Post by Caliber on Sept 29, 2011 23:05:54 GMT -5
Cel stood with her hands on her hips, watching, as the two men peered into the Stryker. Cel kept her eye on their surroundings, watching the infected closely. She fixed her eyes on the first man as he stepped into the Stryker. She hadn't invited them to actually enter the vehicle, but she let it slide, as long as nobody tried anything. She cringed a bit as the man lifted her Luger off of the rack. After a few moments of inspecting it, he spoke up, asking Cel for a price. Cel let out a silent chuckle, and shook her head. The man must have taken the hint, as he immediately set the gun back down onto the rack, carefully.
Cel spoke up, clarifying. "Not for sale."
As the second man began inspecting her weaponry, Cel continued watching the surrounding infected, as they slowly began to gather. The second man seemed to notice too, and immediately spoke up to his companion. Shortly after, he then turned to Cel, asking her if she had anything suppressed for sale.
"Of course," she told him. "That pretty little Krink I was flashing around earlier is for sale. It's a traditional Russian AKS-74U, with an integrated suppressor and accessory rail system. I've installed a foregrip, PEQ laser box, and a tactical light. It doesn't come cheap, but it's one of the best," she said, as she retrieved it from the Stryker. She grasped it by the forearm, and admired it. She continued, "If you're looking for something with more of an AR-15 platform, I've got an M4 or two in there, which can be fitted with a suppressor. As for handguns, I've got a large number with factory threaded barrels-- but the suppressor will cost ya' extra. It all depends on what you're looking for, specifically," she told him. "You need it, I got it. Or, at least the next best thing," she laughed.
While the men were looking around, Quicksilver slipped Cel a note, and she quickly read it, then shoved it into her pocket. She flashed a nod toward him, then continued her business. She then fixed her gaze upon the surrounding infected again, which drew in closer and closer. Despite being about half a block away, it was still unsettling. Once again, she made eye contact with Quicksilver, and he took the hint. Darting off, he went to take care of a few of the infected.
The first man, who had been looking for another weapon, caught Cel's attention, then began speaking. He had found another rifle and pistol that he'd wanted-- both of which she was completely willing to sell, for the right price. Before she could begin discussing, the man abruptly ran off to help keep the infected at bay. Cel sighed, shrugging the Krinkov over her shoulder, then putting her hands on her hips again. The man took out a few infected, then returned to the Stryker to discuss payment.
Cel thought briefly, then spoke up.
"I'll trade that rifle of yours for the Benelli MR1 no problem. If you want the ammo, you can trade in your ammo for it. A bullet's a bullet, and bigger isn't always better. Forget the pistol, and you've got a deal," she told him. "Running a business here," she began again. She turned back toward the Stryker. "Gotta keep the ed--"
As she turned to face the Stryker, her words came to a halt, as a licker leapt to the roof of her vehicle, it's tongue slithering. Taking a step back, she raised the Krinkov, aimed, and squeezed down on the trigger. She fired a few rounds, and the licker shuffled over the edge of the Stryker. As it fell to the ground, Cel finished it off with several more shots to the torso. She groaned, knowing the non-supersonic ammo had been quite loud, despite the suppressor.
"That'll attract the wrong kind of company. We may have to finish this deal another time. Here's my radio frequency," she told the first man, shoving a slip of paper into his hand.
Cel whistled to Quicksilver, then twirled her finger in the air, implying they should regroup and move out. Just as she did so, a dozen or so zombies shuffled out of a nearby alleyway. Cel raised her Krinkov, and mowed them down, giving the men an easier time to get away after she was gone. She then looked around to see Quicksilver already making his way back toward the Stryker. Looking at the first man, Cel spoke.
"I trust you can handle yourselves," she said sternly, backstepping into the Stryker. Quicksilver followed closely behind.
Cel slapped a button on the interior wall of the Stryker, and within a few seconds, the Stryker had closed. She climbed into the driver's seat, and started the engine. The Stryker drove off, leaving a cloud of dust in its trail.
[Cel and Quicksilver have left Guns Galore]
Sorry for rushing things so much. I'd held up your RP for too long, and wanted to get us outta there so that you didn't have to wait on me. We'll have to continue this some other time, elsewhere.
Cel spoke up, clarifying. "Not for sale."
As the second man began inspecting her weaponry, Cel continued watching the surrounding infected, as they slowly began to gather. The second man seemed to notice too, and immediately spoke up to his companion. Shortly after, he then turned to Cel, asking her if she had anything suppressed for sale.
"Of course," she told him. "That pretty little Krink I was flashing around earlier is for sale. It's a traditional Russian AKS-74U, with an integrated suppressor and accessory rail system. I've installed a foregrip, PEQ laser box, and a tactical light. It doesn't come cheap, but it's one of the best," she said, as she retrieved it from the Stryker. She grasped it by the forearm, and admired it. She continued, "If you're looking for something with more of an AR-15 platform, I've got an M4 or two in there, which can be fitted with a suppressor. As for handguns, I've got a large number with factory threaded barrels-- but the suppressor will cost ya' extra. It all depends on what you're looking for, specifically," she told him. "You need it, I got it. Or, at least the next best thing," she laughed.
While the men were looking around, Quicksilver slipped Cel a note, and she quickly read it, then shoved it into her pocket. She flashed a nod toward him, then continued her business. She then fixed her gaze upon the surrounding infected again, which drew in closer and closer. Despite being about half a block away, it was still unsettling. Once again, she made eye contact with Quicksilver, and he took the hint. Darting off, he went to take care of a few of the infected.
The first man, who had been looking for another weapon, caught Cel's attention, then began speaking. He had found another rifle and pistol that he'd wanted-- both of which she was completely willing to sell, for the right price. Before she could begin discussing, the man abruptly ran off to help keep the infected at bay. Cel sighed, shrugging the Krinkov over her shoulder, then putting her hands on her hips again. The man took out a few infected, then returned to the Stryker to discuss payment.
Cel thought briefly, then spoke up.
"I'll trade that rifle of yours for the Benelli MR1 no problem. If you want the ammo, you can trade in your ammo for it. A bullet's a bullet, and bigger isn't always better. Forget the pistol, and you've got a deal," she told him. "Running a business here," she began again. She turned back toward the Stryker. "Gotta keep the ed--"
As she turned to face the Stryker, her words came to a halt, as a licker leapt to the roof of her vehicle, it's tongue slithering. Taking a step back, she raised the Krinkov, aimed, and squeezed down on the trigger. She fired a few rounds, and the licker shuffled over the edge of the Stryker. As it fell to the ground, Cel finished it off with several more shots to the torso. She groaned, knowing the non-supersonic ammo had been quite loud, despite the suppressor.
"That'll attract the wrong kind of company. We may have to finish this deal another time. Here's my radio frequency," she told the first man, shoving a slip of paper into his hand.
Cel whistled to Quicksilver, then twirled her finger in the air, implying they should regroup and move out. Just as she did so, a dozen or so zombies shuffled out of a nearby alleyway. Cel raised her Krinkov, and mowed them down, giving the men an easier time to get away after she was gone. She then looked around to see Quicksilver already making his way back toward the Stryker. Looking at the first man, Cel spoke.
"I trust you can handle yourselves," she said sternly, backstepping into the Stryker. Quicksilver followed closely behind.
Cel slapped a button on the interior wall of the Stryker, and within a few seconds, the Stryker had closed. She climbed into the driver's seat, and started the engine. The Stryker drove off, leaving a cloud of dust in its trail.
[Cel and Quicksilver have left Guns Galore]
Sorry for rushing things so much. I'd held up your RP for too long, and wanted to get us outta there so that you didn't have to wait on me. We'll have to continue this some other time, elsewhere.