Bretonian Armed Forces Recruitment Centre (iRP)

[Cipher]

The male pushed open the door of the recruitment office, instantly locking-eyes with the recruiter seated in his chair.

'Hmph. Check this guy out, why's he looking at me that why?' Tristan Anders thought to himself.

He wore a heavy scowl, the others seated in the room reading over the requirements to join gazed up at him. He glared back indifferent.

'Do I smell fear?' He allowed a smirk to dance across his lips as the thought ran across his mind.

He jammed his hands in his pockets, his messy blonde hair shuffling around his icy blue eyes, his smug smirk spoke measures of the male. He appraoched the desk, putting both hands down on the desk bringing his face into the recruiters, eyes locked once again.

"Anders, Tristan. Sign me up. Age Twenty-Two. I used to run races down in Dublin, till the BPA almost caught me. I'm bored. I need something to do. They called me the "Showstopper." I can fly circles around most anybody. Do I qualify?"

The recruiter swallowed annoyed at Tristan's close proximity.

"Depends, are you in good health, and what's your eyesight?"

"Yes, and 20-20. Anything else, bro'?"

'Easier than I thought.' He chuckled to himself at the recruiters annoyed expression. He backed off, and put his arms around his neck, locking his fingers at the back of his neck.

"Then, I don't see why you can't join up. Any requests on assignment, we've got a nice soft place for you patrolling New London." replied the recruiter smirking up at the kid.

Tristan visibly frowned, his expression hardened, he actually look quite pissed off, scary even. He reached at the recruiter grabbing him at the neck of his shirt pulling him close.

"Listen here buddy. I want to fight, I'm tired of sitting around. Send me up against anyone, Corsair, Kusari, hell, even the Gallics, I don't care. I don't need desk-jockeys like you talking down to me, got it? Good."

He pushed the recruiter back against his chair, Tristan turned and walked off, leaving the office.

'Whoever decides to tick me off again today, is getting hit. Hard.' He held his grimace.

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The recruiter angry with the citizen's behavior went to go see his superior about Tristans application, praying it would be denied. He really didn't want to see the kid again. He knocked on the door, and entered.

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Tristan stepped into his Arrow light interceptor. He keyed the engines, and set them to full, blasting off, literally.

He pulled an immemann turn and a split-s before leaving orbit. He grinned.

"Ignition."


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OORP: New here, requesting the sign on bonus if approved. Just enough to set my Templar up, that's what I'm good at. Thank you.

Respectfully, Cipher.

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