“Well… I tink it’s ready.”
“You tink it’s ready, or it ”sure-as-fuk” IS ready?”
The thin, wiry, man looked over his shoulder in annoyance before shining the flashlight over the entire rig of explosives in a mock inspection. “Der, looks pretty fukin’ good ta me.”
His partner’s eyebrow rose as he crossed his muscle-covered arms over his chest. “Ya really should check da whole damn ting again.”
“Jaysus, would ya lay of me fukin case?! If I say ‘I tink da whole ting is ready’, den I mean ‘da whole damn ting is READY’.”
“Take it easy, Redd...” The large man growled in low tone that said ‘take it easy or I’ll make you take it easy’. “I jus’ tink dat wit a big job like dis one, we should make damn well sure da whole fukin ting is gonna explode when it’s s’possed ta explode!”
“An’ it’s gonna explode, ya piece o’ shite. Now let’s get outta dis damn hole so I can watch ma handiwork.”
With a simple grunt of annoyance, Lupus carefully turned his large form around (which was a difficult feat in the old sewer pipe) and began crawling back towards the exit. With one last look at the large masses of C4 lining the ceiling, Redd flipped off his flashlight and followed his cousin with a devilish smirk still on his lips.
The air was cold, though Ireland’s summer was fast approaching, and Lupus’s breath created tiny puffs of steam as he stepped squinting into the sunlight. The clear blue sky and warm rays of sun were a testament to the beautiful day gracing Dublin’s streets. It was as if Mother Earth herself saw fit to bless the day that England’s Prime Minister would visit Ireland’s fair shores, and the people of the city could feel it. They massed the streets in order to find a good spot to view the parade and traffic had all but halted in preparation. Some people came to see the politician with hopeful expectations of reformation; others came with bitter curses.
The ones who sent the Blarney Brothers came to see the fireworks.
“Be Jaysus…” Redd muttered as he was forced to shield his eyes from the light. Lupus couldn’t help but smirk; his cousin always had something ‘colorful’ to say. Though different in most respects, when the two stood beside each other it was possible to see the similarities. First, the two had the same angled nose; it was genetic, they were told, and everyone in the family had it. Second, they were both covered head to toe in colorful tattoos of shamrocks, horseshoes, and other symbols of luck and heritage. They were Irish and they were proud of it.
That was, by all accounts, where the similarities ended.
Redd was thin, pale-skinned, but somewhat athletically built. The way he wore his shortsleeved button-down shirts, open and shirtless underneath to show his military dog-tags, showed that he probably thought more of his body than he should have. With a shaved head and sharp weasel-like features, a long jagged scar stretching from the left corner of his mouth to his earlobe permanently forced his face into some form of wicked grin that promised nothing but trouble. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black unless carefully inspected, and they seemed to block out anyone trying to look within; like they were filled with a deep void that no one would ever be able to cross. It didn’t often matter much, seeing as they were often hidden behind steel blastwork goggles.
Lupus, on the other hand, seemed to be nothing more than height and muscle. His frame easily dwarfed most others, including Redd, and his bright Irish-green Mohawk almost seemed to be a beacon above a crowd. His thick, knotted body was covered in battle scars, some old and some new, that stood out among the various tattoo designs. Most often his chest was covered in a thick bulletproof jacket, his legs in worn combats, and his feet in wrinkled boots. Just like the dog tags glittering on his chest, they were only remnants of a previous military life. The rest of Lupus’s stone-like facial features were accented by his bright golden eyes, which were a side-effect of several experimental steroids. They were the eyes of a wolf, cold and calculating.
“Best get to it, den…” Redd signaled to Lupus who pulled the large duffel bag out from behind the sewer drain and began unpacking its contents. The loud clicks of the assault rifles being loaded became drowned out by the cheering from the streets as the Prime Minister’s care approached the explosive-rigged bridge.
“Dem IRA boys ain’t one’s ta wait around.”
*********************FLASH FORWARD TWO WEEKS**************************
“San Paro… ‘da city o’ opportunity’, ‘where a man can make da life he pleases’… ‘sure looks like a shithole ta me.” The rain pounded against the cab’s windows in a slurry, making the bleak gray-sky hanging over the city look even more foreboding. “I already miss da Irish countryside.”
Lupus snorted at the pointless remark; Redd hadn’t spent a single day in the ‘Irish countryside’ in his whole life. “De only ting we’d be seein’ back in Ireland is a nice concrete jail cell, or more likely a firin’ squad.” Still, the large man couldn’t help but think that things did look bleak and not just because of the unrelenting sky; after the botched assassination, they would most certainly never be able to return to Ireland for the rest of their lives. They were lucky that a connected friend in the IRA had been able to smuggle them out of the country before the military had time to turn every pebble over in the entire city. That was about where they’re luck ran out; in a stinking cab, in a foreign country, with nothing more than a name scribbled on a piece of paper.
“Eleutherophobia”
((OOC: Hullo there! So I hope this 'application/audition' is what you were looking for because my cousin (Redd) and I (Lupus) have been really impressed with what we've seen of the "Rain Dogs" and would love to be a part of it!
Also, I hope it's okay that this co-written post would be a suitable dual-application? We tried to include as much info about our individual chars as seemed fit...
A quick something about us: No, we're not native Irish and don't speak with awesome accents. Yes, we're really cousins.
We've been searching around for a good group to really roleplay in/out-of APB with, and it's been a far-more difficult search than we expected.
ALSO: feel free to RP off the end of this thread, I'm not sure how you prefer to do things here and we'd happily meet whoever, wherever, in this large and unknown city.
))
“You tink it’s ready, or it ”sure-as-fuk” IS ready?”
The thin, wiry, man looked over his shoulder in annoyance before shining the flashlight over the entire rig of explosives in a mock inspection. “Der, looks pretty fukin’ good ta me.”
His partner’s eyebrow rose as he crossed his muscle-covered arms over his chest. “Ya really should check da whole damn ting again.”
“Jaysus, would ya lay of me fukin case?! If I say ‘I tink da whole ting is ready’, den I mean ‘da whole damn ting is READY’.”
“Take it easy, Redd...” The large man growled in low tone that said ‘take it easy or I’ll make you take it easy’. “I jus’ tink dat wit a big job like dis one, we should make damn well sure da whole fukin ting is gonna explode when it’s s’possed ta explode!”
“An’ it’s gonna explode, ya piece o’ shite. Now let’s get outta dis damn hole so I can watch ma handiwork.”
With a simple grunt of annoyance, Lupus carefully turned his large form around (which was a difficult feat in the old sewer pipe) and began crawling back towards the exit. With one last look at the large masses of C4 lining the ceiling, Redd flipped off his flashlight and followed his cousin with a devilish smirk still on his lips.
The air was cold, though Ireland’s summer was fast approaching, and Lupus’s breath created tiny puffs of steam as he stepped squinting into the sunlight. The clear blue sky and warm rays of sun were a testament to the beautiful day gracing Dublin’s streets. It was as if Mother Earth herself saw fit to bless the day that England’s Prime Minister would visit Ireland’s fair shores, and the people of the city could feel it. They massed the streets in order to find a good spot to view the parade and traffic had all but halted in preparation. Some people came to see the politician with hopeful expectations of reformation; others came with bitter curses.
The ones who sent the Blarney Brothers came to see the fireworks.
“Be Jaysus…” Redd muttered as he was forced to shield his eyes from the light. Lupus couldn’t help but smirk; his cousin always had something ‘colorful’ to say. Though different in most respects, when the two stood beside each other it was possible to see the similarities. First, the two had the same angled nose; it was genetic, they were told, and everyone in the family had it. Second, they were both covered head to toe in colorful tattoos of shamrocks, horseshoes, and other symbols of luck and heritage. They were Irish and they were proud of it.
That was, by all accounts, where the similarities ended.
Redd was thin, pale-skinned, but somewhat athletically built. The way he wore his shortsleeved button-down shirts, open and shirtless underneath to show his military dog-tags, showed that he probably thought more of his body than he should have. With a shaved head and sharp weasel-like features, a long jagged scar stretching from the left corner of his mouth to his earlobe permanently forced his face into some form of wicked grin that promised nothing but trouble. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black unless carefully inspected, and they seemed to block out anyone trying to look within; like they were filled with a deep void that no one would ever be able to cross. It didn’t often matter much, seeing as they were often hidden behind steel blastwork goggles.
Lupus, on the other hand, seemed to be nothing more than height and muscle. His frame easily dwarfed most others, including Redd, and his bright Irish-green Mohawk almost seemed to be a beacon above a crowd. His thick, knotted body was covered in battle scars, some old and some new, that stood out among the various tattoo designs. Most often his chest was covered in a thick bulletproof jacket, his legs in worn combats, and his feet in wrinkled boots. Just like the dog tags glittering on his chest, they were only remnants of a previous military life. The rest of Lupus’s stone-like facial features were accented by his bright golden eyes, which were a side-effect of several experimental steroids. They were the eyes of a wolf, cold and calculating.
“Best get to it, den…” Redd signaled to Lupus who pulled the large duffel bag out from behind the sewer drain and began unpacking its contents. The loud clicks of the assault rifles being loaded became drowned out by the cheering from the streets as the Prime Minister’s care approached the explosive-rigged bridge.
“Dem IRA boys ain’t one’s ta wait around.”
*********************FLASH FORWARD TWO WEEKS**************************
“San Paro… ‘da city o’ opportunity’, ‘where a man can make da life he pleases’… ‘sure looks like a shithole ta me.” The rain pounded against the cab’s windows in a slurry, making the bleak gray-sky hanging over the city look even more foreboding. “I already miss da Irish countryside.”
Lupus snorted at the pointless remark; Redd hadn’t spent a single day in the ‘Irish countryside’ in his whole life. “De only ting we’d be seein’ back in Ireland is a nice concrete jail cell, or more likely a firin’ squad.” Still, the large man couldn’t help but think that things did look bleak and not just because of the unrelenting sky; after the botched assassination, they would most certainly never be able to return to Ireland for the rest of their lives. They were lucky that a connected friend in the IRA had been able to smuggle them out of the country before the military had time to turn every pebble over in the entire city. That was about where they’re luck ran out; in a stinking cab, in a foreign country, with nothing more than a name scribbled on a piece of paper.
“Eleutherophobia”
((OOC: Hullo there! So I hope this 'application/audition' is what you were looking for because my cousin (Redd) and I (Lupus) have been really impressed with what we've seen of the "Rain Dogs" and would love to be a part of it!
Also, I hope it's okay that this co-written post would be a suitable dual-application? We tried to include as much info about our individual chars as seemed fit...
A quick something about us: No, we're not native Irish and don't speak with awesome accents. Yes, we're really cousins.
We've been searching around for a good group to really roleplay in/out-of APB with, and it's been a far-more difficult search than we expected.
ALSO: feel free to RP off the end of this thread, I'm not sure how you prefer to do things here and we'd happily meet whoever, wherever, in this large and unknown city.
))
