Welcome to Bad Company (IC/open)

[TriStates]

*snip*

Giving a quick glance at the German man, Jason's attention was mostly focused on the bottle of alcohol that was being waved about. Shouldering his M16 Grenadier, Jason's mind came back to the words offered by the man in front of him.

Vodka he said did he... he thought, reaching and grabbing the offered bottle saying,"Hey, let me get a stiff of that man."

Placing his cigarette from his lips to his left hand, he pulled the cork out of the dusty glass bottle with his teeth, using his right hand to take a rather large swig, he brought the bottle down from his lips, eyes closing behind his aviator shades and lips puckering in apperciation as the grain alcohol ran its course down his throat.

"Woo!," shouted Jason, corking the bottle and reading the label "Thats prime!"

Focusing his attention to the little man, though everyone seemed little to Jason, he clapped the guy heavily on the back in thanks. Nodding to the lady the German had indicated earlier, he tipped his baseball cap, "This one admires your temperance ma'am. Allows us drinkers to have our good fill," he added with a grin.

Returning his attention to his thrists savior, he said,

"Much apperciate it Mr. Kraut! The chopper ride was a bit dusty, and I did get a might peckish on the way over. Anyhow, many thanks for the welcome drink! Names Jason, though friends call me Wild Bill!" Placing the vodka in one of the pockets in his ALICE pack, and the cigarette back on his lips, he proceeded to take the initative, and grasped the Germans hand, pumping it enthusiasticly. "And what do you go by partner?"

[Romic]

Fredrick winced at the pat. 'Jesus this man is one tough man' he thought. "Most call me Jerry. I go by Mighty Mouse most of the time." The large man grabbed his hand and started shaking it. As he got about through the third shake Fredrick used he strength to bring it to a stand still. "The Vodka is Stolichnaya Gold Vodka. Found it in a liquor cabinet a few towns back. I separated it from one 750ml bottle to three 250ml bottles, one of which you have. All the alcohol is also good as emergency Molotovs. I Keep a hold of smokes and drink for trade if I ever really need something. Otherwise I share amongst everyone that drinks and smokes, I however don't."

Fredrick looked at the three people in front of him respectively then noticed the lone wolf in the back. "Come forward man, introduce yourself."

Fredrick thought to himself, 'This could be the team I need to pull off the looting and get us the supplies we need.'

[Zataristan]

Simon stood still just behind the window inside the room where the Estonian,the German,and the American is.He saw the American,approached him.The only thing he hates about Americans is that they call Football,soccer,which pisses him off as he is a football fan back home at Manchester.He greets the American Hello Fam,nice M-16 you got there,my name's Simon from the 38th Infantry Regiment,served in Helmand and proud. he said as he tries to shake the American's hand.Then he saw Frederick,the obvious German.Simon,38th Infantry Regiment. he told Frederick,while of course still facing the unknown American.

[Republic of the Roman Nations]

Sherlock excused himself and slowly eased himself away from the conversation, threaded a suppressor over the barrel of his Scar H and began to sight in his Trijicon saw day optic on a poster about a block away from their current position. He braced and fired three rounds, missing the Russian war propaganda poster mans head. "Shots high and to the left..." He thought, then he adjusted the sight. Three more dull thuds, and three hits, this time only a little bit high, and partly to the right. He readjusted, using the propaganda poster mans eyes as targets. He fired one shot at both, the hits weren't perfect, far from it; close enough though. He then proceeded to sight in the red dot on top of the main optic. Using a chimney as a target. He looked back at the conversation still going on, then shrugged. He would let the other do what they wanted, if they needed him they knew were to look. He finished zeroing the red dot and went back to his room to play that wonderful violin.
"So far this team looks to be going well, stable too." He thought.
Then he began to doze off one eye half open, 1911 still within arms length ready to heed the call of action. He still listened to the conversation in the other room, wondering how all this was going to play out.

[TriStates]

*snip*

*snip*

*snip*

Releasing his grip on the German's hand, "Mighty mouse huh? Kinda a mouthful, but I can roll with it. Maybe I'll just call ya M&M huh?," said Jason with a grin,"Just don't start rapping for me."

Turning to the voice of a newcommer, another Britian by the sound of him, Jason returned the greeting with a booming voice, repeating the enthusiastic handsake gesture he did with the German, saying,"Hey there Mister Limey! Corporal Bragg, previously of the 1st Army Division, now in cahoots with you Bad Company fellers. I'm not much for formalities, so if its all the same to you, just call me Wild Bill" Accepting the comment on his M16 Grenadier graciously, Jason nodded his head in thanks, "Always good to have a fellow soldier apperciate my maxim of superior fire power! The piece your packing ain't too shabby itself man." he returned with a nod towards the British soldiers weapon.

Eager to scout out what seemed to be Bad Companys new digs, Jason excused himself from his compatriots, ceasing the up-and-down handshake he'd been doing to the British soldiers right hand. Making his way from the crowd of soldiers, he ran across a soldier trying to catch some shut eye in a small hall adjoining the apartments room. What really caught his eye though, was the dusty violin the soldier had obviously looted from the apartment complex.

Squating down beside the still dozing soldier, he removed his aviator shades to get a better look at the mans face in the slightly dark hallway. He then proceeded to tap the man on his shoulder, saying as he did so,"Mind if take a closer look at that violin there? Its been a while since I've heard one play." Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he tapped a bit to get rid of the excess ashes, before returning it to his lips, waiting for the sleepy man to answer.

[Republic of the Roman Nations]

Waking with somewhat of a start, he complied with the mans request and handed the piece to him; as he handed it to him he noticed that the other were STILL going over their plan. "With all this planning, this had better turn out well." He thought to himself. He then proceeded to chit chat with the newcomer, he discuses how he thought this little adventure would turn out. He also managed to covey that he himself was born in America, but his parents accent had just stuck with him; he had never bothered to try and get rid of it because for some reason American girls, at lest around his town, loved British accents.

[Mnar Secundus]

Charles and Aleksandra walked up to what seemed to be some kind of general meet & greet. Neither one of them was particularly prone to socialization, but knowing one's comrades was supposedly critical to survival on the battlefield, so ... "Hello there," hailed Charles in English. "I'm Charles N'Vane, formerly demolition expert and saboteur in the NATO, and this is Aleksandra Artemyev, formerly a paratrooper in the Russian forces." He took in more details about the assembly: they had a map and it looked like they were planning something. In the background, he heard some music for a short time - Violin, of all things?, then one of the men went up to the musician to talk. A pity.
"Are you guys planning a sortie?", Charles asked, Aleksandra standing silent by his side. "I need some chemicals for my explosives. If there is a store nearby, we'd be happy to assist such an endeavor. Aleksandra is very useful, and I will be once I get the aforementioned chemicals."
The young woman was slightly irritated by Charles's bartering of her skills, but she hid it. For the time being, the Frenchman was the person she trusted the most here, so the two of them had every advantage in appearing solidary to each other.

[Romic]

Fredrick's smile was gone he looked down on the map "Aside from the vehicle out there what else do we have that can hold the lot of equipment?" Fredrick looked around the room at no one in particular.

"Once we have that figured out we can move people where we need them. As for equipment and food what do we absolutely have to have? I want to get nesecities before luxeries."

Fredrick was a tad worried even with all the people they have now something could go wrong, and that he wasn't too fond of thinking.

[TriStates]

*snip*

"Oh I know the feeling man," replied Jason. "Why, I once had to spend a night in jail, on account of my Southern drawl." continued Jason, in a mock serious experssion, regaling the man in one of his many outlandish tales.

"Yes sir! It was the summer of '92 when I found out that in New York City, the woman have a fascination with this here draaawl of mine and they just wouldn't take no for an answer. So's here I am, walkin the street, minding my own business, with this gaggle of Yankee-women, following not two steps behind me."

Shurgging his shoulders, Jason went on,"Well, this police officer was walking his usual beat around town, when he saw this crowd of women following me. Next thing I know, I'm being pushed into the backseat of his squad car, being charged with inciting a riot and violating the public peace, on account of all the rumbuncious women making such a racket as they followed me helter skelter!"

"Had to lock me up in the local jail for three days, placing two guards at the front door just to keep the women off me." he finished jokingly, with a grin.

Story finished, Jason put out his cigarette, and picked up the offered violin. Testing the strings, moving a peg or two, he picked up the bow, and proceeded to play a song he had run across, a long, long time ago.

Gentle streams of notes passed from the bow, to the strings, and out from the violin. In a deep rumbling voice, Jason started singing gentley, going with the tone of the music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=38RxiMsUl2M

"Farewell to the mountains whose mazes to me,

Were more beautiful far than Eden could be,

The home I redeemed from the savage and wild,

The home I have loved as a father his child,

The wife of my bosom, farewell to ye all,

In the land of the stranger I rise or I fall,"

Jason held the last note briefly after he stopped singing, ending in a melodious high note,

A true smile sneaked out on his face, spreading under the black hair of his mustache. Handing back, the violin with reverance, the large man clapped the soldier apperciativly on the shoulder, saying "You got yourself a winner there, take care of her."

Walking out of the dark hall way, he placed his mirrored aviators back on the bridge of his nose, he returned to the group that he was originaly with, examining the map that was placed on the table, saying "Whats the score guys?"

[Kuzbeckistan]

Geralt had woken up from his sleep, He had a pounding Headache and decided to go to where everybody was to grab a glass of water.

Kuba entered the room and the only thing on his mind was getting his head into place ignoring everyone at first. When he reached the Kitchen He had pulled out his canteen, he tries to open the tap but only a small droplet came out.

"Kurwa, the Ivans must've destroyed the water supply" thought Geralt to himself

Geralt made his way to the couch. He placed his hands over his head as his forehead kept pounding.
"Does anyone here have any water or Panadol to spare, I have a damn headache and it's only getting worse" Kuba asked in an annoyed tone.

[TriStates]

*snip*

Hearing the groan from what could only be a hangover, or just a damn bad day, he turned toward the sound. Looking at the soldier who stumbled to the sink, he heard him yell something about a drink.

Remembering the vodka he had in his ALICE pack, Jason thought

Oh hell...its for a good cause. 'sides, I'll find myself some more before long

Pulling the alcohol out of his pack, he hollered at the still stumbling soldier, " You partner, need a Doc Bragg Special. A cure-all for all occasions. It sure ain't water or asprin, but its a little of both. Here, have a swig, on me!" he said, tossing the bottle to the thirsty soldier.

[Kuzbeckistan]

*snip*

Kuba caught it with two hands and read the bottle.
"Dzięki kolego" (Thanks Mate) Kuba said.

He slowly opened the bottle, he wasn't sure of what was it going to give him. All he knew was that it's simply medicine. Geralt took a sip and placed the bottle beside him on a table, he had a feeling within him inside his chest and he clutched it.

Kuba coughed and before he knew it his vision was clear and his head wasn't pounding no longer.
He had felt his face and realised everything was normal again.

"Say, that was some good stuff Tovyarze!" Geralt complimented "What's it made of?"

[TriStates]

*snip*

Grinning at the soldier, Jason said,"That my friend, is gen-u-ine Stolichnaya Gold Vodka, bestowed upon yours truly by my Kraut friend over there," indicating the German man reclyning on the couch,"and now I am giving it to you. Think of it as a present from Bad Companys new guy."

Placing his headphones back onto his ears, Jason caught the first few lines of Country Boy Can Survive, as he leaned up against the wall, awaiting the groups decision to move out.

[Kuzbeckistan]

*Snip*

"Thanks Again."
Kuba reached into his bag for a pack of smokes and his Lighter. Taking one out he places it on his lip and lights it up, he blows the smoke out before offering one to the Stranger.
"Name's Geralt, Geralt Kuba. Guessing by your Accent you Amerykańska Yes?"

[TriStates]

*Snip*

"Thanks Again."
Kuba reached into his bag for a pack of smokes and his Lighter. Taking one out he places it on his lip and lights it up, he blows the smoke out before offering one to the Stranger.
"Name's Geralt, Geralt Kuba. Guessing by your Accent you Amerykańska Yes?"

Jason took the now burned out Malboro out of his mouth, blowing out the embers and placing the old cigarette butt in a plastic ziplock bag. He had made a habit of saving the butts from his time out in the field, where supplies soon became scarce and good tobacco even more so. Accepting the offered cigarette eagerly, he recovered his lighter from his right trouser pocket, sparking it a few times for good measure before lighting the new cigarette.

"Texan. Big difference.The names Jason William Bragg, friend. But thats a mouthful, so just call me Wild Bill. Everyone else does." he replied.

[Romic]

Fredrick took out a pencil from his pocket. "If we are going to do this we have to do this fast and cautious."

He started drawing points and lines throughout the map. He pointed at the highest indicated building on the map. "Our Sniper is going to have to be perched up on the top of this building as high as they can get. They will provide over watch and support picking off as many people that come our way if needed."

He then pointed to a small house near where the supermarket is supposed to be. "I need a Designated marksman there to do the same as the sniper."

He then pointed at the circle on the map. "This is where the truck is. From there we go up one block take a right, go down four blocks and take a left. So long as there is no crap blocking the way. That is the most direct route there. The driver will have to have fast reflexes and not flip the damn thing."

He did a rough sketch of the truck. "One person needs to be secured in the bed of the truck ready to fire when needed. The front wind shield will be gone, the passenger will use their weapon as a support weapon."

He looked at everyone one and spoke louder so everyone could hear him. "This mission is vital to our survival. Get the things we need first. If you find something you want make it fast and put it in your pack. If we are discovered jump in the truck(s) and be prepared to fight. If we are discovered do not come directly to HQ. we need to lose those SOBs."

He looked again. "Anyone know if we have one more vehicle we can send with the truck to at least double supplies?"

He then spoke loud again, "I need a head count of everyone willing to go. All wanting to go say "I" all who don't will stay here rig some traps and hold the fort. Say "Nay""

[Etzopia]

Dimitri was so badly wounded that he actually started shooting the building with a Makarov PM in a bid to get Bad Company's attention. Unfortunately he passed out from bleeding.

[Kuzbeckistan]

*Snip*

Kuba was smoking before he overheard the meeting, he had taken his sig out and blew the smoke before coming to the Mission Briefing.
It wasn't until something that the German said that caught Geralt's ears. "Marksman" and "Vehicles" were the words that made Kuba click. He rushed to the briefing and reported himself in
"First Lieutenant Geralt Kuba, there's a BMP-2 light tank in the Garage. I'm not sure if it can fit us all though"
Geralt took a while to study the map as he forgot for a while one reason why he stood up, it was until he had recognized something about a small house near the Supermarket.
"Oh and I'm willing to be the Marksman you need, I got a small buggy at the garage where the BMP-2 is parked. Just give me the order sir"
Geralt eagerly notified.