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this just in: RPG guild user Shuttlesworth singlehandedly ENDS feminism, movement declared over by leading feminazis, user planned to be given medal of honour
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Kaiju

16-Matt-London-KaijuBaragon#0180


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Oh crap, didn't realise this suddenly jolted back to life, will try and get something up tomorrow
18th March, 1997

The young man was only 19 years old. He had fallen into crime at a young age. Growing up to a poorer family in LA, that would sometimes seem inevitable. But his latest foray into unsavoury activity would turn out to be a grave mistake. A few nights ago he had cornered what seemed to be a regular old man, walking down a seedy street on his own in the middle of the night. The young boy had pulled a gun on him, taken his wallet then disappeared into the night, happy with his crime. That old man, however, while retired, nonetheless had a very shady past to say the least, and was very well connected - but most importantly, a fiery and ruthless temper. So someone was on their way.

Álvaro leaned his head to the door, hearing for noise within. The TV was turned up extremely and scarce else could be heard from within the run down apartment. Methodically, he picked open the lock, before creeping inside. The sound of the television masked his footsteps, and before long he was directly behind the old man. Pulling out a handgun, Álvaro suddenly brought it to the side of the man's head and fired without hesitation. He slumped down, and Álvaro placed the gun in the now deceased man's hand with his own gloved ones. After searching for the old man's wallet and finding it, he left.

"It's done."

The call was swift, and Álvaro tossed his gloves in the back seat - they would need to be burned later - before getting into his car and driving away from his most recent assignment. It was a relatively cool spring afternoon in Los Angeles and Álvaro enjoyed the car ride - or perhaps he enjoyed it because he knew that payment awaited at the end.

As he drove along he couldn't help but notice a considerable slowing of the traffic. But that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. This was LA, after all, the city of traffic. The thing that suddenly became unusual was the loud thundering of a helicopter over head. Álvaro glanced out of his window. A news copter. He glanced back at the gloves. No, of course not. The kid was just some low life.

A large clump of cars rapidly coming closer up ahead was in a complete standstill, beyond them, he could see the flashing lights of the police. He wasn't going anywhere now, certainly not towards his payment. Álvaro sighed. The police holding shit up for their little theatrics again. He got out of his car and walked up to the gathering crowd. A more chaotic scene awaited his eyes than he expected. Much more cops, all of whom looked vaguely uneasy. Not regular nerves, just general unease.

A large cop, one with striking blonde hair caught his eye for a a moment before Álvaro looked past him to try and find somewhere to squeeze his car by. He eventually spotted it and slipped away from the murmuring crowd. He could get enough information on what happened from the news, anyway.

The hired gun got in his car and squeezed the car down a small road running parallel to the scene. A green SUV surrounded by cops was all he caught sight of before he continued down and away from the scene. Payment was finally back on the way.
Potentially interested, may make a hitman/bounty hunter/mercenary type
Even though I can't read whatever is quoted in the post because I'm on mobile, I'm interested
Anton Chigurh: Don't put it in your pocket, sir. Don't put it in your pocket. It's your lucky quarter.

Gas Station Proprietor: Where do you want me to put it?

Anton Chigurh: Anywhere not in your pocket. Where it'll get mixed in with the others and become just a coin. Which it is.
No Country for Old Men
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