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 Lenka (Ready for Voting.)

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Lenka
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PostSubject: Lenka (Ready for Voting.)   Mon Sep 09, 2013 9:25 pm

Prenote: Now... Thank you for pointing out all the flaws! I hope this is all correct, and I didn't forget to change anything.

Have you see the OVA or read the manga series of Hellsing? I've watched the OVA Ep 1-5, and part of 6.

Name: Lenka

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Physical appearance: Stands 5' 1". He weighs 104.5 pounds, (Not counting anything being carried.)  He has a very thin and lanky appearance, blue eyes, with the right being bandaged over. and short platinum blond hair, though it may show up anywhere from pinkish to greenish depending on the light, a somewhat stubby nose, and is seriously pale (Would make paper envious, Just kidding, but you see my point.) due to the fact he runs around with an excessive amount of layers of clothing on.   He hasn't started growing a manly beard yet, or any facial hair for that matter.

Clothing of choice: A black version of the 1937 pattern British battledress (BD) uniform, the one with long sleeves, complete with Toe-Capped black Ammunition Boots, matching trousers, a Mk II British helmet with a black hessian (burlap) cover, black 1908 Pattern Webbing, a grey Haversack, and black finger-less gloves. He wears non-prescription glasses (Similar to those you would use at a shooting range, The squarish angular ones that go slightly around the edge of your eyes. His are tinted red.) The right lens is shattered through, with only small amounts of the top part remaining in a circular pattern.

Weaponry of choice: A modified Bren Gun, made to be semiautomatic, with a 3-12 Variable Zoom Optic. (It is mounted on the side, slightly above the iron-sights.) The weapon fires .303 British (7.7mm) ammunition, split between three magazines for twenty-eight round each, (They are 30-round magazines, but if loaded to capacity, will jam.) one is loaded in the gun, two more are carried readily available, each in an ammunition pouch on his chest for a total of 84 rounds. The weapon's effective range is 550 meters, with the maximum range being 1700 Meters. (It was in yards, and I converted it to meters, which came out as 1691 M. I rounded it up.)

Spoiler:
 

Webley W.G Mk. VI Break-Top Revolver, firing .455 Webley High Explosive ammunition. Lenka carries this on a right-side hip holster, with six rounds in the cylinder, with two speed-loaders, each with 6 rounds, one silver-tipped high explosive rounds, the other speed-loader regular bullets, in a pouch next to the holster, and thirty rounds in a spare box in his haversack. Totaling 48 rounds. (He has 6 shots silver-tipped HE, 42 shots regular High Explosive bullets.)

Spoiler:
 

For really close combat, he carries a Cold Steel Hand-And-A-Half Sword. The blade is 33.5", with the overall length being 42 5/8". Boys being boys, Lenka saw this at an auction, and considered the fact he only had six rounds from his revolver, after thinking about it, he immediately bought the sword, and a black leather scabbard that he attached to his belt on the left side of his body.

Photo. Because it's that cool:
 

Lastly, for large groups of enemies, and for covering his escape, he carries three No. 36 Mills Bomb hand grenades with Four-Second fuses. The throwing range of a No. 36 is 15-30 yards, with the thrower requiring immediate cover, as these are Defensive Grenades, and the danger range is 100 yards.

Spoiler.:
 

Race: Human

Abilities:

Way-Too-Much-Free-Time: Lenka learned at a young age to Tap Dance, which could possibly be used along with a sword for an interesting fighting style...

Preventive Maintenance: Lenka's pride and joy, his Bren Gun, is cleaned thoroughly every day, Which results in the gun having a lesser chance of jamming.  

Sharpshooter: Having a couple years experience with rifles, he's a slightly better shot than average people. Also, he makes more accurate adjustments to the optics on his rifles, extending their effective range by 25 meters.

Organization: Unafilliated

Personality: He's not the type to rush into a battle, but rather one to sit in the back, and take shots at an enemy from a concealed position.  Outside of battle, He's the one you would find in the far corner hiding from everyone, he's shy, and blushes easily in awkward situations. (The kid has no social interaction skills whatsoever.) As for dealing with kills, he tends to not be bothered with actually shooting a person, as the last thing he will see of an enemy (Unarmored human infantry, at that.) will most likely be a person getting knocked back by a round. Though he is visibly sickened when he has to actually advance through the corpses of those he's killed. Unless, he is highly annoyed, frustrated, or pissed off, he will find something to take his anger out on, put all his fear aside, and attempt the destruction of said item without any remorse. He's diagnosed with Bi-Polar disorder, and is currently on medication for it, though he's a forgetful person sometimes...

Touching the area on the right side of his head, around the eye causes him extreme pain, and will most likely earn the offender a slap. That is, If Lenka doesn't just fall over in pain. Also, If you DARE touch his gun... He will sit down, gain puppy-dog eyes, cry, and beg you for it back... It's his one true love. Although, If he's creeped out or saddened by something that has happened, cats can cheer him up. Plus if he's given his gun back.

Being only Eighteen, he is too young to drink, smoke, or gamble. Of course, associating with the stereotype that it's "cool" to smoke, He's found a way to get a slight high out of catnip. Happening upon this by chance while playing with his cat, he dropped an ounce of catnip into vegetable oil, which knocked over and fell on the fire. Lenka and his cat then enjoyed the wonderful high this produced. Now he rolls them up in a way similar to a mini-cigar, and has soaked his medication into the catnip, as well as the vegetable oil. They are carried in the inside right breast pocket of his uniform.

Rank: None.

Biography: Lenka was born in a small, unnamed village on the skirts of Eastern Germany. At the age of Eight, his Grandfather gave him a .22 variant of a Karabiner 98k, the rifle having a shortened barrel, modified stock, and a lighter trigger pull. The gun was obviously intended as a Youth training gun. For the next several years, he tried improving his accuracy with the rifle.

In April 2002, a few weeks before his 16th birthday, Lenka was at a small gun auction in Munich, where he met a (rather shady) salesman trying to sell a 1937-issue British Battledress uniform. The salesman was having a slight bother, as the uniform was black, therefore making true collectors turn him away due to "Modifying of a Collectible." Lenka, however, found the uniform to be perfect in every way, and immediately purchased it. It included Ammunition Boots, A MkII helmet covered with a black hessian (burlap) cover, a dark grey wool undershirt, a black version of the 1937 Battledress Trousers and Overcoat, a black variation of the 1908 Pattern Webbing, with ammo pouches and a haversack, and some black fingerless gloves. Then seeking a weapon to go along with said uniform, he happened upon a semiautomatic variant of a Bren Gun, Which was being sold with three 30-shell magazines. He quickly purchased the rifle, and was warned that if the magazines were filled with more than 28 shells, they would jam and not dispense the round into the chamber. Being overly happy and giddy with excitement as he was, he put the uniform and gun in the back of his pickup, and drove home. Upon arriving, he was in such a hurry he tripped and rammed the barrel of the gun partly through his eye, poking it out. His glasses prevented any serious damage (To his brain), but he still lost his eyesight.

At the age of 17, he entered the work of a Mercenary, seeking to impress his Father, a soldier in the German Military of old, also known as the Nazi Wehrmacht. Lenka, however, strongly disagreed with the ideals that his Father's organization represented, as he believed that people were all equal, as on the field of battle, it matters not if you are American, German, or Russian, you can all still kill each-other with the utmost efficiency. As such, he decided that he could prove to his father that he was far more capable than his old man. After presenting to his father his decision, he was astounded at the anger the soldier displayed. Not only had the man's son dishonored him by becoming a hired gun, he had taken to be so similar to the soldiers he had fought in wars some time ago! And of all the choices his son had to make, Lenka chose the British! In a fit of rage, Lenka was thrown from the house (Literally. Doesn't take much to throw the poor kid.) and was about to be told never to return, had the youth not picked himself up, and defiantly stated he would prove to his father that there is a "Higher Path" of honorable fighting, and a nobler cause than the one the deranged Nazi followed. With that, Lenka turned, walked back to his truck, and proceed to attempt to become not only a full-fledged Mercenary, but a better and more honorable sniper than his Father.

Later that week, he was trying to become a mercenary, but nobody had taken him seriously. Getting irritated with the whole situation, he reached his saving grace by spotting a message board outside a bar. There was a mission being offered, to bring the body of a Gang Leader to the club, and the completer of the task would receive five thousand dollars. Finding the mission good enough for a potential anger release, Lenka noted that the man listed for capture was acceptable "Dead or Alive." Convinced this is how his career would start, he drove to a small parking lot five miles from his destination, took his uniform, and weaponry, equipped them, and made his way to a small office building overlooking the Gang Leader's home. It was listed as a low-level mission, with little to no guards, especially as it was Happy Hour, with the guards away and the leader alone. Lenka had a two hour window. Surveying the area and finding it clear, as the mission said, he proceeded to advance to the door of the small one-story house, and drew his .455 Webley pistol, loading six shots of High Explosive ammunition. Lenka kicked in the door, and put his pistol up, aimed toward the figure on the couch in-front of him.

"Who the hell are y-" The man is cut off by the thunderous roar of a .455 Webley round going off inside a building. The words had fallen on deaf ears anyway, Lenka had been wearing ear plugs, for the same reason as one would wear them at a shooting range. The man's torso explodes into a shower of blood, broken bones, and pieces of internal organs. The man's still-beating heart rests on the floor, for the main part of the man's rib-cage has been replaced with empty space. Walking over, Lenka looks down at the man, smirking, and replies in a simple, curt manner.

"Just doing my job."

He then proceeds to pick the remains of the man's upper half, which consists of his shoulders, neck, head, heart, and small amounts of his right lung, and place them in a burlap bag, having rolled up his sleeves and taken off his gloves to avoid getting blood on himself. Hoisting up the back, Lenka returns to his truck, and travels back to the bar. He walks up, but is stopped by a bouncer.

"No kids in here, ma-"

"I do believe this will get me in." Lenka holds up the bloodied burlap bag, the bouncer looks at it, winces, and realizes what Lenka is implying, he opens the door and hurriedly lets him in. A few moments later, Lenka arrives at the bar counter, where a somewhat obese man with tan skin, and a thick black beard, is sitting surrounded by two other men. His back is turned, and he doesn't notice Lenka's approach.

"Delivery." He sets the bag down on the counter with a thud and a bit of a squish. Before he can be questioned, he opens the bag, revealing its contents.

And so begins his dedication to the life of a Mercenary.


RP sample:

Just another day at the Office.

Or in this case, The roof of an office.

Lenka let out a breath he had no idea was being held. Lying prone on the 46th floor of an abandoned office building, he watched over his assigned sector of the city. His only orders being to shoot anyone that was marked by the other mercenaries on the streets below.

"Look alive. There's a group of two hostiles, Thirteenth street, they're going to come across your front at 400 meters in approximately six seconds."

Adjusting his sights, he took aim at the predicted crossing point. two small figures emerged. One hugging a wall, the other a few steps to the side. The two would-be assassins had no idea just what was incoming. These men clearly had no experience. Depressing the trigger, a single 7.7mm round fires off, impacting the furthest man in the head at 2440 ft/s. The poor guy couldn't have known what happen as the contents of his head redecorated his ally, and the wall behind him.

"Headshot. Attacking Hostile, Sector A4."

Another small muzzle flash, Only problem, there was a small geyser of dust off of the wall behind the second man. About at the time a very irritated Lenka was about to take a third shot, the mercenaries downstairs opened up with machine guns, peppering the last man and replacing him with a large paste on the wall. The cleanup crew would have a wonderful time with this. Lenka would love to smile at the similarities to his Father's job, only his father fought people in AFV's, and not regular people, but he had just missed a shot. And now he was Highly irritated.

"I'm headed down to the third floor."

"We're in the clear for the moment. We'll keep you posted."

Several... very long... flights of stairs later... He arrived at the third floor, entering a large conference room. He was greeted with the sight of several mercenaries betting over who would get the most amount of kills on the mission. Lenka, However, knew that being assigned "Overwatch" Was equivalent to "I'm-Going-To-Steal-Every-Damn-One-Of-Your-Kills-If-I-Feel-Like-It." He is somewhat saddened by the fact he is to young to gamble, but he brushed it off and found a seat near the window, propping himself up with his pack so he could see through it. Tuning out the noise of the room, Lenka checked his supplies. Twenty-six shots in the current magazine, Fifty-Six rounds reserve ready ammunition. Totaling Eighty-Two shells. He wasted a shot. Dammit.

Yea. Just an average day at the Office.

Note: When I say he was killing people, I mean regular people. Mercenaries. EX: The poor guys on the street below him.

Note2: Is this creative? I hope so!


Last edited by Lenka on Thu Sep 12, 2013 6:02 pm; edited 38 times in total (Reason for editing : Fix to round velocity.)
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PostSubject: Re: Lenka (Ready for Voting.)   Wed Sep 11, 2013 12:20 pm

Lenka wrote:
Prenote: I really hope I didn't miss anything. I've never been on an RP form before, and If I mess anything up, help would be appreciated!  Also, Methinks I have filled in all the sections.
We will be sure to notify you of every flaw.

Doctor Strange wrote:

Name: Lenka


Welcome to the No Surname Club. That name is Slovak, by the way. Not German.

Hishouseyo, Sutadasuto Doragon! wrote:
Age: 16
Not liking this age.

Waga Tamashi, Reddo Demonzu Doragon! wrote:
Gender:Male
Because we're men!



Maiagare, Burakkufeza Doragon! wrote:
Physical appearance: Stands 5' 1". He weighs 94.5 pounds, (Not counting anything being carried.)  He has a very thin and lanky appearence, His uniforms being often a tiny bit too large. He has relatively short platinum blond hair. His left eye is blue, the other being covered with bandages. He wears non-prescription glasses (Similar to those you would use at a shooting range, The squarish angular ones that go slightly around the edge of your eyes. His are tinted red.) that serve as a primitive HUD, displaying his current amount of ammunition, selected weapon, and speed. The right eye also is able to display the HUD within itself, but Lenka prefers the left lens of his glasses for this purpose. probably because it looks cool. The right lens is shattered through, with only small amounts of the top part remaining in a circular pattern. He hasn't started growing a manly beard yet, or any facial hair for that matter. Touching the area on the right side of his head, around the eye causes him extreme pain, and will most likely earn the offender a slap. That is, If Lenka doesn't just fall over in pain. Also, If you DARE touch his gun... He will sit down, gain puppy-dog eyes, cry, and beg you for it back... It's his one true love.
Simple and fragment sentences everywhere. A lot of this goes in clothing section, too. For the actual appearance parts, they need more description, especially in the face. It would also do some good if you had less, "His hair is brown. His eyes are green. His leg is broken," simple sentences, adding the description and linking them together.

Arawareyo, Burakku Rozu Doragon! wrote:
Clothing of choice: A gray WWII-Era standard German Enlisted M36 coat, with matching M22 Trousers.
Need a real description here. Lots of different uniforms that were in service during the time, so "standard" isn't going to cut it.

Koutanseyo, Enshento Feari Doragon! wrote:
Weaponry of choice: A MK14 Enhanced Battle Rifle, with a 27" Barrel. It has a Bipod, Flash Hider, a 3-12x50 PM II LP variable-zoom optic, and a recoil pad. Ironsights are also mounted along the left side of the weapon, so it may be tilted slightly so they may be used. The weapon fires standard 7.62x51mm NATO rounds, with One-Hundred Fifty rounds of ammunition. Five magazines of fifteen shots, with spare ammunition in a spam can in his pack. Making 75 rounds of ready ammunition and 75 rounds in reserve.

Mk14 EBR:
 
He carries 75 bullets in a can of spam? That's not plausible. This is also a fairly new gun (whose barrel length is shorter than what you've listed), so I'm not going to approve you having it unless there's an actual reason for you to be getting your hands on the latest military-grade hardware.

Shinkaseyo, Raifu Sutorimu Doragon! wrote:
Mauser C96 for close combat, with seventy-five rounds of ammunition, on fifteen-round stripper clips in a pouch on his waist.

Mauser C96:
 
Too much ammunition for this, too. I can't even imagine a situation where you'd need all of this at once. Could use some description of this gun, too.

Rimitto Oba Akuseru Shinkuro! Shinka no hikari, Shutingu Kuesa Doragon! wrote:
For really close combat, he carries a Cold Steel Hand-And-A-Half Sword.
Specifications:
Blade Length: 33 1/2"
Overall Length: 42 5/8"
Steel: 1055 Carbon
Weight: 49 oz
Handle: 9 1/8" Leather Wrapped Handle
Scabbard: Black Leather w/ Steel Fittings, attached to his belt on the left side of his body.
Photo. Because it's that cool:
 
Lists really bother me, so it'd be nice if you wrote this out. Also, this sword seems really out of place.

Run out of dragon quotes wrote:
Race: Cyborg (Beginner)
Metal Men, assemble!

They were in an issue of Beyond wrote:
Abilities: Enhanced longevity , slightly resistant to blunt weapons. He took a liking to Parkour, as it is useful to get to sniping positions.
I have a hard time imagining a robot doing parkour. You have more skills than that, too.

Ninja robots, because reasons wrote:
Organization: Unafilliated
Just your average, everyday cyborg running around with a sword and a Nazi uniform.

blkjhouh wrote:
Personality: He's not the type to rush into a battle, but rather one to sit in the back, and take shots at an enemy from a concealed position.  Outside of battle, He's the one you would find in the far corner hiding from everyone. Shy, and very reserved. As for dealing with kills, he tends to not be bothered with actually shooting a person, as the last thing he will see of an enemy (Unarmored human infantry, at that.) will most likely be a person getting knocked back by a round. Though he is visibly sickened when he has to actually advance through the corpses of those he's killed.
It's nice to see someone who isn't trying their damnedest to be Blade.

Looking up wrote:
How about a short like/dislike list?
How about no? Just write this out if it's important to your character.

Stuff that goes in an actual paragraph wrote:
Likes: Hitting targets, not being spotted, cats.

Dislikes: Missing (Deal with it, my boy.), Dogs, falling down stairs (Happens somewhat often.), Twilight, Corpses, Bloody/Graphic scenes (When near them.), People who scare him. (I mean if he were to meet such people, like Alucard, Everyone in Iscariot, Everyone in Millennium, The majority of Mercenaries, Used-Car Salesmen. He doesn't know that anything except the last two exist, so I guess he doesn't have all that much to worry about.)


Twilight doesn't exist yet.

Don't be a hipster wrote:
Rank: N/A
He has no rank. Better Xyz. Then we can rank him up.



Cards wrote:
Biography: Lenka was born in a small, unnamed village on the skirts of Prussia. At the age of Five, his Grandfather gave him a Karabiner 98k, the rifle having a slightly elongated barrel, and ironsights, as well as his very own reloading kit for the ammunition. Lenka quickly came to love the weapon, firing his own highly compressed shells, extending the range and stopping power of the rifle.
You realize Prussia stopped existing in 1947, right? And who gives a five year old a rifle? There's no way he could handle the recoil of even firing thing, if he could hold it at all.

Shoot your eye out wrote:
At the age of 13, he entered the work of a Mercenary, Following in the footsteps of his Father, and his Father's ancestors. Mainly focusing on Overwatch for convoys and defense of fortified positions. At first doubted, he displayed his skill with the rifle by challenging a mercenary to target practice. Having won, and believed by the other to have cheated, lent it to the (Rather unskilled) mercenary for one shot. The man held the rifle incorrectly (Much to Lenka's amusement.) and promptly broke his arm. After that, Lenka remained in the background, (Literally) keeping with sniping jobs that were more his pace.
So I'm seeing Pip here. Next, this kid is 13; he should be in school, not trying to kill people. No parent is going to let their child run around shooting people. What kind of trained killer can't hold a rifle correctly, either? This is, like, the D Team, or something. Those guys you call when you can't afford the A, B, or even C Team.

Grah wrote:
One such mission, at the age of Fifteen, he had bought a MK14 EBR. He mounted a Bipod, a flash hider, and a variable zoom scope.  Unfortunately, at it's first test firing, the recoil knocked the scope loose with such force it shattered his eye protection, and took out his right eye. (You forgot to read the instructions, my boy...) He then fixed the scope mounting issue, But now had to contend with the loss of his right eye. A HUD system replacedhis right eye, being contained within an artificial one. There was a slight malfunction with the color manipulation, and the artificial eye's iris is purple.
These are some major issues right here. Like I said before, that gun is incredibly modern by forum time, so he's not just going to be able to buy one off the shelf. He could MAYBE get one of the prototypes from 2003, but even that's pushing it. These guys really kind of suck at their jobs if none of them know how to work guns correctly. Again, though, he is a kid, and should not be a hardcore mercenary. An artificial eye isn't going to make you a cyborg, so you're really just a human at this point. In addition, that technology surpasses everything on all but the most powerful cyborgs on the forum, so I find it hard to believe these random hired guns have access to the advanced cybernetics needed to construct something like this. You don't explain why he feels the need to dress like a Nazi, either.

Nazis for no reason wrote:
RP sample:

Just another day at the Office.

Or in this case, The roof of an office.

Lenka let out a breath he had no idea was being held. Lying prone on the 46th floor of an abandoned office building, he watched over his assigned sector of the city. His only orders being to shoot anyone that was marked by the other mercenaries on the streets below.

"Look alive. There's a group of two hostiles, Thirteenth street, they're going to come across your front at 675 meters in approximately six seconds."

Adjusting his sights, he took aim at the predicted crossing point. two small figures emerged. One hugging a wall, the other a few steps to the side. The two would-be assassins had no idea just what was incoming. These men clearly had no experience. Depressing the trigger, a single 7.62 round fires off, impacting the furthest man in the head at 2800 ft/s. The poor guy couldn't have known what happen as the contents of his head redecorated his ally, and the wall behind him.

"Headshot. Attacking Hostile, Sector A4."

Another small muzzle flash, Only problem, there was a small geyser of dust off of the wall behind the second man. About at the time a very irritated Lenka was about to take a third shot, the mercenaries downstairs opened up with machine guns, peppering the last man and replacing him with a large paste on the wall. The cleanup crew would have a wonderful time with this. Lenka would love to smile at the similarities to his Father's job, only his father fought people in AFV's, and not regular people, but he had just missed a shot. And now he was Highly irritated.

"I'm headed down to the third floor."

"We're in the clear for the moment. We'll keep you posted."

Several... very long... flights of stairs later... He arrived at the third floor, entering a large conference room. He was greeted with the sight of several mercenaries betting over who would get the most amount of kills on the mission. Lenka, However, knew that being assigned "Overwatch" Was equivalent to "I'm-Going-To-Steal-Every-Damn-One-Of-Your-Kills-If-I-Feel-Like-It." He was somewhat saddened by the fact he is to young to gamble, but he brushed it off and found a seat near the window, propping himself up with his pack so he could see through it. Tuning out the noise of the room, Lenka checked his HUD. Thirteen shots in the current magazine, Seventy three rounds ready ammunition, seventy five rounds reserve. Totaling One-Hundred Fourty-Eight shells. He wasted a shot. Dammit.

Yea. Just an average day at the Office.

Note: When I say he was killing people, I mean regular people. Mercenaries. EX: The poor guys on the street below him.

Note2: Is this creative? I hope so!
That is a sample.
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Integra F. W. Hellsing
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PostSubject: Re: Lenka (Ready for Voting.)   Wed Sep 11, 2013 9:45 pm

it's fine to me I just need someone to confirm the weapons.

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PostSubject: Re: Lenka (Ready for Voting.)   Wed Sep 11, 2013 11:21 pm

Looking over the revised edition of the sheet, there are a few pieces that I don't necessarily think are a "good idea" but they're an issue of effectiveness rather than acceptable standards. The one nitpicking point I will raise is this line from your bio:

"At the age of 17, he entered the work of a Mercenary, seeking to impress his Father, a soldier in the German Military."

He just decided to impress daddy by becoming a mercenary? He dad was military, why did he join them? How did he even get started as a merc? You don't just drive on down to a temp agency and tell them you want to shoot people for money. It wouldn't irk me as much if you hadn't already proven you're capable of giving more detail than that. You spent a large paragraph focused entirely on him buying an outfit and barely a sentence on how he made one of the biggest decisions of his life in choosing a dangerous career. I want more substance bud. Take care of that and you'll be good by me.
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PostSubject: Re: Lenka (Ready for Voting.)   Fri Sep 13, 2013 12:20 am

This kid's a major sociopath to start killing that flippantly. That won't keep me from approving the sheet mind you, just an observation. I will be keeping an eye on how you use that gun though. It's not made of cardboard and Lenka's no power lifter. Good luck out there and have fun.

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PostSubject: Re: Lenka (Ready for Voting.)   Fri Sep 13, 2013 12:29 am

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