It could be that you're simply a shining beacon in contrast to your peers but you do seem to have a sparkle of malice in an eye not quite dim with a case of the derp.
I'll forward your request to Silver post haste. Could be you'd be well served by making your way on over to the Blood Money. Little bar in Coronado on the old Armstrong. Where you'll usually find us folk, and where a somewhat more formal back and forth will take form before we hire you on for a trial.
Gods. I sure deserve this for killin' a frackload of people .
*Plays with a pocket knife*
Vega. You sure seem thick.
Copper suggested that you should be a new dancer in the bar, and you still ask what to do?
That ain't good in this business if you need someone to hold your hand and show you around the valleys of shadow and death.
If you even get close to me, i'll waste those 780 mio's that are needed to get the three engines in this piece of junk called the Armstrong, so i can tie you up to the exhaust ports and roast you alive.
So. Scram is your word of survival.
*Stabs the table with the pocket knife and switches the transmission codes*
Freemantle, the Reaver Merc. Co. isn't lookin' for pirates that prowl the Independent Worlds doing gods know what.
*Smirks*
Now that we got the 'politically correct' out of the way, i need to know more.
So get your ass to the Blood Money, and talk to the Reavers there.
Especially Copper.
If they see that you're cool, then you're cool. And if you're cool, baby-face, you're in.
Bye bye, Silver.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
*a tall man can be seen, a cigarette in one hand, a glass of whiskey in the other*
Now why ain' tha' f***in' thing workin!?
Oh! 'is?
well then lemmes jus' send ya ma infos...
Name: Darren "Combine" Keene
Ship type: CTE-19000 "Roc" Civilian Bomber
All g'd!
Tha'd be Darren speak'n. Since i 'eard 'lot 'bout ya dhe feckin' las' time, oi was wonderin' if yah c'd need 'noth'r hand, ye?
So maybe ya wanna know s'me more stuff 'bout meh? HA! I dun' care if yah wun' i'm gonna tell yah anyways!
*he laughs and lights another cigarette*
Yah see, i was born at Pitts, NY, fath'r from Pittsburgh, moth'r from Graves, Dublin...grew up, was detained, worked in a factory, was detained, didn' get 'noth'r job, was detained...'n BING! I thought: "Lad why dun' yah gonna do s'methin' witdh ye life? Why dun' be a merc?" 'N tha's whe'e i met yah guys...'n oi thought, damn tha'd be best, eh!
So lads, 'ere i'm be
rest of tha' procedure 's you's
*he throws the cigarette 2m to his left, directly into a small box*
Dunno who ye're been talkin', homes, but the Reaver Merc. Co. ain't just for drinkin' and partyin'.
We also break stuff and we get the occasional heads.
*Smokes*
So ye get yer ass to the Blood Money, so that me, Copper and the rest can have a proper look at ya.
Then we'll decide. If you're in, cool. If, not, the exit will be by the airlock.
*Smirks*
So long bubba. Silver.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:12:00] Traxit: this is smut stop
Afternoon. My names Blaze Aurum, a independent contractor. You are probably wondering how I came upon this channel. For several years I worked in the rather "shifty" business of lane hacking, so communication channels are not much different. It has proven rather useful in tracking down targets as a matter of fact. Regardless, your organization is a rather interesting one, one that I keep hearing about and have taken interest in.
My mercenary work over the past few years has earned me many names, none of which I would repeat in a public room.
*he laughs slightly*
But, Revolver is what some refer to me as. I hear your company makes more then I could ever hope of earning within a simple week. I'm sure you can infer as to what is on my mind. I am looking for new work. I wont waste your time any further with my lifes story, I rather let the guns prove their worth. So, what do you say?
Oh surely son, we're well scratching out head over how you accessed an open comm channel. Next thing you'll be telling me your secret to putting on pants is to do it one leg at a time. Glad to see your college years didn't go to waste.
That being said we're less worried about your guns than the head on your shoulders. You're no good to us if you're a damn fool 'as is going to step on the toes of the one employer whilst working for the other.
So why don't you head over to the Blood Money and we'll get a better look at you. Could be we'll need someone to fix that damn blinking clock at the very least.
Good morning, my name is ronald philipsen, male , 24 years old and i'd like to apply for the job,
not too much to say, just that the shooting and the tactics will blow your mind...
Hmm.. Never thought I'd do this but I wanna join again, be part of the Reavers as I used to be a while ago. Was a mistake I left and I found only boringness. So consider my request and get back to me, I'll be waiting.
![[Image: commslinkcopper.png]](http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/6917/commslinkcopper.png)
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![[Image: commslinksilver04.png]](http://img801.imageshack.us/img801/9025/commslinksilver04.png)
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