Gottfried pushes his skewed glasses back into position. He continues to silently sit on the wooden bench outside and reads Zaytsev's Manifesto on the Rise of the Coalition Revolutions in Mexico as the maelstrom of eager applicants enter the recruitment office one by one, and leave one by one - occasionally raising his head to the sound of gunfire, before continuing on to his reading.
"Gellantra yelled while exiting his office" Where is this DEX!! Alright who do i have next. Gottfried and you whatever your name is. Yes you come in i don't have whole day.
Ethan took the coffee from the pleasant secretary. It was black and by the smell of it unsweetened. Not that he minded dark coffee, but this looked like motor oil. He took a sip, and smiled, trying to hide his disapproval of the taste.
I wonder what would happen if I asked for some gin.
Then another gunshot went off, and he quickly changed his mind. On the table in front of him were several magazines but he didn't bother picking one up. With so many people going in and out, some of them with holes in their foreheads, he figured it was best to keep an eye on his surroundings.
His stomach growled. It had been a while since he ate anything, and the last thing he did was a food ration on Freeport 1.
I hope this doesn't take too long, he thought to himself.
Konstantin glanced down the hallway at the Commodore's shout.
Can't mean me, he reasoned, I'm a citizen, name's on record. He must mean that guy who walked in here with a gun..
He stifled a chuckle.
Better not be hiding anything else or he's in for trouble..
Kostya sighed and stretched his arms, then glanced at his hands. Funny, these hands had worked on so much in their tenure, yet they had never once been in command of the very type of ship he had such a role in building. Granted, he'd flown them on the simulators back at "Star City" but that could hardly be considered the real thing.
But he couldn't help but grin.
Even in the confines of a stationary box that fighter's still one fearsome piece of equipment.
He clenched his fists and smiled to himself, composure regained.
Gottfried looks up as his name is called. For an instant, a disappointed look flashes on his face as he fumbles into his coat for a suitable bookmark. Finding none, he gives a light sigh and closes his book - putting it into a pocket inside his coat. Fixing his collar as he stands up, Gottfried calmly walks towards the office - his heavy miner boots clicking loudly with each step.
"Greetings Comrade," he said, with a light Rheinlandish accent, "Gottfried Verlanger reporting."
He gives a stiff armed salute and then stands at attention.
Kostya shook his head, mouthed back "Sorry" and stood up.
He needed to keep himself in shape; this interview would no doubt rattle him to no ends, hopefully not to the end, but he clung to whatever self-confidence he could. He knew his duty.
Walking up to the door, he took in a deep breath and turned the corner, immediately taking note of the woman's rank and disposition. Lieutenant Commander. Not happy.
Not ideal, but not a death sentence. Yet.
He moved over to the chair and seated himself quickly, nodding to the soldier before him.
"Here, Comrade Lieutenant Commander. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. My name's Konstantin Petrovin."
![[Image: overtrolltest.png]](http://i222.photobucket.com/albums/dd241/ghorvat5/overtrolltest.png)
![[Image: Tyrael.gif]](http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20070319171309/diablo/images/a/a5/Tyrael.gif)