I'm Baaack~

Just tell me if I missed anything~

Name: Lenka

Age: 18

Gender: Male (Combi can believe whatever his drugged up mind wants. >.>)

Appearance: Stands 5' 1". He weighs 104.5 pounds, (Not counting anything being carried.)  He has a very thin and lanky appearance, blue eyes, with the right being bandaged over. and short platinum blond hair, though it may show up anywhere from pinkish to greenish depending on the light, a somewhat stubby nose, and is seriously pale (Would make paper envious, Just kidding, but you see my point.) due to the fact he runs around with an excessive amount of layers of clothing on.   He hasn't started growing a manly beard yet, or any facial hair for that matter. He wears a black version of the 1937 pattern British battledress (BD) uniform, the one with long sleeves, complete with Toe-Capped black Ammunition Boots, matching trousers, a Mk II British helmet with a black hessian (burlap) cover, black 1908 Pattern Webbing, a grey Haversack, and black finger-less gloves. He wears non-prescription glasses (Similar to those you would use at a shooting range, The squarish angular ones that go slightly around the edge of your eyes. His are tinted red.) The right lens is shattered through, with only small amounts of the top part remaining in a circular pattern.

Equipment: A modified Bren Gun, made to be semiautomatic, with a 3-12 Variable Zoom Optic. (It is mounted on the side, slightly above the iron-sights.) The weapon fires .303 British (7.7mm) ammunition, split between three magazines for twenty-eight round each, (They are 30-round magazines, but if loaded to capacity, will jam.) one is loaded in the gun, two more are carried readily available, each in an ammunition pouch on his chest for a total of 84 rounds. The weapon's effective range is 550 meters, with the maximum range being 1700 Meters. (It was in yards, and I converted it to meters, which came out as 1691 M. I rounded it up.)

Modified .455 Webley Break-Top revolver: The weapon has been modified with a lengthend cylinder, now accepting .410 shotgun shells or .45 Long Colt shells. He carries 12 rounds Long Colt, 12 rounds Buckshot, and 6 rounds of Silver-Tipped Long Colt overcharged ammunition.

For really close combat, he carries a Cold Steel Hand-And-A-Half Sword. The blade is 33.5", with the overall length being 42 5/8". Boys being boys, Lenka saw this at an auction, and considered the fact he only had six rounds from his revolver, after thinking about it, he immediately bought the sword, and a black leather scabbard that he attached to his belt on the left side of his body. (Swords are a must.)

For large groups of enemies, and for covering his escape, he carries ten No. 36M Mills Bomb hand grenades with Four or Seven-Second fuses (selectable via a switch). The throwing range of a No. 36 is 15-30 yards, with the thrower requiring immediate cover, as these are Defensive Grenades, and the danger range is 100 yards. Being Rifle grenades, they come with sticks that screw into the base, so they can be fired from his Bren, to a range of 300 yards with optimal arc.

Finally, for Humans, he carries four canisters of HCN. Hydrogen Cyanide, at 150 PSI. Each canister can create a 4000ppm cloud 15 meters across, that lasts for three posts before it dissipates to a non-lethal level.

Not to be used as a weapon, but rather to keep his other personalities under control, Lenka carries eight syringes of a pale blue liquid, medication designed to... yeah. He has to inject a syringe of it into his heart every three days, or he slips in and out of different personalities.

Race: Human

Abilities:

He can tap dance, and he's an expert shot with his rifle, also keeping thing well-maintained to avoid jamming and other problems. His medication prevents him from undergoing any mind-altering effects, due to keeping him in a completely 'Vanilla' state, taking a big syringe of heroin and shooting it up his arm would do absolutely nothing if he's on his meds. Those meds also make him immune to the cellular respiration halting effects of Hydrogen Cyanide. (If a scientific explanation is required... I'll do my best.)

Actual Stat Thingies:
Regeneration: Level 0
Durability: About as much as those "Durable" binders. (Level 0)
Physical Stats: Level... -0.5? Reasonably good for someone of his size, though he's not friggin' Mr. Macho with a 'stache and huge muscles.

Organization: Mercenary (None)

Personality:
Overall: Touching the area on the right side of his head, around the eye causes him extreme pain, and will most likely earn the offender a slap. That is, If Lenka doesn't just fall over in pain. Also, If you DARE touch his gun... He will sit down, gain puppy-dog eyes, cry, and beg you for it back... It's his one true love. Although, If he's creeped out or saddened by something that has happened, cats can cheer him up. Plus if he's given his gun back...That'd help. His other personalities would just grab their sword and dice you, most likely.

Being only Eighteen, he is too young to drink, smoke, or gamble. (Curse you and your regulations!) Of course, with his meds, He's practically immune to getting high in any sort of form, anyway.

Lenka: He's not the type to rush into a battle, but rather one to sit in the back, and take shots at an enemy from a concealed position.  Outside of battle, He's the one you would find in the far corner hiding from everyone, he's shy, and blushes easily in awkward situations. (The kid has no social interaction skills whatsoever.) As for dealing with kills, he tends to not be bothered with actually shooting a person, as the last thing he will see of an enemy (Unarmored human infantry, at that.) will most likely be a person getting knocked back by a round. Though he is visibly sickened when he has to actually advance through the corpses of those he's killed. Unless, he is highly annoyed, frustrated, or pissed off, he will find something to take his anger out on, put all his fear aside, and attempt the destruction of said item without any remorse. He's diagnosed with multiple personality disorder, and is currently on medication for it, though he's a forgetful person sometimes...

#2: This is Lenka's most frequently visited other personality. He used to run a Deli, using only the finest meat produced from the still-breathing but incapacitated bodies of his enemies. He enjoys a great game of soccer, with a ball produced by stretching the faces of others over an actual ball. (Actually makes the ball sound pretty cool when it's whizzing through their air, skin flapping and such.) The jist of this guy is that he loves to run around and bathe in the blood of the people you pay him to kill.


Rank: None.

Biography: Lenka was born in a small, unnamed village on the skirts of Eastern Germany. At the age of Eight, his Grandfather gave him a .22 variant of a Karabiner 98k, the rifle having a shortened barrel, modified stock, and a lighter trigger pull. The gun was obviously intended as a Youth training gun. For the next several years, he tried improving his accuracy with the rifle.

In April 2002, a few weeks before his 16th birthday, Lenka was at a small gun auction in Munich, where he met a (rather shady) salesman trying to sell a 1937-issue British Battledress uniform. The salesman was having a slight bother, as the uniform was black, therefore making true collectors turn him away due to "Modifying of a Collectible." Lenka, however, found the uniform to be perfect in every way, and immediately purchased it. It included Ammunition Boots, A MkII helmet covered with a black hessian (burlap) cover, a dark grey wool undershirt, a black version of the 1937 Battledress Trousers and Overcoat, a black variation of the 1908 Pattern Webbing, with ammo pouches and a haversack, and some black fingerless gloves. Then seeking a weapon to go along with said uniform, he happened upon a semiautomatic variant of a Bren Gun, Which was being sold with three 30-shell magazines. He quickly purchased the rifle, and was warned that if the magazines were filled with more than 28 shells, they would jam and not dispense the round into the chamber. Being overly happy and giddy with excitement as he was, he put the uniform and gun in the back of his pickup, and drove home. Upon arriving, he was in such a hurry he tripped and rammed the barrel of the gun partly through his eye, poking it out. His glasses prevented any serious damage (To his brain), but he still lost his eyesight.

At the age of 17, he entered the work of a Mercenary, seeking to impress his Father, a soldier in the German Military of old, also known as the Nazi Wehrmacht. Lenka, however, strongly disagreed with the ideals that his Father's organization represented, as he believed that people were all equal, as on the field of battle, it matters not if you are American, German, or Russian, you can all still kill each-other with the utmost efficiency. As such, he decided that he could prove to his father that he was far more capable than his old man. After presenting to his father his decision, he was astounded at the anger the soldier displayed. Not only had the man's son dishonored him by becoming a hired gun, he had taken to be so similar to the soldiers he had fought in wars some time ago! And of all the choices his son had to make, Lenka chose the British! In a fit of rage, Lenka was thrown from the house (Literally. Doesn't take much to throw the poor kid.) and was about to be told never to return, had the youth not picked himself up, and defiantly stated he would prove to his father that there is a "Higher Path" of honorable fighting, and a nobler cause than the one the deranged Nazi followed. With that, Lenka turned, walked back to his truck, and proceed to attempt to become not only a full-fledged Mercenary, but a better and more honorable sniper than his Father.

Later that week, he was trying to become a mercenary, but nobody had taken him seriously. Getting irritated with the whole situation, he reached his saving grace by spotting a message board outside a bar. There was a mission being offered, to bring the body of a Gang Leader to the club, and the completer of the task would receive five thousand dollars. Finding the mission good enough for a potential anger release, Lenka noted that the man listed for capture was acceptable "Dead or Alive." Convinced this is how his career would start, he drove to a small parking lot five miles from his destination, took his uniform, and weaponry, equipped them, and made his way to a small office building overlooking the Gang Leader's home. It was listed as a low-level mission, with little to no guards, especially as it was Happy Hour, with the guards away and the leader alone. Lenka had a two hour window. Surveying the area and finding it clear, as the mission said, he proceeded to advance to the door of the small one-story house, and drew his sidearm, loading six shots of buckshot ammunition. Lenka kicked in the door, and put his pistol up, aimed toward the figure on the couch in-front of him.

"Who the hell are y-" The man is cut off by the thunderous roar of the modified .455 Webley round going off inside a building. The words had fallen on deaf ears anyway, Lenka had been wearing ear plugs, for the same reason as one would wear them at a shooting range. The man's torso explodes into a shower of blood, broken bones, and pieces of internal organs. The man's still-beating heart rests on the floor, for the main part of the man's rib-cage has been replaced with empty space. Walking over, Lenka looks down at the man, smirking, and replies in a simple, curt manner.

"Just doing my job."

He then proceeds to pick the remains of the man's upper half, which consists of his shoulders, neck, head, heart, and small amounts of his right lung, and place them in a burlap bag, having rolled up his sleeves and taken off his gloves to avoid getting blood on himself. Hoisting up the back, Lenka returns to his truck, and travels back to the bar. He walks up, but is stopped by a bouncer.

"No kids in here, ma-"

"I do believe this will get me in." Lenka holds up the bloodied burlap bag, the bouncer looks at it, winces, and realizes what Lenka is implying, he opens the door and hurriedly lets him in. A few moments later, Lenka arrives at the bar counter, where a somewhat obese man with tan skin, and a thick black beard, is sitting surrounded by two other men. His back is turned, and he doesn't notice Lenka's approach.

"Delivery." He sets the bag down on the counter with a thud and a bit of a squish. Before he can be questioned, he opens the bag, revealing its contents.

And so begins his dedication to the life of a Mercenary.


RP sample:

Just another day at the Office.

Or in this case, The roof of an office.

Lenka let out a breath he had no idea was being held. Lying prone on the 46th floor of an abandoned office building, he watched over his assigned sector of the city. His only orders being to shoot anyone that was marked by the other mercenaries on the streets below.

"Look alive. There's a group of two hostiles, Thirteenth street, they're going to come across your front at 400 meters in approximately six seconds."

Adjusting his sights, he took aim at the predicted crossing point. two small figures emerged. One hugging a wall, the other a few steps to the side. The two would-be assassins had no idea just what was incoming. These men clearly had no experience. Depressing the trigger, a single 7.7mm round fires off, impacting the furthest man in the head at 2440 ft/s. The poor guy couldn't have known what happen as the contents of his head redecorated his ally, and the wall behind him.

"Headshot. Attacking Hostile, Sector A4."

Another small muzzle flash, Only problem, there was a small geyser of dust off of the wall behind the second man. About at the time a very irritated Lenka was about to take a third shot, the mercenaries downstairs opened up with machine guns, peppering the last man and replacing him with a large paste on the wall. The cleanup crew would have a wonderful time with this. Lenka would love to smile at the similarities to his Father's job, only his father fought people in AFV's, and not regular people, but he had just missed a shot. And now he was Highly irritated.

"I'm headed down to the third floor."

"We're in the clear for the moment. We'll keep you posted."

Several... very long... flights of stairs later... He arrived at the third floor, entering a large conference room. He was greeted with the sight of several mercenaries betting over who would get the most amount of kills on the mission. Lenka, However, knew that being assigned "Overwatch" Was equivalent to "I'm-Going-To-Steal-Every-Damn-One-Of-Your-Kills-If-I-Feel-Like-It." And thus he would win, though he was somewhat saddened by the fact he is to young to gamble, but he brushed it off and found a seat near the window, propping himself up with his pack so he could see through it. Tuning out the noise of the room, Lenka checked his supplies. Twenty-six shots in the current magazine, Fifty-Six rounds reserve ready ammunition. Totaling Eighty-Two shells. He wasted a shot. Dammit.

Yea. Just an average day at the Office.

Lenka wrote:Just tell me if I missed anything~

Oh, I will.

Buttmonkey wrote:Name: Lenka

Age: 18

Gender: Male (Combi can believe whatever his drugged up mind wants. >.>)

Age is concerning.

Child wrote:Appearance: Stands 5' 1". He weighs 104.5 pounds, (Not counting anything being carried.)  He has a very thin and lanky appearance, blue eyes, with the right being bandaged over. and short platinum blond hair, though it may show up anywhere from pinkish to greenish depending on the light, a somewhat stubby nose, and is seriously pale (Would make paper envious, Just kidding, but you see my point.) due to the fact he runs around with an excessive amount of layers of clothing on.   He hasn't started growing a manly beard yet, or any facial hair for that matter. He wears a black version of the 1937 pattern British battledress (BD) uniform, the one with long sleeves, complete with Toe-Capped black Ammunition Boots, matching trousers, a Mk II British helmet with a black hessian (burlap) cover, black 1908 Pattern Webbing, a grey Haversack, and black finger-less gloves. He wears non-prescription glasses (Similar to those you would use at a shooting range, The squarish angular ones that go slightly around the edge of your eyes. His are tinted red.) The right lens is shattered through, with only small amounts of the top part remaining in a circular pattern.

No wonder Combi thinks you're a girl. You're so underweight, that height and weight only makes sense for a woman.

I could buy really light blond hair showing up whitish or kind of silver in the right light (that's how I roll), but pink and green? What are you smoking? Oh, wait...

I'm going to assume this guy is a eunuch or something, since you seem to imply he hasn't gone through puberty at 18.

Varys wrote:Equipment: A modified Bren Gun, made to be semiautomatic, with a 3-12 Variable Zoom Optic. (It is mounted on the side, slightly above the iron-sights.) The weapon fires .303 British (7.7mm) ammunition, split between three magazines for twenty-eight round each, (They are 30-round magazines, but if loaded to capacity, will jam.) one is loaded in the gun, two more are carried readily available, each in an ammunition pouch on his chest for a total of 84 rounds. The weapon's effective range is 550 meters, with the maximum range being 1700 Meters. (It was in yards, and I converted it to meters, which came out as 1691 M. I rounded it up.)

Modified .455 Webley Break-Top revolver: The weapon has been modified with a lengthend cylinder, now accepting .410 shotgun shells or .45 Long Colt shells. He carries 12 rounds Long Colt, 12 rounds Buckshot, and 6 rounds of Silver-Tipped Long Colt overcharged ammunition.

For really close combat, he carries a Cold Steel Hand-And-A-Half Sword. The blade is 33.5", with the overall length being 42 5/8". Boys being boys, Lenka saw this at an auction, and considered the fact he only had six rounds from his revolver, after thinking about it, he immediately bought the sword, and a black leather scabbard that he attached to his belt on the left side of his body. (Swords are a must.)

For large groups of enemies, and for covering his escape, he carries ten No. 36M Mills Bomb hand grenades with Four or Seven-Second fuses (selectable via a switch). The throwing range of a No. 36 is 15-30 yards, with the thrower requiring immediate cover, as these are Defensive Grenades, and the danger range is 100 yards. Being Rifle grenades, they come with sticks that screw into the base, so they can be fired from his Bren, to a range of 300 yards with optimal arc.

Finally, for Humans, he carries four canisters of HCN. Hydrogen Cyanide, at 150 PSI. Each canister can create a 4000ppm cloud 15 meters across, that lasts for three posts before it dissipates to a non-lethal level.

Not to be used as a weapon, but rather to keep his other personalities under control, Lenka carries eight syringes of a pale blue liquid, medication designed to... yeah. He has to inject a syringe of it into his heart every three days, or he slips in and out of different personalities.

I don't know what guns are, but I'm already dubious about that revolver. I don't think that's possible.

I have no idea what this medicine is leading to, but I already don't like it.

UUUUUUUUUUUG wrote:Race: Human

Abilities:

He can tap dance, and he's an expert shot with his rifle, also keeping thing well-maintained to avoid jamming and other problems. His medication prevents him from undergoing any mind-altering effects, due to keeping him in a completely 'Vanilla' state, taking a big syringe of heroin and shooting it up his arm would do absolutely nothing if he's on his meds. Those meds also make him immune to the cellular respiration halting effects of Hydrogen Cyanide. (If a scientific explanation is required... I'll do my best.)

Actual Stat Thingies:
Regeneration: Level 0
Durability: About as much as those "Durable" binders. (Level 0)
Physical Stats: Level... -0.5? Reasonably good for someone of his size, though he's not friggin' Mr. Macho with a 'stache and huge muscles.

Too short, but what you have is unacceptable. Heroin isn't just a psychological effect. It has many physical reactions that go along with getting high. There's no reason why mood altering medication should make you immune to that gas.

No reason to add that table, either. You're a human.

Clipper wrote:Organization: Mercenary (None)

Personality:
Overall: Touching the area on the right side of his head, around the eye causes him extreme pain, and will most likely earn the offender a slap. That is, If Lenka doesn't just fall over in pain. Also, If you DARE touch his gun... He will sit down, gain puppy-dog eyes, cry, and beg you for it back... It's his one true love. Although, If he's creeped out or saddened by something that has happened, cats can cheer him up. Plus if he's given his gun back...That'd help. His other personalities would just grab their sword and dice you, most likely.

Being only Eighteen, he is too young to drink, smoke, or gamble. (Curse you and your regulations!) Of course, with his meds, He's practically immune to getting high in any sort of form, anyway.

Lenka: He's not the type to rush into a battle, but rather one to sit in the back, and take shots at an enemy from a concealed position.  Outside of battle, He's the one you would find in the far corner hiding from everyone, he's shy, and blushes easily in awkward situations. (The kid has no social interaction skills whatsoever.) As for dealing with kills, he tends to not be bothered with actually shooting a person, as the last thing he will see of an enemy (Unarmored human infantry, at that.) will most likely be a person getting knocked back by a round. Though he is visibly sickened when he has to actually advance through the corpses of those he's killed. Unless, he is highly annoyed, frustrated, or pissed off, he will find something to take his anger out on, put all his fear aside, and attempt the destruction of said item without any remorse. He's diagnosed with multiple personality disorder, and is currently on medication for it, though he's a forgetful person sometimes...

#2: This is Lenka's most frequently visited other personality. He used to run a Deli, using only the finest meat produced from the still-breathing but incapacitated bodies of his enemies. He enjoys a great game of soccer, with a ball produced by stretching the faces of others over an actual ball. (Actually makes the ball sound pretty cool when it's whizzing through their air, skin flapping and such.) The jist of this guy is that he loves to run around and bathe in the blood of the people you pay him to kill.


Rank: None.

This personality is so fucking conflicting. The first section is just meaningless fluff that make him seem totally out of place in a Hellsing forum, then we actually get to Lenka, who could actually work depending on how he turns out, then we get to that idiotic crap in the second part. If you actually want a character with DID for any reason other than to be "lolrandom", do some research on it. Casting him as a regular guy who turns into a psycho at a moment's notice is not only offensive, but done to death and lazy writing.

Train wreck ahoy wrote:Biography: Lenka was born in a small, unnamed village on the skirts of Eastern Germany. At the age of Eight, his Grandfather gave him a .22 variant of a Karabiner 98k, the rifle having a shortened barrel, modified stock, and a lighter trigger pull. The gun was obviously intended as a Youth training gun. For the next several years, he tried improving his accuracy with the rifle.

Guess nothing important happened in eight years. His life had no meaning until he got that gun, apparently. A gun that's tricked the fuck out for no apparent reason.

GRRRRR wrote:In April 2002, a few weeks before his 16th birthday, Lenka was at a small gun auction in Munich, where he met a (rather shady) salesman trying to sell a 1937-issue British Battledress uniform. The salesman was having a slight bother, as the uniform was black, therefore making true collectors turn him away due to "Modifying of a Collectible." Lenka, however, found the uniform to be perfect in every way, and immediately purchased it. It included Ammunition Boots, A MkII helmet covered with a black hessian (burlap) cover, a dark grey wool undershirt, a black version of the 1937 Battledress Trousers and Overcoat, a black variation of the 1908 Pattern Webbing, with ammo pouches and a haversack, and some black fingerless gloves. Then seeking a weapon to go along with said uniform, he happened upon a semiautomatic variant of a Bren Gun, Which was being sold with three 30-shell magazines. He quickly purchased the rifle, and was warned that if the magazines were filled with more than 28 shells, they would jam and not dispense the round into the chamber. Being overly happy and giddy with excitement as he was, he put the uniform and gun in the back of his pickup, and drove home. Upon arriving, he was in such a hurry he tripped and rammed the barrel of the gun partly through his eye, poking it out. His glasses prevented any serious damage (To his brain), but he still lost his eyesight.

I guess none of his life matters unless it's in multiples of 8. Where the fuck are this kid's parents?

You realize you can't just pick up guns like that in Germany, right? Kind of have a lot of shit you need to pass through before you can have one. Beyond that, he's not old enough to buy them.

Where did this guy get a British uniform, and why does it fit a 16 year old who's barely five feet tall? I don't think Lenka wants to wear that...

No research wrote:At the age of 17, he entered the work of a Mercenary, seeking to impress his Father, a soldier in the German Military of old, also known as the Nazi Wehrmacht. Lenka, however, strongly disagreed with the ideals that his Father's organization represented, as he believed that people were all equal, as on the field of battle, it matters not if you are American, German, or Russian, you can all still kill each-other with the utmost efficiency. As such, he decided that he could prove to his father that he was far more capable than his old man. After presenting to his father his decision, he was astounded at the anger the soldier displayed. Not only had the man's son dishonored him by becoming a hired gun, he had taken to be so similar to the soldiers he had fought in wars some time ago! And of all the choices his son had to make, Lenka chose the British! In a fit of rage, Lenka was thrown from the house (Literally. Doesn't take much to throw the poor kid.) and was about to be told never to return, had the youth not picked himself up, and defiantly stated he would prove to his father that there is a "Higher Path" of honorable fighting, and a nobler cause than the one the deranged Nazi followed. With that, Lenka turned, walked back to his truck, and proceed to attempt to become not only a full-fledged Mercenary, but a better and more honorable sniper than his Father.

Yeah, he just...becomes a mercenary. Because that happens.

Look, we finally get mention of some parents. And it turns out the're fucking Nazis. So his father had him when he was, what, 70?

Who is going to hire a guy with one eye as a mercenary? If he's like fucking Deathstroke, maybe, but he's just some kid.

How, exactly, did he "choose" the British? Does he only take contracts from people in England? I'd be pretty mad, too, if my son came up to me and said he was a hired killer.

The fuck just happened? wrote:Later that week, he was trying to become a mercenary, but nobody had taken him seriously.

Joke wrote:Getting irritated with the whole situation, he reached his saving grace by spotting a message board outside a bar. There was a mission being offered, to bring the body of a Gang Leader to the club, and the completer of the task would receive five thousand dollars. Finding the mission good enough for a potential anger release, Lenka noted that the man listed for capture was acceptable "Dead or Alive." Convinced this is how his career would start, he drove to a small parking lot five miles from his destination, took his uniform, and weaponry, equipped them, and made his way to a small office building overlooking the Gang Leader's home. It was listed as a low-level mission, with little to no guards, especially as it was Happy Hour, with the guards away and the leader alone. Lenka had a two hour window. Surveying the area and finding it clear, as the mission said, he proceeded to advance to the door of the small one-story house, and drew his sidearm, loading six shots of buckshot ammunition. Lenka kicked in the door, and put his pistol up, aimed toward the figure on the couch in-front of him.

Who the fuck is posting this outside a public bar? That's a great way to get the cops involved.

Really? This guy is so unprotected that it takes a single kid on his first ever kill to take him out? In that case, why doesn't flyer guy just do it himself? Beyond that, if he's so low level, why even bother killing him? What could flyer guy possibly gain from the death of someone like that?

k wrote:"Who the hell are y-" The man is cut off by the thunderous roar of the modified .455 Webley round going off inside a building. The words had fallen on deaf ears anyway, Lenka had been wearing ear plugs, for the same reason as one would wear them at a shooting range. The man's torso explodes into a shower of blood, broken bones, and pieces of internal organs. The man's still-beating heart rests on the floor, for the main part of the man's rib-cage has been replaced with empty space. Walking over, Lenka looks down at the man, smirking, and replies in a simple, curt manner.

"Just doing my job."

He then proceeds to pick the remains of the man's upper half, which consists of his shoulders, neck, head, heart, and small amounts of his right lung, and place them in a burlap bag, having rolled up his sleeves and taken off his gloves to avoid getting blood on himself. Hoisting up the back, Lenka returns to his truck, and travels back to the bar. He walks up, but is stopped by a bouncer.

Yeah, no emotional response to straight up murdering a guy in, like, the goriest fucking way possible. Just his very first kill and all. Of course he's a hardened criminal already.

Is this building totally empty? Firing a shot that actually makes someone explode is bound to alert at least fifteen people.

Blump wrote:"No kids in here, ma-"

"I do believe this will get me in." Lenka holds up the bloodied burlap bag, the bouncer looks at it, winces, and realizes what Lenka is implying, he opens the door and hurriedly lets him in.

He was implying he'd hit him with a gross bag? To be fair, I'd probably let him in, too. Also, why are all these Germans not speaking German?

k again wrote:A few moments later, Lenka arrives at the bar counter, where a somewhat obese man with tan skin, and a thick black beard, is sitting surrounded by two other men. His back is turned, and he doesn't notice Lenka's approach.

"Delivery." He sets the bag down on the counter with a thud and a bit of a squish. Before he can be questioned, he opens the bag, revealing its contents.

And so begins his dedication to the life of a Mercenary.

Because that's how mercenary work goes. Just bring a dead body into a public place and dump it on the floor. That upper body has to weigh, like, 100 lbs. How is he just casually carrying it all over?

Blurp wrote:RP sample:

Just another day at the Office.

Or in this case, The roof of an office.

Lenka let out a breath he had no idea was being held. Lying prone on the 46th floor of an abandoned office building, he watched over his assigned sector of the city. His only orders being to shoot anyone that was marked by the other mercenaries on the streets below.

"Look alive. There's a group of two hostiles, Thirteenth street, they're going to come across your front at 400 meters in approximately six seconds."

Adjusting his sights, he took aim at the predicted crossing point. two small figures emerged. One hugging a wall, the other a few steps to the side. The two would-be assassins had no idea just what was incoming. These men clearly had no experience. Depressing the trigger, a single 7.7mm round fires off, impacting the furthest man in the head at 2440 ft/s. The poor guy couldn't have known what happen as the contents of his head redecorated his ally, and the wall behind him.

"Headshot. Attacking Hostile, Sector A4."

Another small muzzle flash, Only problem, there was a small geyser of dust off of the wall behind the second man. About at the time a very irritated Lenka was about to take a third shot, the mercenaries downstairs opened up with machine guns, peppering the last man and replacing him with a large paste on the wall. The cleanup crew would have a wonderful time with this. Lenka would love to smile at the similarities to his Father's job, only his father fought people in AFV's, and not regular people, but he had just missed a shot. And now he was Highly irritated.

"I'm headed down to the third floor."

"We're in the clear for the moment. We'll keep you posted."

Several... very long... flights of stairs later... He arrived at the third floor, entering a large conference room. He was greeted with the sight of several mercenaries betting over who would get the most amount of kills on the mission. Lenka, However, knew that being assigned "Overwatch" Was equivalent to "I'm-Going-To-Steal-Every-Damn-One-Of-Your-Kills-If-I-Feel-Like-It." And thus he would win, though he was somewhat saddened by the fact he is to young to gamble, but he brushed it off and found a seat near the window, propping himself up with his pack so he could see through it. Tuning out the noise of the room, Lenka checked his supplies. Twenty-six shots in the current magazine, Fifty-Six rounds reserve ready ammunition. Totaling Eighty-Two shells. He wasted a shot. Dammit.

Yea. Just an average day at the Office.

I have no idea why he is there and why they treat straight up murder of people as a game.


This is not good. Parts of it show promise, but the majority of this feels like it belongs in some other universe. I have no idea what kind of hellish dimension that would be, but if you find it, I'm sure Lenka would be very happy there.

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Disapprovals: 1

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DISAPPROVALS: 02

I think Lenka Is salvageable and personally I like you. But I would have to agree with the disaprovls and all. I advise you to try again in another attempt and take what john said in to consideration, and so long as you smooth some edges and maybe make things more realistic I imagine he could work out fine.

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Disaprovals: 3