BigPapaBelial

Vigil!

Short really bad horrible horribad post is short. Sorry didn't know what else I could work in.

Vigil!

Austin quietly tinkered away at the front desk of his small shop. He'd found an ancient watch in a shipment of parts he had gotten in. Not parts for the back business but parts for the front business and he thought it'd be nice to have an old style pocket watch. He had the front open, the inside clock face opened and the hands beside him on a safety rag, when his work cellphone rang.

A blink later he reached for the phone checking it. Seeing on of many numbers that often call this number. He let out a hrm softly. Waited for the second ring then picked up. "'Ello? Martin General Repai....oh." He listened for a short bit. "I'm here right now. Come around back when you get here." He got up, looking around the shop then walking over to the front door when he saw no one was inside. He turned the sign over to show he's away, then locked the door. He also closed the workshop doors. Once that was done he went out back, and into a small shed, a secondary workshop if you will, filled with parts and a small desk and chair that he could use to upgrade a gun, or refit an armored vest. He sat down at the desk, and began to tinker with a Kiparis auto-pistol quietly. To pass the time.

He looked up every now and then as time passed. When he looked up he saw a vehicle pull in. He waited until someone got out. And waited a little longer before opening the door to the shed and stepping out. He smiled, his big beard waggling as he did, "Hello there sir. Welcome to Martin Repair. What can I help you with?"

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Victor had a shotgun out, rattling rounds up at the soldiers who were coming to head him and his team of armored soldiers off. All the men with him had a kind of carapace combat armor on, designed to stop up a 7.62 round, plus a few more after that. They couldn't take rocket rounds like Victor could, but they could still take alot of punishment. Victor stood tall and like a beacon in the midst of them, drawing fire, and coordinating fire. He pointed to a section of the wall where someone was trying to set up a huge 12.7mm HMG. The men trying to arm is ducked trying to get out of the way of the fire swamping their position.

Victor reached up with his free hand, tugging the tube down into firing position. Everyone in the raid team here had been looking forward to seeing this. They had all seen Victor's normal kit. This rocket tube with the self loading feeder tube is something all new. They watched as he tugged the tube down into position. Then rocked back on his heel. The Rocket that thumped out of the tube sailed up, impacted the wall, then a moment later the rocket's fuse kicked off. The explosion blew a crater in the top of the wall, and sent a crack down the outside surface of it from the powerful concussion of the rocket. The munition designed not to so much explode as to cause damage through the power of the shockwave. Sticking into surfaces of targets and cracking them open. In this case, the HMG vanished into pieces, and the power of the blast made one hell of an impression on the wall.

As his men cheered at the new addition and got back to making their distaction Victor smiled then turned a little, his radio beeping, "You've reached Brute..." He heard Natalie's voice on the other end, He grinned broadly, "Alright. I'll be with you shortly then. Sorry about this. I know you probably wanted to have this one all to yourself." He motioned to a team of PMC soldiers. Then took the lead heading to a nearby gate. He motioned for someone to get a charge on the gate lock. Stepping back the charge is blown. And they soon find that their route if blocked by a massive truck. The men begin to make plans to breach somewhere else. Victor hrms, "Guard my flanks." He says simply.

No one likely saw it coming. The PMC and Natalie all knew that Victor is a big powerful man. He's got strength to spare. Alot of the PMC soldiers watch out of the corner of their eyes as the Victor steps up to the side of the truck, reaches down, grabs hold under it's chassis. Fire begins to fall down on him. And the soldiers within tried to stop him. Fire from Victor's gaurd flows up to stop them. During this Victor is as focused as he's ever been. Getting a good grip. He bends, then lifts. For a time...nothing. Then a groan. The truck begins to rise. Fire at the gate slows to a near trickle. It's incredible. The truck must way atleast a good five tons or more. Victor grits his teeth. Lifting steadily. As the truck raised up 3 feet off the ground he switched his grip. And lifted more. The truck kept climbing. At 5 feet, the truck tilted upwards, there is the loud sound of several pistons firing off, and the sound of screws cycling. The strength enhancing exo skeleton on his legs whirring into life. The truck reached 6 feet. Just it's back end resting on the ground by now, all it's wheels in the air. Victor stepped under the truck, holding it up on one shoulder. He let out a resounding growl. Then did another feat. He heaved, picked the truck up another 2 feet. Then hurled it 5 feet in front of him, crushing 4 enemy soldiers under it as it crashed to the ground on top of them.

He did it without even thinking. He grabbed his tomahawks from his arm sheathes holding them above his head and bellowed a warcry. This shocked his men out of stupor and they swept forward as the big Mohican charged in. They kept his rear clear as more PMC soldiers came up to help them. Victor had his mind on only one thing. Finding Natalie.

Vigil!

Yeah we need the GM to get some postage going here.

Vigil!

So then...how's everyone doing?

What's everyone up too?

Vigil!

2:11PM, a normal day, at a normal general repair shop, in a normal section of the suburbs

A bearded man knelt beside a pair of mountain bikes. Two people dressed in biking gear standing near by. The bearded man, in khaki pants and a T-shirt with the logo of a Canadian hockey team on is is busily cranking on a ratchet, tightening a brand spanking new bolt, replacing the old one that had sheered off just outside the store moments ago. They'd been lucky he had been open and available to help them.

As he's working his son peeks in from the shop, "Hey Dad? There's someone here asking for you. Says he wants to set up an appointment." Austin Martin smiles at his son Everet, "Alright champ tell them to come back here. I'll be done shortly."

Just as he finished repairing the bike. A man in a trench coat and wearing a beautiful Boss of the Plains hat steps in. The two bikers handed over some money for the on the spot repair and head out. While the man nods to Austin. Austin cleans his hands then nods to the man, "Can I help you bud?" the man in the hat smiles, "Sorry for coming unannouced. But I hear tell there is someone around here who knows about some under the table deals?" Austin snorted, "Well if it's a blowjob you want. There's a brothel about ten blocks down. I'm afraid all I have here is a repair shop pal. Sorry about that." Austin offered his hand to the man to shake, a small note hidden in his palm.

Later the man would read it, learning to return to the shop later after closing time. To come alone, and with a van or pickup truck.

Later that night

A nondescript van pulled up into the alley behind the shop. Austin waiting there in a sport coat. The man still wearing the Boss of the Plains hat getting out. And showing he's unarmed. Austin nods, then opens a warehouse just behind the shop. Pushing open the doors, and turning the lights on reveal a few rows of parts and things that need to be repaired. But beyond those masking shelves. Box upon box of various types of military equipment. Austin smiles, "So tell me bud. What do you need? Just got in a shipment of M21 marksmen rifles recently. If you're looking for something pin point accurate and quick to fire. What do you say? What's your poison?"

The Next day

Austin sat at the table, reading the newspaper. Listening to his family discuss their plans for the day. Everything is domestic bliss. The news of an explosion and the leveling of a building somewhere on the otherside of the city really didn't get his attention. There was other stuff on his mind. And it all felt so distant.

Vigil!

Name: Austin Martin

Age: 35

Occupation:
Legal: General Repair man: owner of a small but somewhat successful shop in the suburbs. Was a former Marine marksmen, not a sniper, as he didn't have the eye for it, but a Marksmen, firing mid to short range in the thick of combat.

Illegal: Fixer: Runs a highly lucrative Fixing operation out of one of the small warehouses he uses to store things for the shop. Runs guns, armor, explosives and ammunition out of the warehouse thanks to a great deal of old connections he has from his Marine days. Old friends "losing" a shipment of weapons or ammo and shunting it over to him. For that service they get a cut of his revenue from the Fixing.

On and Off again Operator: Though he was discharged from the military honorably and given his walking ticket, he still retains the skills of his Marine past. Still able to handle a weapon, and is quite a decent shot still.

Appearance:

Standing a nice decent five foot ten inches tall. With a Thick set body, muscle under a layer of slight fat. A big bushy beard and thick mustache graces his cheeks and chin. Makes him look like a big ol' bear. He tends to wear very common clothing. Short sleeved t-shirts, with this or that logo for this or that company, show or movie. With a variety of khaki pants and shorts. A single nose piercing through his nostrils. He perpetually has a disarming smile on his face. With a slight twinkle in his eyes.

Personality: Kind, warm, gentle, cuddly almost. He loves to laugh, loves to joke, always has a kind word on his lips. And speaks in a gentle way. He's continually donating money to charity, and helping the homeless. He's a paragon of his community and is so very well received among friends. This carries over atleast partially to his more illegal business. His customers are a very unique clique. Mostly mercenaries and people who don't want to go through proper channels. But even then Austin goes out of his way to be helpful and cheerful. Even going out of his way to get the really hard goods that his clients might need.

History: Oh what do you say about the average guy? Austin did his time through his schooling like alot of people did. He did okay in his marks, and really didn't distinguish himself. Even when he joined the Marines he was average, didn't stand out in many ways. He was given the role of Marksman in his unit. He proved to be rather good at it. Not to distinct, he made an okay recon and spotter. And did his fair share in conflicts that his unit were sent too. He did score some kills while out there. Out beyond 400 meters usually. But never beyond 600. He left those for the snipers.

When he left the military he came back to civilian land and drifted for abit. He had married during his time in the military, and had two kids. A boy and a girl. His wife and kids welcomed him home with open arms. When he went opened his shop his family was a little surprised but still happy. For about a year they were unknowing of his other business. Then his wife found out. And through her his kids. Amazingly enough they were not angry, or scared. In fact they thought it was fine that the father figure in the house had a second income. Strange people coming and going at their house sometimes. Odd shipments arriving at the store warehouse. A time or two Austin came home covered in blood. His wife instead of being scared would help him clean up.

So what can you say about the average guy? It's always the quiet ones.

Skills:
- Small business acumen, runs his own business
- Black Marketeer, has his eyes and ears on the underground market. Small time though so as not to make some people notice him.
- Decent Shooter, Using marksmen rifles, assault rifles and pistols. He can hit a target in the chest at 400 meters almost everytime. Up to 600 and it's hit or miss.
Gear:
- HK417 Recon, the sixteen inch barrel accurized mid range rifle. Firing 7.62 rounds, usually with Armor piercing rounds. A C79 3.4x scope attached, Muzzle break and green tri-beam visible light laser sight. Carries eight clips.
- Taurus "Raging" Judge revolver, 6 inch barrel, chambered in .45 colt. Simply put one hell of a side arm. Carries ten small speedloaders.
- One handed beaked style war hammer. Forged cold steel with a reinforced steel handle.
- Hornets Nest grenade, containing about 20 compressed hard rubber balls. Tends to carry five of these awesome little grenades.
- Combat vest with combat webbing attached. Plenty room for ammo and kit. The vest has a little armoring just in case.
- Ice climbing axes, and 50 meters of paracord for short quick decents off buildings.
- His ride...the family minivan, or well the one that his wife hasn't tricked out for her use anyway.

Other:

- Vigil, yeah I saw it. Vigil...fucking Vigil! (spot the reference)
- Won't take just any customer, they need to prove they aren't going to try to betray him.
- His family is made up of his wife Kerri, his son Everet and his daughter Lacie. They also have a security trained doberman going by the name of Astro, who really a softie at heart, and just absolutely loves the kids.

Vigil!

I am just quietly waiting. In the hopes I get some form of confirmation.

I don't wish to assume. And I've read there is just one Vigilante spot. So I can understand the idea of a lesser Vigilante perhaps being beyond what's wanted.

But then he's not purely vigilante so...not sure how this will go.

So I wait.

Vigil!

Hurrah!

I was worried no one would know.

For the beard. To be honest I was going to use Jack originally. Or even "Goeff" when he had that awesome 'stache. But Adam's beard...for the beard.

Vigil!

Moxana points if you know who it is.