Avatar of PyroFox
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    1. PyroFox 10 yrs ago

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Otmos, are you of being the Kurai or of the Hikari?
If its Modern, Feudal, etc.
Important question. Where and when does this take place?
I will watch this. Already got two thoughts up for characters, depending on how many Hikari or Kurai guys show up.
I am here. I will be posting by tomorrow night. I've been caught up doing a few other things on some other sites, along with graduation stuff. I'll get right on working on something for ya.
After a few more seconds, he swallowed the coffee scorching his throat and took a deep breath. He waved off Nellie, and took a moment to recollect himself. "Fine, I'm fine," he managed to croak, coughing a few times. Not only did the coffee nearly burn off his tongue, it went down the wrong way and was currently incinerating his lungs. If only there was someone here that could manipulate heat, he'd probably give up half his money to get them to cool his dumbass off. But, as it was, he merely stood straight, poured the other half of his coffee down the nearest sink, and told Nellie, "Thank you for the concern, but I'm fine. Coffee's just a bit too hot, is all."

Finally, the team leader began to speak, so Ellis quieted down and listened intently. He was a bit disappointed in the job he was given, but what could one do? It was the easy job for the infiltrators, the guys that didn't go out on the front lines to fight. Except Khan, who was most likely there to keep the rest of them from getting shot, or to be a sort of tank. He might have a gun, but one doesn't ignore the charging bull, even if there is a sniper behind it.

Regardless of his personal observations, he thanked Arynn for the earpiece, stuffed it into his ear, and prayed to God that it wouldn't deafen him when everyone started chatting in the middle of the mission, because it was bound to happen at some point. He'd need to ask if there was a volume control on it.

Caught on the blindside, Ellis jumped a little when Victor appeared next to him. He was a little busy in his daydreams and thoughts to have noticed someone walking up to him. Once Victor was done introducing himself, Ellis gave him a firm handshake and said, "Name's Ellis, Williams, or Bloodhound, whichever you prefer. And the only thing I can think of to get the cars to where they won't run is to disable the battery or slash the tires. We'll have to ask Aces over there about it before we go, I suppose. Don't want to have to buy new tires or batteries. Stuff's expensive." He cleared his throat when Victor mentioned killing, and commented, "Then I'll have to leave that to you. I'm a tracker, not a fighter. Gun's for show, mostly."

Speaking of guns, one of the two nuts showed up to give him a piece of advice on the whole thing. Joy of joys. He listened, rather patiently, to him about the gun, and finally just ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Fine, you wanna take a go at it, here it is." Ellis took out the pistol, held it by the barrel, and held the grip out towards Murphy.
Are you implying Ellis isn't the most fashionable man on earth?
Wait until you see his casual attire.
It was nice that she was able to talk to him better than he could to her. And even better that she was a cook. Or baker, rather. Ah, it would be so nice to walk into their home and smell a fresh cake or pie cooling on the counter. The thought made his stomach growl, which he then apologized for, though he took no time to look for anything to eat. It wasn't great to eat before a mission, why with all the running and jostling around. Made for one to be a bit too slow or, in some cases, get sick.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and said, "Well, I actually didn't have a tough childhood. Fairly normal, actually. Kids didn't like me, but that hardly counts as it being tough. Uh, well, as I'm sure you guessed, I like video games, though I am terrible at most of them. Hadn't had much leisure time lately." While he spoke, he had begun to prepare himself another pot of coffee, glad that at least one Starbucks in the world was able to produce it without a ton of fillers and creamers and fruity nonsense. "I've never understood the need for people to put so much junk in their coffee. Isn't milk and sugar enough?" he asked, lamenting over a silly thing.

"Anyways, as for the game, I could get some of my stuff mailed in once we get the warehouse. Xbox, computer, controllers, games. It would be good for us all to have something to do in our down time other than train. Blow off a bit of steam, get mad at each other, get beat up by the other assaults. Fun times all around!" He managed a grin, then took another draught of his coffee, nearly choking on it as scorched his tongue. If he'd been able to, he'd probably have sworn up a storm. As it was, he just set the mug on the table and covered his mouth, face red from the experience.
His ears twitched as he heard Nellie coming, and, instead of turning to look at her, he replied, "Just as surely as this city will. Might die young, might as well get some enjoyment out of life." He smiled and turned to face her, then gave a nervous laugh and ran his hand through his hair. "Sorry, that was a bit morbid. But, you're right, I shouldn't smoke as much as I do. I'll try to tone it down a bit for you, if it'll make you feel better." He took another long drink of his coffee, then set the empty mug on the counter.

"Never heard of it, huh? It's kind of an older game, early 2000's, was about these four people who were trying to survive the apocalypse. One of the character's names was Ellis, was a real country hick. I expect Murphy over there to get it, so it was a word of warning to him, mostly." He was honestly surprised she hadn't heard of it, however that was beside the point. "Er, sorry, didn't mean to bore you with some dumb game reference."

Wow, Ellis, smooth, he thought, letting out a sigh. He wasn't good talking to people he didn't know well, and tended to either ramble about something stupid or not talk at all. It was hard to find a good middle ground, but he didn't want it to fall into an awkward silence. To fill that void, he'd just ask a simple question. Get her to do all the work and talk. "So, I missed a bit there. Care to fill me in on what the other's are like? Or, if you don't feel like gossiping, just something about you. I totally understand if you don't want to talk to a stranger about yourself, though," he added hastily, beginning to get flustered again.
"Thanks for letting a friend in," he said, then slipped past and shut the door behind him. Since everyone else had gone on and introduced themselves, he figured he might as well say something quick for them, just to be fair. ""Name's Ellis Williams, and if I hear one crack about the name or a Left 4 Dead 2 reference, I'm going to break you're nose. My Bloodline, as ridiculous as it sounds, comes from a Greek monster called Argos, and allows me to hear, see, and smell more than any one else on Earth. So, no need for introductions, because I heard you all on the way over here." He smiled, nodded, then went around behind the counter to make some coffee. "If anyone else wants anything, I'll be back here."

It's too bad Ellis couldn't speak Russian, else he'd attempt to listen in on the boss's conversation. As it were, he tuned his ears and got a good look at the rest of the people in Division Six. Sloan, the smooth talker who could use his voice to sway others, was one that he in particular disliked, simply on principle of his Bloodline. It wasn't right to have a voice like that, especially in the hands of the Butei Intelligence. Nothing he could do about it now, though, so he settled on staring at the man for a few seconds before turning his gaze back down to the black mug of coffee in his hands.

He put out the cigarette, and took a sip of his coffee. The taste was horrid, but it did what it needed. It would be a long night, and he would need the caffeine to stay up and alert throughout the night. With a sigh, he began to look for any other Americans around, so he could hold up a conversation with someone, if they were willing. Unfortunately, the only one he could pick out as decidedly American was a country boy wearing an Army shirt and pretty much anything else one could get out of a surplus store. And as for the foreigners, he really had nothing to say to any of them either, so rather he just got himself comfortable behind the counter, sipping on his coffee while the rest exchanged pleasantries.
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