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Author Topic: Insurrection II — [A New Day, pt. 3] — Mission Briefing  (Read 11225 times)

Alexander quickly puts together a simple meal from what is avaliable and eats it.

Petir sees Alexander hastily shoveling down food.  "You alright, there?"

Petir begins peeling the orange he got in the food line.

Nearby shouting can be heard from a group of operatives surrounding a small table.  Seated at the table are a WDg and a GDg locked in an arm wrestling match.  They seem to be placing bets on which of their officers will win the match.

At the last moment, an older gentleman in an ONM officer's outfit, complete with a navy blue beret, strode passed the gates and toward Viktor Novil.  The two exchanged greetings, before Novil guided the man by the shoulder toward the offices, speaking all the way there.

Around the same time, Alexandru walked into the compound, walking over to spectate the arm wrestling match and even participate.

"It's gone on for a whole two minutes." Petir remarks as Alexandru walks forward as he shoots a glance at Nogil and the ONM officer.  "It seems the gearhead has an upper hand", Petir says while gesturing to the man with torn off sleeves, revealing large muscles.  The two men are red in the face, but still persisting while the operatives around them cheer on.

"Winner will accept any challenger", Petir remarks after a moment, "The gearhead is Norum Vadeslav, and the pup is Maxim Kovalevich."

Suddenly, Kovalevich turns the match around, quickly finishing it after the Gear-Dog gives in.  A surge of cheers and boos arise from the crowd that gathered around.  Money is withdrawn from the pot and distributed to the winning betters.  As Vadeslav massages his arm and shoulder, a man shouts, "Kovalevich has won, and is accepting a challenger!"

"Good luck", Petir jests while patting Alexandru on the back, moving him forward a bit.
« Last Edit: March 22, 2016, 04:29:12 PM by SWAT One »

Alexandru's arm shot up, "Right here!" he shouted and stepped forward.  He confidently strode toward the table and seat, sitting down and planting his elbow on the table, ready to go.

Alexandru's arm shot up, "Right here!" he shouted and stepped forward.  He confidently strode toward the table and seat, sitting down and planting his elbow on the table, ready to go.
A number of operatives around Alexandru begin to laugh to themselves.  Money goes into the pot (an old, cracked hard-hat) as a boot scrambles to write down names and contributions to the pot.  Kovalevich, finishing off a swig from a water bottle, looks down and nearly spits out his water, holding back a laugh.  Clearing his throat, Kovalevich responds, "Alright, Emilescu, let's get this over with" as he sets his arm on the table.

Petir tosses a note into the pot.  "Ten Kapita for Emilescu, please."  Petir receives weird looks, but remains resolute.

The boot then nods to the de facto announcer and referee, and cries out, "Last call for bets!  Kovalevich vs. Emilescu!""
« Last Edit: March 22, 2016, 06:41:10 PM by SWAT One »

Alexandru grasped the man's hand firmly, ready to begin the competition, "You're going down, man!" he said, smiling.

"Hold, gentlemen, hold", the announcer remarks.  The boot finishes counting the pot.  " We have 243 K for Kovalevich and 36 K for Emilescu!  Bets are now closed at 279 K!"

"On my mark.  Ready?  Aaaand GO!"  The referee swings down his arm and Emilescu's arm is driven 20° back instantly.  Alexandru quickly finds that Kovalevich is no weak man.  They struggle for a good 30 seconds locked to Kovalevich's advantage.  The crowd begins cheering as Kovalevich presses Alexandru's hand 60°, but after a while, fatigue from the previous match begins to get the better of Kovalevich.  His progress stops and soon reverses as Alexandru bushes Kovalevich back to 40°, then 15°, then at center.  Alexandru feels his face become hot as blood rushes to it.  In a final act of despiration, Kovalevich gives it his all and tries to push Alexandru back.  Alexandru begins shaking as he resists this push.  As a drop of sweat rolls down his forehead, he pushes with all his strength and overcomes Kovalevich, slamming his hand to the table.  The crowd then murmurs in disappointment and protest as Alexandru is declared the winner.  The beaten Kovalevich, panting, stretches his hand out to Alexandru.  "I thank you for the good match.  I know when I am beaten." he says, although with a bit of a forced tone.

Petir and another man decide the pot evenly between themselves, and begin talking nearby to one another.

Alexandru shook his hand, "Work on your endurance my
man," he said, a stuff-eating grin plastered across his face.  He then dropped his hand and turned, "How much you get Petir!?" he shouted as he threw an arm around the man.

"We got the whole pot, 279.  This is Vtn. Georgi Tul", Petir says, gesturing to the man standing next to him, and the only other man who wavered for Alexandru.
Congratulations, Mr. Emilescu.  You did well", he says, shaking Alexandru's hand.  Your efforts will not go unrewarded", Tul says as he hands Alexandru a wad of notes and a few coins.

What the hell just happened

Suljo waits for the speech.

What the hell just happened

Suljo waits for the speech.
Casual roleplay while waiting for the speech.  An arm wrestling match, to be specific.

Alexandru shook the man's hand firmly, accepting the money, "A pleasure to meet you, and thanks," he said.  Shortly afterward, Novil emerged from the offices.  He stepped up onto a nearby stage, crudely made with what resources the PRM had available to them.  "Ladies and gentlemen of the Osvon People's Reclamation Militia.  The time has finally come to end our passive resistance!  We have finally secured a reliable method of procuring supplies to begin an offense against Kreusche's regime!"  Novil stopped as several people began to cheer.  "Now, in order to take our land back, we need volunteers!  Please, I want to see hands, we need volunteers to help us fight!" he called out.  Alexandru, among a handful of others, raised his hand.

Petir raises his hand.
« Last Edit: March 22, 2016, 09:28:29 PM by SWAT One »

Suljo looks side to side, and raises his hand with a smug look on his face.