
Jeans (blue, black) - 40 dollars
Dress pants (white, blue, black, red, yellow, green) - 100 dollars
Tuxedo pants - 200 dollars

Top
T-shirt (white, black, blue, green, yellow, red) - 2 dollars.
Windbreaker (black, blue) - 20 dollars.
Long sleeve shirt (white, black, blue, green, yellow, red) - 15 dollars
Hooded sweatshirt (white, black, blue, green, yellow, red, gray) - 20 dollars
Leather jacket (black, brown) - 60 dollars.
Winter jacket (black, brown, blue) - 50 dollars.
Camo jacket (woodland, urban, jungle, mud) - 50 dollars.
Sports jacket (blue, black, red, yellow, green, white) - 150 dollars.
Ties (blue, black, red, yellow, green, white, striped) - 20 dollars.
Tuxedo top - 300 dollars.

Shoes
Cheap sneakers (white, black, red, blue) - 10 dollars.
Tennis shoes (white, black, red, blue) - 50 dollars.
Hiking boots - 50 dollars.
Dress shoes (black, brown, white) - 50 dollars.

Extras
Pistol holster - 50 dollars - required to efficiently holster your pistol.
Belt - 10 dollars - required to hold your pants up. (XD)
Ski mask (black, green, blue, tan) - 5 dollars - conceals your identity, but attracts attention.
Gloves
Latex gloves - 2 dollars.
Leather gloves - 10 dollars

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

Assassination types
Cheap assassinations - Done in poor areas on targets ranging from crack addicts to small time drug dealers,
pay = 100 dollars
tools required = at least a pocket knife

Upper cheat assassinations - Done in poor areas on targets ranging from murderers to drug dealers.
pay = 500 dollars
tools required = at least a snub nose revolver.

Average assassinations - Done in middle class areas on targets ranging from men who don't pay debts to small time thugs.
pay = 2500 dollars
tools required = at least a silenced glock

Upper average assassinations - Done in middle class areas on targets ranging from small time bosses to smuggling ringleaders.
pay = 5000 dollars
tools required = at least a silenced druganov sniper rifle or silenced Colt 1911.

High profile assassinations - Done in high class districts with targets ranging from mafia Dons to senators.
pay = 25000 dollars
tools required - silenced PSG1 sniper rifle.

Very high profile assassinations - Done in highly secure areas with targets ranging from leaders of countries to multi-billionaires.
pay = 100,000 dollars
tools required: Parker Hale M85 sniper rifle with silencer.

You must do at least ten assassinations in each category to get enough respect for the next.

And finally, use the appropriate clothing for each approach. I don't want anybody using a suit when assassinating a Cuban drug lord in the jungle...and now, have fun...


04:19:36 Aug 19th 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: You must also buy food, you must eat at least five food points worth a day to maintain health. I will list a few, everything is basically 2 dollars a food point, so it costs around ten dollars a day to feed yourself.

Apple - 2 dollars - 1 food point
Chicken - 4 dollars - 2 food points
Steak - 6 dollars - 3 food points
Chips - 2 dollars - 1 food point
Hamburger - 4 dollars - 2 food points.
Salad - 4 dolalrs - 3 food points]]


04:26:39 Aug 19th 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC:

Starting out

As I said: You start out with a pocket knife, sweat pants, a t-shirt, and cheap sneakers. You also have ten dollars and a very empty motel room. The motel room costs 20 dollars a day, if you want to sleep on the streets you can, though you have a high chance of getting mugged. Until you buy your first hideout you may only carry one melee weapon and one pistol.
Living area
Low quality motel (roach motel) - 20 dollars a day
Medium quality motel (decent motel, like a Best Western) - 100 dollars a day
High quality motel - 250 dollars a day.
Small hideout - 5000 dollars - can stash three weapons.
Medium hideout - 15000 dollars - can stash six weapons.
Large hideout - 25000 dollars - can stash nine weapons.]]


04:47:48 Aug 19th 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

Jack Harris sits against the wall of his small motel room. As he sharpens his pocket knife he thinks about the task he was assigned to do. He was to kill a drug addict by the name of Honzo Verditez. The addict had ripped off a dealer, and the dealer was not very happy about it. Jack finished sharpening his knife and looked around. There was a small TV set, a bed that looked unsafe to sleep on, and a nightstand. This was his first murder, his first job, and he intended to make it a good one. He put the pocket knife in his right pocket and walked out the door.

***

Jack reached a crackhouse, the windows were boarded, the front door held on by a very old hinge. Jack walked up the steps and entered. He saw a man on his right and asked him where Honzo was.
"Little-H? He's in the back bro," said the man.
Jack walked down the hallway and reached the back to find that Honzo was passed out on the floor. Jack approached the table, on it was a heroin needle already filled next to a few bags of heroin, the drugs that the addict had ripped off. Jack grabbed an old wash cloth from the sink and used it to cover his hand as he grabbed the needle. He stabbed it into Honzo's arm and Honzo didn't move, Jack pressed his thumb down, and that was when he heard a quiet voice in the back of his head.
I am Septim, and I have killed.
Am I hearing voices in my head?
Jack heard no more, Septim had been his nickname as a very small child. It had been given to him by his Uncle Pentil after he had stolen seven cookies from the cookie jar and lied about it. Honzo soon died of an overdose. Septim then pulled the needle out and set it on the ground next to Honzo's corpse. He then grabbed the heroin, looked around, and ran out the back door into the shadows.

***

That was the deal, one hundred dollars for a few bags of heroin and the man's death. The heroin was worth more than a hundred, much more, but Septim had only one thing left, his word, and he would never break it for anybody. Septim paid his rent, bought a salad and an apple (not having an oven to cook the other choices), and ate. Afterwards he went to sleep.

[[OOC:
Name: Jack Harris
Nickname: Septim
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Money: 94 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (white)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (gray)
Kills:
1 cheap assassination
Lodgings: Cheap motel]]


05:35:12 Aug 19th 08 - Sir Charley Statler:

Edward Deallus looked across the street at his target, a small-time drug dealer who was getting to big for his own good.  Ed casually walked across the street and near the man, who was called C-Dawg by his friends.  C-Dawg called to Ed as he walked past.

"Hey man, I got some good stuff right here.  I know dis is whatcha lookin for around here."

"Hmm let's take a look at it back out of sight so no one gets suspicious."

The two men walked back into the alley, with C-Dawg in front.  Ed then pulled out his knife and jammed it into the back of C-Dawg's neck at the spinal cord, severing it.  C-Dawg pitched sideways and was dead before he even hit the ground.  Ed took everything that he could, which gave him about $100, before heading to his cheap motel a few blocks away.  He managed to get a steak, chips, and an apple from a small place along the way.  He hopped on his uncomfortable bed and went to sleep.

Name: Edward Deallus
Nickname: Ed
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Money: 94 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (white)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (gray)
Kills: 1 cheap assassination
Lodgings: Cheap motel


06:19:39 Aug 19th 08 - Mr. Onex:

[[the food point thing is where I begin to get a headache, but I'll give this assasination thing a shot (no pun intended]]

   Sitting on an uncomfortable park bench, the the street light above him cast a cold white light, that flickered due to the moths that buzzed mindlessly around it. Zach Pearson was what it said on his birth certificate, a document he had burned long ago along with his foster parents house, he didn't like them, and he didn't like his name. Because his employers wanted to call him something, they called him simply "Smith" on account of his ability to blend into crowds, to come and leave without anyone knowing it had happened. He had little to his name, just his clothes, and the small gerber pocket knife he held in his hand.

   He felt no connection to his surroundings, this wasn't his home, no place was his home, and therefore he felt no emotion, no remorse for anyone that lived and worked here, caught in the monotonous cycle of modern society. They worked and worked, and for what? A few weeks a year of not having to work. None of them ever moved ahead, some of them got poorer, even the minor crack dealer he was about to take down was a part of a system, a system designed so that he would die before he ever achieved what he desired, just like everyone else, except faster.

   Lifting his head and checking in both directions he saw the street was still empty, turning he looked over his shoulder, behind him sat an old park, used less by kids and more by drug dealers, the white light creeped into the park, but did not go far, as though it knew that what went on there must remain hidden. He pulled a broken sports watch out of his pocket that he had found, just the strap was broken, it still kept time, the dealer should be here any minute, he didn't like the fact that the dealer might see him first. It wouldn't be the first time a double sabotage had been planned. Getting up slowly he walked back and set by the fence, now being careful to watch for any movement.

    He did not have to wait long, strolling down the sidewalk the dealer clearly had no fears. Standing up he faced the dealer, who continued to take his sweet time. Finally coming to a stop ten feet away from him, the dealer spoke, "Yo, you got my ****in money?" Smith didn't change his expression, looking the man over he observed the black do-rag, white muscle shirt, and saggy jeans, doubtlessly stuffed with the drugs, looking at his shoes he thought he noticed something bulging at an odd angle from his leg. "You didn't bring no ****in gun did you?" he replied. The dealer held his hands up, "Man watevu, check me if you want, you just wastin my ****in time." Walking towards the dealer he took said, "Alright, and Big-D wanted me to tell you somethin." the dealer let on hand drop to his side, the other casually scratching his head, a grin spread on his face, "Maan, what the hell D wanna tell me?" shoving the knife into the mans stomach several times, the dealer slumped against him, throwing the man on the ground, he placed a knee on each of his arms and held his knife to the dying mans throat, the dealer looked back at him in shocked silence, "He don't like you." Smith said simply, puncturing his neck twice, he took the drugs from his pockets along with a small amount of cash and left him alone for the last seconds of his life. The dealer turned his head to watch the blood shining coldly in the white light as it ran down the concrete toward the street, then he died. The moths continued to buzz.

 [[OOC: I'll buy food later, it's like 1 in the morning now, in the story

Name: Zach Pearson

Nickname: Smith

Height: 6' 1/2"

Weight: 195 lbs

Money:85 dollars

Weapon: pocket knife

Clothing:

1 black jeans (pleeease, I dont want it to seem like we're in uniform)

1 white T-shirt

1 cheap pair of sneakers (gray)

Kills:

1 cheap assasinations

Lodgings: will be a cheap motel]]


06:24:38 Aug 19th 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: For the food, just eat a steak and a chicken every day. Ten bucks, nice round number...then you don't even have to think anymore. And no black jeans, pay for a pair, that's all you have to do...]]


07:21:35 Aug 19th 08 - Mr. Onex:

[[ok, fine. -_-]]

  Finds a place serving chicken and steak at 1:25 in the morning in the ghetto, then realizes he's not wearing pants and steals some black sweatpants from a hobo.

Money:75 dollars


07:26:22 Aug 19th 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: You know, they say no shirt, no shoes, no service, but they never make a mention of pants...:-D]]


07:37:07 Aug 19th 08 - Mr. Onex:

[[yes the image of my whole introductory seen has changed drastically now :D But I guess we'll just assume I lost my pants along the way. This is the ghetto after all. :-)]]


00:20:23 Aug 20th 08 - Mr. Arvious VI:

Outside a run-down motel, a group of gang members were walking through the streets.  They all lean on the walls, smoking something in theit mouths.  After a while, most of them leave but one.  The one stays behind to see if he can mug some passing people.  After a while, the man snoozes off, and falls asleep on the sidewalk.

"You've got to be kidding me, he falls asleep at night on a street?"

Davis Paysmen was walking out of the motel, holding something in his hand.  He aproaches the sleeping man, and kneels at the man's side, poking him awake.

"You should at least be awake," Davis says, and he slits the mans throat.  He grabs one of the matches the man had on him and lit it, but not before taking the man's cool shades.  Davis pulls the body into the dumpster, and throws the match in it.

Davis received a call from the man who assigned him the kill.

"Aight man,  a deals a deal.  The money's right outside the door.  And nice touch about burning the body.  See you around, kid."

Davis goes outside his motel room, grabs the envelope, and walks back in his room, satisfied.

Later, Davis heads over to the local mall, buying a salad and two apples.


Name: Davis Paysmen
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 169 pounds
Money: 92 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (black)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (black)
Kills:
1 cheap assassination
Lodgings: Cheap motel


01:55:20 Aug 20th 08 - Mr. Onex:

[[I'm just assuming that we're following an order, and I'm going after septim, correct me if I'm wrong :D.


02:00:53 Aug 20th 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: Nope, we post once per day. :-D]]


03:23:25 Aug 20th 08 - Mr. Onex:

[[OOC: kk  so can anyone join at any time :D]]


03:26:31 Aug 20th 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: Yes, but as in Prominence they may be behind... :-D]]


07:48:35 Aug 20th 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: Holy hell, I just finished an enormous guide on just HANDGUNS. I still have revolvers, sniper rifles, assault rifles, and SMGs to go...but, take a look. It's extensive, have fun finding a gun! Since I don't have time to post an assassination (I have to keep going! :D), I will just post my stats as if I had done an assassination today...]]

[[OOC:
Name: Jack Harris
Nickname: Septim
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Money: 151 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (white)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (gray)
Kills:
1 cheap assassination
Lodgings: Cheap motel]]


15:35:12 Aug 20th 08 - Mr. Killer:

[Errr... nice list Septim...]

*Killer took his dog out for a walk. It was a scraggly looking mutt, but no one would have suspected what he was about to do. He was just another man walking his dog. Admittedly not too many walked their dogs in these parts, but still it didn't matter. His sneakers smacked loudly against the pavement, the blasted bottoms were loose and falling off. He bend down and with one quick motion pulled the shoes off, which came off easily to their three sizes too big. He left them on the street. No one would pay a second glance in these parts to bare feet anyway. And he had one better also, he had socks on. He continued ambling down the street, the dog unfortunately pulling him faster with its leash. Not one for cruelty to animals, Killer let himself be carried along instead of yanking the dog back and strangling its scrawny neck.
            He arrived quickly to where he wanted to go, with some difficulty steering the dog the right way. It was a small house, but it still towered over most of the other run-down, dilapidated buildings. He rung the bell, surprised when he heard it actually made a noise. A man answered the door, his target. "Who the hell are you? I hope you're not selling anything, I can't stand those people." Killer smirked, and answered. "I am selling something. Death." With that he drew his pocket knife and pushed the man inside out of view, stabbing him repeatedly. He took his shoes, ordinary sneakers, closer to his size then the last ones, and stole the man's wallet, and quickly ran off into the night, the dog close behind. He opened the wallet when back in the hotel, and found ninety dollars within, but nothing else. The man had deserved it, a one-time killer, and had let another man take the blame... Killer slipped out into the night to buy some food, and brought a tin of dog food back for his dog(10 dollars)*

Name: Unknown
Nickname: Killer
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 135 lbs.
Money: 50 dollars

Weapons:
 Pocket knife
Dog(?)

Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (black)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (black)

Kills:
1 cheap assassination

Lodgings: Cheap motel


17:31:44 Aug 20th 08 - Sir Charley Statler:

Ed was looking around for possible targets when he saw a friend of C-Dawg's named Jay.  Jay was another drug dealer and Ed followed him back to his cheap hotel and waited for nighttime to come.  While Jay was sleeping, Ed opened the cheap window and placed a pillow over Jay's face until he suffocated.  Ed took the $100 that he found on Jay and left the drugs for the police.  Ed then went shopping for some new clothes to replace his old crappy ones.

Name: Edward Deallus
Nickname: Ed
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Money: 60 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 Cargo Pants (Urban Camo)
1 Long-Sleeved T-shirt (Black)
1 pair of tennis shoes (Black)
1 pair of shades (Black)
1 baseball cap (random team)
Kills: 2 cheap assassinations
Lodgings: Cheap motel


17:41:17 Aug 20th 08 - Mr. Sephiroth:

John began walking towards the bridge where all the bums hide under. He was young and knew he was ready, as his ancestors had gone before him. He walked under the bridge and found a Shantyville. There were many there but he didn’t have to ask as he could see the Rolex the man had stolen shining in the morning light.  He waited for him to be alone and saw him leave to go relieve his bladder. John walked up behind the stupefied drunk, and jammed the knife through his temple, killing him instantly. He fell to the ground so John removed the watch and rolled his soiled body into the river.

He was paid 100 dollars for his efforts. He decided to take up lodging in a cheap motel. John went to the market and bought a salad and an apple. He returned home exhausted and went to sleep.

Name: John Bellingham
Nickname:None
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 203 lbs.
Money: 94 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (white)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (gray)
Kills:
1 cheap assassination
Lodgings: Cheap motel]]

 


00:59:15 Aug 21st 08 - Mr. Arvious VI:

[[Septim... you know that weapon lists can be short and simple, right?  Also, in my post, I drink a coffee.  How much would that cost?]]

Davis was sleeping in his run down room when his phone rang.  He looked at his clock to see that it was 5:29 AM.  Davis said a few choice words, and went to answer the phone.  He saw it was the same guy who hired him before.  Davi*beep* the talk button, and said, "Ello, Richard."

"Hey, Paysmen," Richard answered.

"Heh, is that still my nickname?  My last name is Belms, you know."

"Yeah, well, old habits are hard to break.  Anyway, I got a new job for you.  A new DD's in town, and he's apparently got word of me.  Dunno how he didn't earlier.  Anyway, he's just taking my money, but, hell, I'm making good cash everyday, no amatuer 's gonna stop that.  But now he's decided to take a more 'bigger role in town'.  As in he's becoming a little pain in the ass.  You now what to do."

"Aight, I'll get on it."

Davis puts the phone down and walks into his bathroom.  He could smell the mold in the room.

"Well, at least this place never gets asked funny questions," he said as he slapped deoderant on.  He walked out, put his shoes on, grabs his knife and shades, and heads outside, ready for his next kill.

***

Davis was sitting outside a cafe, drinking a coffee to try and wake him up a little.  He walked back to the sidwalk, looking for his target.  The man apparently was white, had a thin beard, wore ragged clothing, and always had a stupid green had on.  With descriptions this exact, it wasn't hard to spot the guy walking with another guy towards an alley.  Davis walked towards the alley, still drinking hsi coffee.  He walks about five feet when he sees the man selling something that Davis couldn't see, and decided to wait for the buyer to leave.  The man paid, and left out of the alleyway.  Then, Davis walked up to the man counting his bills.

"Hehe, sucker, paid five Ben's for a sack of Advil... Hey, you there.  I'm guessing you're here for me, aight?"

"You could say it that way," Davis replied.

The man smiled, and turned around, looking in the sack he dropped on the ground.  Davis stabbed the knife into the man's chest, and ripped it up to the throat, leaving a huge cut in the man's body.  Davis, cleaned his blade, stached the body behind the dumpster, walked out of the alley, and made his way back to the motel.  He grabbed the phone, and called Richard.

"Hey, Richard."

"Davis!  Do I even need to ask that you did the job?  Man, you're a natural, you are.  Aight, I'll get the money to you quickly."

"Alright, cya then," Davis said.

***

After recieving his money, he headed down to the mall, where he bought a pair of jeans, a belt, a salad, and a juicy hamburger.  He headed back home, and went to sleep immediantly, after being woke up at 4:30 that morning.

Name: Davis Belms
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 169 pounds
Money: 112 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-Shirt (black)
1 black belt
1 pair of cheap sneakers (black)
Kills:
2 cheap assassinations
Lodgings: Cheap Motel


05:41:14 Aug 21st 08 - Mr. Onex:

Sitting quietly on a bed in a bad motel room he looked around him, it was the kind of place you wouldn't even take a hooker, there were holes in the wall, stains and burns on the carpet, there was no hot water, and the rats didn't give a dam who saw them stealing food. One that he had seen in the hallway looked as though it would jump any cat that looked at him the wrong way. But he had made to many enemies to live on the streets, one good thing about cheap motels in bad part of town, is that most of them carried heavy locks. As he got up from the bed it groaned like an old mans knees, he walked over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, for the most part he was average looking, fairly tan, short brown hair, no beard. The only feature that stood out were his eyes, a grey-blue color that had a ring of darker blue around it, looking into them they appeared animal like, like a predator that showed no emotion. Splashing some water on his face he looked back at himself, his sinister look was accented by the flickering light in the bathroom. Walking back he sat down on the protesting bed and began sharpening his knife, this relaxed him some, he enjoyed the way metal shone in the light, the neverchanging stability and nobility of it all, flesh was nothing to it, it had a job, and it did it's job well. Just as he began getting lost in some of his happier memories the phone rang, effectively throwing off his train of thought. No one knew he was here, except one man, and he didn't know the room number. Picking up the phone he asked calmly, "Who's this." he heard a familiar voice on the other line, "You know dam well who this is." this wasn't good, he was always contacted in person, or by a certain payphone, "How'd you know I was here?" "What are you playin at? Next time don't register the room to Smith, how many smith's you know in the hood?" he had a point, he wouldn't make the same mistake again, "So why'd you call?" "Don't play a fool wit me, I want those rocks,  you can keep whateva other sh** you foun in his pockets. Swing by and I'll pay you for da gank. Then I got another errand I need you to run." surprised he was still employed after not reporting directly to him, he agreed and hung up.

         Walking down through the littered streets of the city he saw a bike that had been losely chained and locked to a no parking sign, "dumbass" he muttered as he lifted the bike up over his head, struggling for a moment to get the chain slipped over the sign. As soon as it was set free he wasted no time pedaling off, the sun was starting to rise, and he didn't feel like killing someone in brood daylight for a bike. Now he set off at a faster, if less intimidating manner towards Big D's chop-shop.

        Stepping into the small, stuffy, dimly lit office he was met by the usual cloud of strong cigar smoke. Looking around at what he could see through the haze it appeared to be a normal office, stacks of files, some loose papers, hell even a computer, but a couple of things weren't right, firstly there was large black thug in a muscle shirt staring him down from the corner, openly weilding a gun in one of his hands that was crossed over his body, and secondly there were several small stacks of money on the desk, a brick of weed, and a crack pipe. Finally he looked at Big D, who had successfully earned his name by the looks of things, he was big, and the office chair he was currently torturing seemed as though it was going to give out at any moment. Looking at his face, the glowing source of the smoke showed itself, a large cigar sticking out sideways from a fat, bald head. Smith started to walk towards the wood and leather chair in front of D's desk, "Man wat makes you think you gonna need to sit down. you ain't gonna be here that long." D boomed out of the side of his mouth, "Gimme da rocks." Taking the large ziploc bag out of his pants he laid it on the desk, D snapped at the armed gorilla in the corner, "Yo give em his money." The man standing in the corner approached him and shoved some folded twenties into his chest. Smith would have like nothing better at that point than to break all of his fingers, unfourtunately he didn't have a gun, and the big smirking *beep* in front of him did, and so did everyone in this building actually.... he really needed a gun. Taking the money he counted it quickly, there was 120 bucks there, "You got an extra buck in there for bringing the rocks back here instead of wastin my time trackin you down." Stashing the money he looked back at D, expecting his next assignment, "The next stupid motha ****** I need you to cut up should be easy, you know the gang we've been fueding with about territories by the subway, find one of em and slice em up real good, leave em as close to their territory as you can get, it's a fear thing, so make it look good." D waved him off, "you got two days." he didn't waste time leaving, the gorilla in the corner had already begun walking towards him. Outside he found his bike was still there, he smiled, a rare thing, in this neighborhood setting something outside D's was better than locking it. Going a little bit out of the way to McDonalds he got a Chicken salad. He would wait till tommorrow night to do the hit.

 [[OOC:

Name: Zach Pearson

Nickname: Smith

Height: 6' 1/2"

Weight: 195 lbs

Money: 187

Weapon: pocket knife

Clothing:

1 black jeans (pleeease, I dont want it to seem like we're in uniform)

1 white T-shirt

1 cheap pair of sneakers (gray)

Kills:

1 cheap assasinations

Lodgings: will be a cheap motel]]


05:50:26 Aug 21st 08 - Mr. Onex:

[[woah forgot to update some things on my profile above, I have submitted to the mandatory black sweatpants, and obviously from the post I'm in a cheap motel....]]


06:32:49 Aug 21st 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: Coffee = 2 dollars. And btw, you no longer have to have a specific gun to do certain assassinations. Instead you must complete ten of the previous type. Also, if you do not have the right weapon for the job (you kill the president with a pocket knife), then they'll have a positive ID on you, meaning you must do something to shake them.
Hide out for a while - Cost: 100 dollars, works if caught doing a bad upper cheap assassination (pocket knife rather than a low quality {100-150 dollar} pistol. You lose three days.
Blackmail a political figure - Cost: 10000 dollars, works if caught doing a bad medium assassination (using a low quality weapon (0-200 dollars)). Take pictures of an important political figure in a disgraceful situation.
Facial Reconstructive Surgery - Cost: 100000 dollars, works if caught doing any bad assassination. Your face is changed drastically, you recieve new fingerprints, you also recieve a new identity.

Weapon price required:
Cheap: 0+
Upper cheap: 100+
Medium: 200+
Upper medium: 400+
High profile: 600+
Upper high profile: 1000+ (good idea to make this a sniper rifle...) ]]

Septim woke up to an annoying buzz and turned off his sad excuse for an alarm clock. He got up, grabbed his pocket knife, and walked out the door. After tailing a homeless man for two hours he finally manages to cut the man's throat with his pocket knife. He then takes a parcel of pictures from his body (wearing his latex gloves). He runs off and gives the pictures to his client and recieves 100 dollars. Septim pays his rent, buys a salad and two apples, and eats. He then watches TV until he falls asleep.


[[OOC:
Name: Jack Harris
Nickname: Septim
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Money: 208 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (white)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (gray)
Kills: 
3 cheap assassination
Lodgings: Cheap motel]]


06:35:24 Aug 21st 08 - Mr. Onex:

[[I think I'm going to have to start making my posts more like that, I don't know if I can do the full page thing every day. :D]]


11:04:03 Aug 21st 08 - Lord Nephilim The Redeemer:

*Looks at his phone*

Target infomation:

Name: Alex Morgen
Nickname: Corrupt
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Occupation: Small time Drug Dealer

*close his phone*

Slade then Walks to the laundrymate were he picks up his tighty whitys from then he walks to the ghetto were he spots corrupt.
He watchs as Corrupt and his Lapdogs bully around drug addicts that cant pay there debt, Slade walks over to where corrupt and his lapdog Ashten and his brother Becker are.
Becker yells out"What do you want white boy" Ashten yells"your in the wrong hood B!tch"
*Slade laughs and starts to run towards them*

The three men laugh back and Becker and Ashton pull out switch blades Becker takes a stab at Slade but Slade grabs his arm and snaps it.

*Becker falls to the ground screaming*

then Ashton slashes at Slade so slad grabs his neck and snaps it in four diffrent places.

*Ashton drops to the ground*

Slade grabs both knifes and walks towards corrup.t
Corrupt starts pleading "please man come on you dont have to do this, i can hook you up anything you wan come on man"

*Slade stabs both switchbaldes into corrupts legs*
*Corrupt falls to the ground*

Slade then Shouts "BITE THE GUTTER SCUMBAG"
*Corrupt still pleading not to kill him*

*Slade grabs corrupts head and places his mouth on the gutter*

Slade then laughts and as he gutter stomps Corrupt
Slade then goes though Corrupts pockets to collect $50 in cash and a peanut
Becker then got up and Sreamed"You killed my brother YOUR A DEAD MAN"

*becker then runs towards Slade*

and ask quick as lighting slade grabs one of the switch blades from Corrupts leg and slices Beckers throat.

*Becker Drops to the ground and lies in a puddle of blood*

then then gets and his phone from his pocket and replys to the message he got earlier

Target Eliminated 

Slade then Walks back to his hotel and buys a chicken and an Apple ans sits down on his bed and eats it.

 

[[OOC:
Name: Unknown
Nickname: Slade
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Money:  $74
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (white)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (gray)
Kills: 
1 cheap assassination
Lodgings: Cheap motel]]

[[OOC: this is like my first RP so im sorry in advance if you think its *beep*]]


17:41:31 Aug 21st 08 - Mr. Onex:

[[it's not BAD, but you should try to read it over before you post it, you can usually catch spelling errors and parts that don't make that much sense. =)]]


22:11:37 Aug 21st 08 - Sir Charley Statler:

Ed sat in his apartment and waited for his next job.  He recieved a text with his target and he strolled out of the apartment.  It was a rainy day and was also later in the evening.  He pulled his ballcap lower over his eyes and he put his shades away since it was too dark for them.  He saw his target walk into a pharmacy, and then he came out several minutes later with a number of bags.  Ed walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Watcha got in the bags there Hal?"
"Wha? How do ya know meh name? Who are you?"
"Let's just say I am interested in what ya got.  Let's go over here so we can make a....business transaction."
"Yah, whateva buddy.  Just make it quick cuz I gotta be places and gettin wet in dis rain."

Ed led Hal into the alleyway next door to the pharmacy and sat on a dumpster.  Hal opened his bag and glanced over at Ed.
"So what can I put you down for?  I'm friends with the doc so he gets me what I need."
"Is that so....? Well just come over here and lemme have a look."

Hal walked over to Ed and when he looked down in his to grab some items.  Ed casually pulled out his knife and cut Hal's throat.  Hal grasped at the air, trying to save himself from his death, but he had no chance.  He fell forward and died as he tried breathing through his torn throat.  Ed then took some trash bags from the dumpster, wrapped Hal's body in them, and placed his body inside.  He did manage to get $100 for taking him out and bought some food on the way home before going to sleep.

Name: Edward Deallus
Nickname: Ed
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Money: 150 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 Cargo Pants (Urban Camo)
1 Long-Sleeved T-shirt (Black)
1 pair of tennis shoes (Black)
1 pair of shades (Black)
1 baseball cap (random team)
Kills: 3 cheap assassinations
Lodgings: Cheap motel


22:15:11 Aug 21st 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: A text!? We don't have cell phones yet! We're freakin' poor...we use the old fashioned way, dead drops.]]


22:57:55 Aug 21st 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC We don't need cars until we get into medium assassinations, so don't worry...]]

Jack sits in an old crackhouse, his three victims dead around him.
"Jack! Good to meet you, I'm you!" says a voice.
Jack turns to see himself, but yet, not himself. The man he sees is a darker, colder looking version of himself.
"I am Septim," says the man.
"But...I am Septim..." says Jack.
"No, you're Jack, I am Septim," says Septim.
"How?" asks Jack.
"I am everything you should be, I am cold, ruthless, and cunning, you are nervous, depressed, and soft," says Septim, "You are pathetic, I am not."
"What the hell is going on?" asks Jack.

***

The alarm clock begins buzzing and Jack turns it off.
Weird dream...
He then brushes his teeth and goes to the bathroom. And as he picks up his pocket knife he begins to feel light-headed. His legs feel weak and he falls upon his bed.

***

Jack gets up, looking around he finds that he is in his motel room. A plastic container sits upon his table and thirty-seven dollars sits on top of it. He walks over and looks to see that the plastic container has a small twenty dollar cell phone next to it. The container itself houses a salad and two apples.
"W-what the hell is this?" he asks himself.
"I did our job, and got something that should help us, along with the food," says a voice from the bathroom.
Jack runs into the bathroom to see Septim in the mirror.
"I also organized it so that our contact will send text messages rather than leaving dead drops...more efficient. Don't worry, the job was done, and it was done well," says Septim.
"I'm imagining things!" yelled Jack.
"No you're not, when you blacked out, I took over. Now why don't you go eat, I'm starving," says Septim.
Jack blinks and Septim is replaced with Jack's own reflection. Jack takes Septim's advice, as he is hungry, and eats the food. He then plugs in his cell phone and goes to bed.

[[OOC:
Name: Jack Harris
Nickname: Septim
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Money: 243 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (white)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (gray)
Items:
Cheap cell phone
Kills: 
4 cheap assassination
Lodgings: Cheap motel]]


23:00:26 Aug 21st 08 - Mr. Killer:

*Killer stood in the shadows. His target was some lowly drug dealer, who probably annoyed some other drug dealer. This part of the city was full of them. He slipped from the shadows, the attention of the drug dealer diverted by the dog, and clamps his hand around his mouth, placing the cold steel of his pocket knife against the man's neck. "Utter one syllable and you'll be as dead as a dodo, understood," Killer warned, releasing his hand momentarily, no-one was around. "Duh... What's a onciple?" Killer knew that even a low-time drug dealer wouldn't be quite so uneducated as this. Killer brought his hand onto the back on his head, knocking the man unconscious. He slipped away into the darkness, the dog following behind, making an awful racket.
         Killer came to the building he had tailed the man from. He slipped inside the unlocked door, leaving the dog outside, howling. He heard movements from upstairs, so hid behind a wall away from view from the stairs. A figure stamped down the staircase in an irritated fashion. "If I get hold of that blasted dog it'll regret the time it crawled from its *beep* of a mother," a voice yelled. Killer steps from the shadows, bringing the knife to the figure's throat in one quick, sweeping motion. The figure was soon on the floor lifeless, evidence of his occupation knocked from his pockets. Killer ran off into the night, dog close behind. He was payed the agreed amount of ninety dollars for the kill, and a free meal, though greasy and unhealthy, and unfortunately had to buy his dog some food as well. Along the way he came across a shop with swords in it, and he went in and bought a Katana.*

Name: Unknown
Nickname: Killer
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 135 lbs.
Money: 10 dollars

Weapons:
 Pocket knife
 Katana
 Dog(?)

Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (black)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (black)

Kills:
 2 cheap assassinations

Lodgings: Cheap motel


23:04:05 Aug 21st 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: You can have the dog, but first, how did you get it? Was it a stray? If so it's free. :-). And dog food costs about fifteen dollars for a week.]]


23:32:06 Aug 21st 08 - Mr. Killer:

[Fifteen dollars a week? Cool, pretty cheap... *Buys dog food and eats it*]

*Killer recalls the day on which he got the dog. It was a misty sort of day, with a drizzle of rain here and there. It was before he lost his job, and was reduced to beating up people for money, and then to killing them. He tripped over the dog, and went face down into a pile of its unluckily(at least, in his view) placed unneeded waste(to get rid of toxins and such sort). He wiped his hand across his face and saw the dog. It had no collar, and looked scruffy and unowned. He picked the dog up and carried it home, its yelping ignored. Killer poured himself a bath in his house(he had a house in those days) and hurled himself in, having tied the dog up securely. When finished, he threw the dog in after him, and saw a nasty cut along its leg. He drew a thorn from the cut(not the cause of it, he was sure), and bandaged it up. The dog, grateful for the care, follows him everywhere now.*

(Sorry, would do a longer story, but it's too late.)


23:39:38 Aug 21st 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: It's fifteen dollars in real life for a pretty big bag of dry dog food that can last a week for one dog. That's why it's that price. :-) ]]


00:12:08 Aug 22nd 08 - Sir Charley Statler:

Prince Waldorfius Septim III

Report


8/21/2008 5:15:11 PM
[[OOC: A text!? We don't have cell phones yet! We're freakin' poor...we use the old fashioned way, dead drops.]]
[[I am freakin poor in RL and yes even I can affort it -_-]]


00:37:36 Aug 22nd 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: I know, but you need to pay twenty bucks to get one...you don't have one yet!]]


01:22:03 Aug 22nd 08 - Sir Charley Statler:

[[I will deduct it the next time I post...lets say...I "borrowed" one from a dead guy and it suddenly dies☺]]


01:59:21 Aug 22nd 08 - Mr. Arvious VI:

Davis was watching the news, which was reporting the people Davis had killed missing.  He was glad he had hid the bodies or burnt them.  Davis had gotten no job yet that day, and had a nice, relaxing day.  Until 4:17.

"Heh, Richard, you know there are more people like me out there," Davis said.

"Yeah,"  Richard said, "Well, in other cities.  No one else as good here."

"Haha, I could name twelve people here that do a better job as me."

"I don't believe any of them burnt the evidence.  Anyway, I got a short job.  One of my men just got ripepd off."

"Another addict?" Davis asked.

"Yeah, but he's easy to notice.  Just head on down to the Burven neighborhood.  He's house is covered in trash and warnings from the city for not taking care of his house.  And I got a question.  You keeping my phone in good condition?  I spent 300 dollars when I bought that three years ago."

"I put it on the charger, I hadle it carefully, and I'll cal you back when I'm done."

Davis put the phone on the table, got his shades, grabbed a couple of bus tokens, and headed down to Burven.

***

"Man, Richard wasn't kidding.  Look at this place."

The lawn was covered in soda cans, scraps of paper, warning notes, loose bits of metal, and what look to be the remains of a paper bag.  Davis, watched his step as he went up to the door, rang the doorbell, and saw a clumsy looking man open the door.

"Whadda want, boy?  Can't you see I'm busy?"  he yelled.

Davis walked in, shut the door, and pulled his knife from his pocket.

"You won't be busy for long."

Davis stabbed it into the man's chest, and the man dropped onto the ground. Dead.

"Can't these people learn that drugs are bad for you?"

Davis pulled the body outside, into a run-down courtyard.  He grabbed one of the matchs on the man, and starts a flame.

"These people make starting a fire so much more easier," Davis said as he threw the flame onto the corpse.  He grabbed his knife, wiped the doorknob he touched, and walked out, heading back to the bus stop.

***

"Man, I'm starting to run out of compliments here.  Here's your cash,  I gotta get back to my crib," Richard said, amazed at how well Davis was doing in his first three kills.

"Thanks.  Aight, I gotta get to the mall, buy me some new shoes.  Maybe a shirt too."

"Heh, though so.  Those sweatpants and shirt are getting pretty old.  Cya, kid."

Richard walked out of the cafe, and Davis grabbed his coffee, threw away his salad plate and apple cores, and headed out the cafe, towards the nearby mall.

Name: Davis Belms
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 169 pounds
Money:
137 Dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 T-Shirt (white)
1 pair of jeans (black)
1 black belt
1 pair of tennis shoes (white)
Kills: 
3 Cheap Assassinations
Lodgings: Cheap Motel ($20/day)

[[Go long posts!!!]]


02:05:12 Aug 22nd 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: If that three hundred dollar cell phone doesn't die soon, I'm gonna have you mugged. Just buy your own, twenty bucks for a cheapie. And nice post! :-) ]]


02:58:31 Aug 22nd 08 - Mr. Arvious VI:

Davis was sitting in the corner of his room, drinking the left over coffee, when he got a text message.  Davis was extremely jittery and accidently dropped the phone in the coffee.

"Damn, now I owe Richard a phone."

[[There, happy?]]


03:03:07 Aug 22nd 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: Yep, :-) ]]


03:18:27 Aug 22nd 08 - Lord Nephilim The Redeemer:

O_o im keeping my phone


03:26:33 Aug 22nd 08 - Mr. Arvious VI:

Davis watches the news about an assassin getting mugged in another state.

"Pfft, a real assassin doesn't get mugged."

[[Hey, if I can't keep mine, you can't either. :-)]]


04:07:48 Aug 22nd 08 - Prince Waldorfius Septim III:

[[OOC: I can see that now...

"In today's news, an assassin was mugged today. We know it's an assassin that got mugged and not a normal person, but the law doesn't. Nobody has attempted to arrest him after this discovery for unknown reasons. In other news..."]]


04:09:15 Aug 22nd 08 - Mr. Arvious VI:

[[ :-) ]]


06:43:58 Aug 22nd 08 - Lord Nephilim The Redeemer:

O_o its my phone i got it for Christmas From my mum
XD


06:54:41 Aug 22nd 08 - Mr. Onex:

 It was raining, he didn't like rain, he couldn't hear, couldn't smell, couldn't see as well, but it seemed to spook other people when you crept up on them in a storm, and he sure as hell didn't have time to waste waiting for a nice clear night.

   From beneath a doorway he watched an alley that led to one of the notorious gang hide-outs in the area. In the alley were two guards, currently one of them was puffing away on a cigarette, the other jabbing his arms, talking, and laughing, obviously re-enacting some fight. He continued watching and waiting, someone eventually would be left alone.

    He could probably kill them both, but not before one of them made enough noise to draw out one of the gangs own assasins, and several more *beep*s with guns, so he waited. The quieter one had put out his cigarette and was leaning against the wall, saying something to the other while drawing out another. As he bent over his lighter to sheild it from the heavy drops of rain the door swung open a little, and he could faintly hear someone yell from inside, the man threw his cigarrette on the ground quickly coming inside to obey whoever had called on him. This was his chance

   Walking slowly to the alley he calmed his breathing, feeling the smooth edge of the blade concealed in his palm, made slippery by a trickle of water that had made it's way down his arm and over the knife. Before he ever got to the alley, the other guy saw him, the yellow light that hing over the door poured out several feet beyond the alley, making him easily visible despite the rain. The guard straightened up and tensed his jaw, assuming the typical macho pose, arms crossed, chin slightly raised, "Maaan, you must be lost white boy." he didn't go for his gun, or anything for that matter, a good sign. He probably wasn't sure whether Smith even knew where he was. "Hi!" said Smith, "You know where Charlie's pub is?" the man relaxed just a bit, now taking on a mocking expression, "Man you are lost, now get the hell up out of h-" as the man lifted his left arm to point out of the alley, Smith moved in, swinging his knife at the unprotected ribs, he felt the skin resist for a breif moment before the knife punctured and sunk all the way in, it was all in slow motion for Smith, and he soaked in every detail. The man's white shirt, blossoming in a crimson liquid as he withdrew the knife, the man's smirk dropping, the laughter still hanging dully in his glazed over eyes as the brain tried to deal with the sudden pain it was suffering. Plunging his knife in again, this time lower, the mans jaw dropped, and his face showed the calm acceptance that can only be brought by an inevitable death, the man's brain tried to react, though he had no realization of it, his arm moved down slowly, trying to go for his gun, he fumbled with it and managed to get a grip before Smith grabbed his arm and severed the tendons used to control it, the gun clattered to the ground, slinging the mans arm over his shoulder he bent over and picked up the gun, as he checked to see if it was loaded, he noticed one of the internal springs had been bent, "Sh*t" he muttered as he through the gun back behind him into some boxes, leave that for the gang to find, one good thing about gangs is that they never helped police, doubtless that gun would never be seen again.

    Picking up the quickly dying bodyguard he walked carefully out of the alleyway in a grotesque mockery of how a man might carry his new wife. He looked down at the man as he rounded the corner, thirty seconds left, tops, it always interested him to watch the face in the last moments of life, it wasas though you could see a little light go off, the last thing the soul did before leaving. After he was satisfied the man was dead he carried him with much difficulty to a consrtuction site down the street where he had put his bike.

   They were renovating a building that had been empty for some time, mainly because part of it had fallen in, and it had become a hotspot for criminal activity, the renovations were part of the cities, "Helping Hands" program or some crap like that. The local kids had wasted no time cutting an opening in the temporary fence that had been put up, so they could sneak in and play on the equipment. Stepping in he struggled even more with on the uneven, muddy ground, setting down his weight on the ground he looked around for some rope, he was dissapointed there, but he did find a small pile of tie downs, which were probably more useful, hooking a plain one and one that had a ratchet for tightening down loads beyond human strength together. He threw one end over a sturdy metal beam in one of the sections that was being added to the building, the storm was picking up now, raining quite heavily, he just hoped it was still raining when they found the body, it would add a that extra touch to the picture he had in mind. Going back over to his victim he sat on his chest staring at him, "I wonder how much D wanted you cut up..." when the body didn't answer he continued, "well better safe than sorry." Taking out his knife he cut and peeled the skin back from the face. For the rest of the body he created a patern of evenly space cuts, the last thing he did was to make a very deep cut under the sternum. Walking back to the tie downs he anchored one to another beam at the base of the building, making sure that the one with the ratchet was hanging down freely, he loosened it up down to shoulder level, then he went back for the body, carrying it over he pushed the hooked end of the tie down under the sternum, then began ratcheting the man up slowly, until he was a good foot and a half above the ground, the man's face occasionaly lit up by the lightning, and the body turned back and forth slowly because of the wind. He looked at the sight, whatever they paid him, it wasn't enough. On his way back to the motel he stopped at an all-night burger place and got a burger and salad. Not only did they give him a drive through order on a bike, but they didn't even look twice at the stains on his shirt, this place was really going downhill.

[[OOC:

Name: Zach Pearson

Nickname: Smith

Height: 6' 1/2"

Weight: 195 lbs

Money: 179

Weapon: pocket knife

Clothing:

1 black sweatpants

1 white T-shirt

1 cheap pair of sneakers (gray)

Kills:

1 cheap assasinations

Lodgings: cheap motel]]


06:58:07 Aug 22nd 08 - Mr. Onex:

[[If I keep this up I'm just gonna write a book :D.]]


22:10:31 Aug 22nd 08 - Mr. Killer:

*Killer looked at his next target, pointed out to him by the payer. He wondered why he couldn't do it himself, the guy was making such an easy target. Killer tied his dog up, and then strolled over to the target. "Hello, fine weather isn't it?" The man turned his head, Killer cringed at his cold stare. "What the hell do you want?" he shouted, pulling a pocket knife from his pocket. "Uh... nothing," Killer replied, warily stepping backwards, showing his katana. He pulled the blade from its sheath and charged at the man, three quick swipes to the body, and one last one to separate the head from it. Killer casually ambled back to the client, taking the proffered money in an easy-going manner. "Good day," he said, untying the dog and walking it back to the motel.*

Name: Unknown
Nickname: Killer
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 135 lbs.
Money: 90 dollars

Weapons:
 Pocket knife
 Katana
 Dog

Clothing:
1 sweat pants (black)
1 T-shirt (black)
1 pair of cheap sneakers (black)

Kills:
 3 cheap assassinations

Lodgings: Cheap motel


01:25:38 Aug 23rd 08 - Sir Charley Statler:

[[Sorry, but I have mandatory things to do this weekend durin freshmen orientation so I will be makin this short and simple until at least monday...I am NOT leaving as Septim keeps stating everywhere]]

Ed went and bought himself a new cell phone.  With it, he recieved his next target via a text.  His target's name was Chad, a very small time drug dealer who ripped off a friend of Ed's client.  Ed simply walked up behind Chad, grabbed him around his neck, dragged him into a side alley, and broke his neck.  He then put him into a trash bag and threw him into a pile of trash, $100 richer. 

Name: Edward Deallus
Nickname: Ed
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 175 lbs.
Money: 150 dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 Cargo Pants (Urban Camo)
1 Long-Sleeved T-shirt (Black)
1 pair of tennis shoes (Black)
1 pair of shades (Black)
1 baseball cap (random team)
Kills: 3 cheap assassinations
Lodgings: Cheap motel


01:54:43 Aug 23rd 08 - Mr. Arvious VI:

Davis was watching the news, seeing how a huge cold front is coming through.  It hadn't rained yet, but it was dangerously windy.  The trees looked like they were bending when first looked at.  The long, gray clouds above gave the city a dark look.  That and the mist.

"I still can't believe you dropped my phone into coffee!"

"You're the one who sent the text," Davis answered.

"Yeah, well, that was an old phone anyway.  Couldn't send anymore pictures.  Anyway, you'd better get this job done before the rain starts.  There's a guy who hangs around the river.  Turns out he was a friends of the dealer you took out a couple days ago.  He real mad, and I'm worried he's gonna be more than a dealer, know what I mean?"

"Yeah;  You kill his associate, he gets angry and calls his associates about what happened.  Suddenly, there's a whole big group of people that want you dead.  Hey, he doesn't know that I did the job, right?"

"I don't know, rumor of you has already spread through some run-down part of town.  Anyway, the man has a long black beard, and hangs around the bridge.  I think it'll be hard not to get seen."

"Yeah, well, that's why you hired me," Davis said with a smile.

***

"Yo, boy, I got a couple pounds of stuff you might be interested in."

"Well, I wonder who's the dealer here," Davis muttered, as he walked up to the man.

"Ah, you're interested, eh?" the man asked.

"Yeah, there any private spots around here, I don't want to be seen buying."

"Yeah," the man said.  "Follow me."

Davis follows the man for a while until the coem into a small alleyway closeby.  The man looks around for other people, and then they both walk in.

"I know who you are," the man said.

"Really?  I don't believe I was of any imp-"

"Shut up, you're dead meat.  You see this bag right here?  There's a Glock in here, with a bullet with your name on it."

The man reached into the bag, when Davis grabbed the knife out of his pocket and cut the man's hand.  The man threw hsi hand out, in pain, as Davis catched the revolver, and shoots the man several times in the head.  Davis grabs the body, pulls the man under a closeby dumpster, and runs.

***

"Here, this bag ought to make up for the phone."

Davis hands the bag over to Richard.  Richard takes the bag, looks inside, and quickly stuffs it away in his jacket.

"How'd you get one of these?  I thought they didn't sell these here," Richard asked.

"The dealer knew, and know I bet there's a whole group of dealers that know who I am now," Davis said with a grim face.

"Wait, the dealer had this?  Oh man, listen, take this cash and go.  Stay low for a while, I'll call you later."

"No phone."

"Then buy one.  I'll call you later."

Richard walked away, and Davis is left there, the remains of his steak and chicken in a container, wonder how many days he would be hunting the dealers...

Name: Davis Belms
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 169 pounds
Money:
107 Dollars
Weapons: Pocket knife
Clothing:
1 T-Shirt (white)
1 pair of jeans (black)
1 black belt
1 pair of tennis shoes (white)
Items:
3 bus tokens
Decent Phone
Kills: 
4 Cheap Assassinations
Lodgings: Cheap Motel ($20/day)


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