Two Years After Contact - Post Apoc RP.

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"So the kurva is good with her hands, igen? Maybe we could find that out later, eh?" The man closed with her, his brother hanging back at the moment, and the two on the truck just stayed there watching.

"Well, then. Let us see how good you are. Andros! Hozd a géppuska. Lássuk a kurva tudjuk javítani." He called out to one of the men on the truck, who looked at him in a puzzled way then shrugged, disappearing into the back.

Not long later, the man had joined the leader, who it turned out was named Joska, carrying a Kalashnikov. "Fine. This gun it doesn't fire anymore. Find out why and fix it, igen?" He nodded and Andros dumped the PKM on the ground in front of Natalija. "Maybe then we find you useful other than for orális szex."
"I'm impresed... takes alot to jam one of those! Vhat did you do, drag it thru a sand-quarry?" Natalija asked vith a slight grin, picking up the PKM. Now, vith the weapon's almost 10 kilo weigt in her hands, she had a very decent swing-and-knockout weapon if needed, all she needed vas to reverse the grip and use the momentum it-self to slam the stock in-to the man's temple to knock him out cold in a second.

She primed it, then tryed to press the triger. Instead of the reasuring "click" sound, nothing. The bolt carrier looked to be jammed, likely from some dirt that got insyde. Normaly, the rugged design of AK derivatives maked the weapons very resistant to any contaminants, but obviusly these guys didnt give it even the bare minimum of maintenence that it needed. Being a open-bolt design, it vas simple matter for her to reverse the action, giving her acces to the mechanism vithout realy needing to dis-asemble it. She took a deep breth and blowed in-to it several times, listening for any ratling sounds of dirt insyde. Sure enogh, she culd hear something.

"Da... nije ni čudo da ne puca." she mutered to her-self in Croatian, before ading to them: "Hand me a stick vith some cloth vraped around it. Lets see if I can clean it out vithout having to take it apart." she remarked. Once they handed her vhat she needed, she used the stick to dis-lodge the dirt from the bolt carrier, then blow a few more times, and make sure its clean.

Then, she primed it again and presed the trigger... and everyone heard the nice "click" sound this time.

She smiled. "There you are! Next time, dont use it to shovel dirt, and it shuld work for a 100 years!" ofering it back to Joska.
 
...

Then, she primed it again and presed the trigger... and everyone heard the nice "click" sound this time.

She smiled. "There you are! Next time, dont use it to shovel dirt, and it shuld work for a 100 years!" ofering it back to Joska.
"She actually could do it. Well then... I guess we'll let you scavenge here... but let us celebrate afterward, igen? We have some very good vodka we can have with dinner, eh?" He had Andros lug the machine gun back to the truck and the others seemed to relax now that Joska seemed to trust her and didn't look like he was just going to drag her off to be raped, either.

"Go ahead, I was going to take things from the kis járművek. It is bad to go into the anyahajó eh?" He started off toward one of the smaller crashed vessels. Most of them had been at least banged on a bit but Invader tech was tough, and it would take more than a bunch of men with sledgehammers and such to bust these things up. He headed toward the vehicle with a crowbar in one hand and a tool box in the other that he'd retrieved from the truck.

Other than the fact one of the men on the truck still had his AK pointed at her, she was free to do what she willed.
 
It seemed to be a rather normal day for Nora Rayn. The sun was up, hardly any clouds in the sky, the grass was green and flowers were blooming. It would be hard to believe that just a month ago the sky had dropped a couple of feet of snow, but there you had it, Montreal weather. Even the people were used to it, as they have been for many, many years ago.

For the time being, she was sitting in the remains of Saint Joseph's Oratory, sorting through some interesting shirts she had 'found' earlier in the day. It was a little strange, being a scavenging thief and sitting in a church. Not that Nora believed in anything, but her parents had. She'd often see Saint Joseph's as a child when she was small, it's dome recognizable from kilometers away. Funny that she only visited it after it was destroyed.

The main reason she had decided to stick around here as a home base was security. No one tended to get violent in a church, at least not here, where most of the population was Roman Catholic. Or they were in the past. Lots of people had lost there faith when they were first invaded. Nora had simply shrugged it off for the most part; it had nothing to do with her. This place was safe and she didn't have to pay or worry about anyone. There was more than enough place to hide her loot of the day, and that's what mattered.

A small smile came on her face when she came upon a Montreal Canadians' jersey. She knew there might be fans who'd actually want to buy it, but she was going to keep it for herself. She slipped it on, pulling her auburn hair out from underneath, and patted the jersey down. Yeah, this looks cool alright.

Once she sorted through the rest of the shirts, she headed for the exit, which once upon a time used to bear many pillars. Well, they were still there, just broken into pieces. The sun was starting to lower somewhat; perfect time for her to see what she could get in exchange for 'her' wares.​
 
It seemed to be a rather normal day for Nora Rayn. The sun was up, hardly any clouds in the sky, the grass was green and flowers were blooming. It would be hard to believe that just a month ago the sky had dropped a couple of feet of snow, but there you had it, Montreal weather. Even the people were used to it, as they have been for many, many years ago.​
...

Once she sorted through the rest of the shirts, she headed for the exit, which once upon a time used to bear many pillars. Well, they were still there, just broken into pieces. The sun was starting to lower somewhat; perfect time for her to see what she could get in exchange for 'her' wares.​
"Forgive me father for I have sinned. It has been way too damned long since my last confession." A man, well barely, he might be nineteen, came in as she was headed out.

"Got any food? I hope so, for your sake, cheri." The kid pulled out a pistol and pointed it at her. The way he was holding it made it obvious to a seasoned scavenger like Nora, that the guy had never fired it or had to. He seemed to be calm enough, but Nora had her doubts that the gun was even loaded.
 
"Forgive me father for I have sinned. It has been way too damned long since my last confession." A man, well barely, he might be nineteen, came in as she was headed out.

"Got any food? I hope so, for your sake, cheri." The kid pulled out a pistol and pointed it at her. The way he was holding it made it obvious to a seasoned scavenger like Nora, that the guy had never fired it or had to. He seemed to be calm enough, but Nora had her doubts that the gun was even loaded.
Well this was just peachy. A dirt-bag right by her sanctuary. Nora sighed inwardly, though on the outside she looked as poker-faced as ever. It wasn't too hard for her too; she had perpetually sleepy eyes, what with the darker circles around them. The only show of her annoyance was that she was looking at the gun he had pointed at her.

Had he ever even used that thing? She wouldn't bet on it. She wondered if it was even real. She'd found some rather decent looking fake gun a while ago, selling it off of course. Should've kept one for bastards like this. Then again, she had been rather cold and hungry that day.

"And if I don't?" she asked, raising a slim eyebrow. She looked away from the gun and up to the sun. Well, at least it set later theses days, but still, this guy was wasting precious time. "You'll have better luck finding food further downtown. Now, if you don't mind, I have places to go." Feeling confident he wouldn't shoot, she made to start forward.​
 
"And if I don't?" she asked, raising a slim eyebrow. She looked away from the gun and up to the sun. Well, at least it set later theses days, but still, this guy was wasting precious time. "You'll have better luck finding food further downtown. Now, if you don't mind, I have places to go." Feeling confident he wouldn't shoot, she made to start forward.
"H-hey! I'll shoot, come on stop." He pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. With Nora getting closer, she'd notice the safety was on and the magazine was even forced in the wrong way.

After she passed, he followed. "Hey, wait up! D- do you know where I can find some food? I haven't eaten in like three days and that was just someone's leftovers." His bluff called, the guy's bravado fell aside like water.
 
If Nora was a humorous sort of person, at least in the open, she would have probably laughed out loud at the fellow and his gun. She was still quite tempted to ignore him, seeing he'd felt the need to threaten her. Sure, it was part of the world now, but it wasn't so bad here, was it? Or maybe she was just better at getting her way?

She paused when he mentioned 'food'. Goddamit... oops, sorry God. She tried not to cuss, especially not around any religious place. After yet another inward sigh, she turned around, looking over the young man. "You know, you could have just asked me," she pointed to him. To leave him, or not to leave him, that is the question. She looked to the sky once more before looking back at the man.

"Fine, follow me. Don't try anything weird, or else." It wasn't much of a threat, but the way she said it with hardly any emotion was a little weird. Of course, it was just the way she talked, but most people tended to take her impassiveness as something to be wary of.​
 
"Fine, follow me. Don't try anything weird, or else." It wasn't much of a threat, but the way she said it with hardly any emotion was a little weird. Of course, it was just the way she talked, but most people tended to take her impassiveness as something to be wary of.
"Th-thanks. I owe you. Really." The guy followed along, but it looked like he had maybe half an hour before he'd just flat out collapse of exhaustion. It seems his bluff at strongarm tactics really hadn't been working for him lately. From how he looked, it may have been that he was with a group until recently. His clothes were relatively clean, and he didn't stink like he'd not taken a bath in forever either. "My name's Gerard, what's yours?" he had shoved the gun into his front pocket and struggled to keep up even though he was taller than Nora and should be able to keep up easily.
 
"She actually could do it. Well then... I guess we'll let you scavenge here... but let us celebrate afterward, igen? We have some very good vodka we can have with dinner, eh?" He had Andros lug the machine gun back to the truck and the others seemed to relax now that Joska seemed to trust her and didn't look like he was just going to drag her off to be raped, either.

"Go ahead, I was going to take things from the kis járművek. It is bad to go into the anyahajó eh?" He started off toward one of the smaller crashed vessels. Most of them had been at least banged on a bit but Invader tech was tough, and it would take more than a bunch of men with sledgehammers and such to bust these things up. He headed toward the vehicle with a crowbar in one hand and a tool box in the other that he'd retrieved from the truck.

Other than the fact one of the men on the truck still had his AK pointed at her, she was free to do what she willed.
"Thanx for the offer, but I dont drink alcohol. But a dinner sound great!" she replyed to Joska vith a smile. She vas a bit... irritated to say the least... by their constant use of the vord "kurva". She had no clue vhat that ment in Hungarian, but in her language, it ment "whore". She maked a mental note to her-self to ask him about it over dinner.

"Name is Natalija, by the vay." she added in a raised voice, vhen he vas already walking away.

"Wel, that vorked out... always beter to get on the peoples' good side then to have to knock some sense in-to them the hard vay." she thoght to her-self, leting out a in-audible sigh of relief. She didnt mind fighting, far from it, she tended to enjoy it, but she also vasnt the type to provoke a fight deliberatly if it can be avoided. Especialy where guns culd be involved, like this one. As far as thugs went, these guys actualy werent too bad. She had to deal vith alot worse in her time.

Not exactly hapy with the fact that one of them stil had his weapon trained on her, but resigning her-self to it, Natalija continued her round of the crash-site, looking around and noticing anything that looked interesting.

"One thing is for sure, I'l need to get my hands on some kind of truck or something, to have any way of moving any of this stuff." she scowled.
 
"Th-thanks. I owe you. Really." The guy followed along, but it looked like he had maybe half an hour before he'd just flat out collapse of exhaustion. It seems his bluff at strongarm tactics really hadn't been working for him lately. From how he looked, it may have been that he was with a group until recently. His clothes were relatively clean, and he didn't stink like he'd not taken a bath in forever either. "My name's Gerard, what's yours?" he had shoved the gun into his front pocket and struggled to keep up even though he was taller than Nora and should be able to keep up easily.


"Nora," she replied as she started walking back into the ruins of the once grand oratory. She paused a moment, looking back at the fellow. She could tell by the way he was walking that he wasn't doing too great. Had he ever fended for himself before? She didn't want to judge, seeing she was a thief and all. In any case, it might just be better to tell him to wait.

"Gerard... why don't you wait here," she suggested. Well, in her mind it was a suggestion, but it came out more like an order. "I'll go get you something to eat. You look like you're about to fall over any second." She didn't wait for an affirmative answer as she turned around and continued inside.

Food was something she didn't sell, at least not the canned stuff, so she had quite a bit in stock. It occurred to her that maybe she could make a deal with him. He had to have something, that gun for example. Even as she thought, she dropped the shirts she had been holding and picked up a couple off cans of baked beans.

Should be good enough, she thought to herself as she headed back to him.​
 
After the destruction of his lab, Dood has had to relocate, the only other space present: his home, his already cramped enough home. Still somewhat chirpy at his discovery of Nonooxgono - the atom unable to bond , to some extent repel, with oxygen. And Dunno - A silvery substance he knows nothing about because unlike Nonooxygono it doesn't show any distinct behaviour. (Both in liquid form) These names were made within seconds; he was never one to put much effort into names. If he had a child he'd probably call it ' Child ' Of course with a funny accent to hide how blunt of a name it is. Chemical warfare, home innovation, the possibilities seemed endless but unfortunately so did the time it took to make any progress. "It's been two hours... I've probably only got about 480000 left, or was it 470000 ?" Dood arose from his stool still pondering on whether it was 47 or 48 and by the time he'd changed cloths he was almost certain that it was 470000.
Dood left his house out of impulse, keen to peek at the neighbour's dog through the little holes in their house. The dog was short and fluffy with a weird width to lenght ratio. The sounds coming out of it's mouth were not barks but muffled speech. Here Dood was crouching over staring at the dog with a grin that must've been exaggerated, for all his teeth were visible. There was a problem though, there was no dog, in fact, there weren't even any holes, Dood was staring at a brick wall, unconcious of the fact he was imaging the whole thing up.
***OOC***​
I just don't know where to begin here. How is this an introduction post? While this is a very slightly futuristic era, going out and discovering a new atom in a relatively realistic world on your own, and without a proper lab is out of context for this RP. Then the whole thing with the dog, almost talking... and finally the whole thing was a delusion?

I'm sorry but I don't think you get the concept of an introduction post. An intro post is supposed to give me as the GM or the player an 'in' to where we can post an interactive response.

We don't know where in the world this is, and if any of it happened outside of your character's brain. Also, you might want to shorten your paragraphs some.

As this stands, this is an utterly unacceptable post for this RP. Please take time to review the background material. This post is nullified, I will give you one more chance to post something more appropriate to this RP and if that second effort isn't up to the standards and scope of the campaign, you will be respectfully be asked to leave this RP for one that would be more suited to your proclivities and style of writing.​
 
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Not exactly happy with the fact that one of them still had his weapon trained on her, but resigning herself to it, Natalija continued her round of the crash site, looking around and noticing anything that looked interesting.

"One thing is for sure, I'll need to get my hands on some kind of truck or something, to have any way of moving any of this stuff." she scowled.
After some looking, Natalija found something that she didn't in fact need a truck for, and it wasn't even Invader tech. Apparently a previous salvager was interrupted or gave up in their effort to break into one of the smaller craft, as she found, underneath a small pile of debris, a small acetelyne torch with the fuel bottle still attached, and reading about three-quarters full.

As she turned from her crouch to pick it up, however, there was Joska, making a 'shh' motion with his finger over his lips. Apparently he wanted that good time early as he was planning on keeping her at waist level. He didn't say anything, just smiled and extended his hands to reach for her shoulders.
 
Food was something she didn't sell, at least not the canned stuff, so she had quite a bit in stock. It occurred to her that maybe she could make a deal with him. He had to have something, that gun for example. Even as she thought, she dropped the shirts she had been holding and picked up a couple off cans of baked beans.

Should be good enough, she thought to herself as she headed back to him.​
"Th-thanks, Nora. Ever since my folks disappeared I haven't known what to do." He gave her a smile, and a sudden realization came across her then. Gerard might well look like a grown man, but his mind was definitely more childlike. What parents would abandon a developmentally disabled son in this sort of situation? Maybe they didn't have a choice? Whatever the case, Gerard was looking at the cans of beans like they were gold bars and grinning a bit too widely.
 
After some looking, Natalija found something that she didn't in fact need a truck for, and it wasn't even Invader tech. Apparently a previous salvager was interrupted or gave up in their effort to break into one of the smaller craft, as she found, underneath a small pile of debris, a small acetelyne torch with the fuel bottle still attached, and reading about three-quarters full.

As she turned from her crouch to pick it up, however, there was Joska, making a 'shh' motion with his finger over his lips. Apparently he wanted that good time early as he was planning on keeping her at waist level. He didn't say anything, just smiled and extended his hands to reach for her shoulders.
Natalija's lips became a single, stern, thin line, eyes narowing, as she realyzed his intent. She inwardly sighed...

"Men..."

...un-decided vhether to be amused... or infuriated... or both. Finaly she setled on a mix of the two... as her left hand, the one not holding the torch, snapped-out faster then his eye culd folow, to lock tightly around his right wrist in a steely grip, just as he put his hand on her sholder. Then she aplyed a reverse-lock on it, twisting it rather painfuly, allllllmost to dislocate point but not... quite, her other hand, the one holding the acetelyne torch, coming to rest at his crotch, finger on the activator switch.

Then, holding him like that, she slowly straigtened up, vith s slight smile.

"A-ah tiger... I dont think so! Lets not get too far ahead of our-selvs. Back off, or I'l set your balls on fire... literaly."

Her tone vas light, but the no-nonsense unblinking gaze she gave him conveyed perfectly wel she vas serious.
 
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"Th-thanks, Nora. Ever since my folks disappeared I haven't known what to do." He gave her a smile, and a sudden realization came across her then. Gerard might well look like a grown man, but his mind was definitely more childlike. What parents would abandon a developmentally disabled son in this sort of situation? Maybe they didn't have a choice? Whatever the case, Gerard was looking at the cans of beans like they were gold bars and grinning a bit too widely.
Nora motioned toward a broken stump of a pillar for Gerard to sit down on as she listened to him speak. While she might have been quiet, she was observant. The way he seemed... almost helpless, as well as his speech... She sighed inwardly. Blargh. She did have something of a conscience, even if she liked to act as if she didn't. Taking something from him seemed a little like her stealing a treat from a puppy. Only evil people did stuff like that.

Then again, was it even safe for him to have a gun?

She pulled out a can opener from her pant's pocket. It was one of those things she always had on her person, funnily enough. Sure, it wasn't something that was too effective when in a fight, but it sure as hell opened cans faster than stabbing at it with a knife. It wasn't even one of those fancy looking kinds, but Nora hated those; they always 'died' fast.

"Here you go," she said as she held the now opened can out for him to take. "I'm all out of spoons right now so you'll have to use your fingers, alright?"​
 
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"As you wish, sir. I'll reschedule your four o'clock to tomorrow then." the assistant nodded and headed out to her desk.

The food storage area was a supermarket before the Invasion, though most all of the windows had been boarded up, and there were sniper nests on each corner of the building. Currently, there were men behind each of those guns, two at the small front entrance, four more guarding the truck loading bays, and another two on patrol around the place.

Food theft used to be a major problem, and even the guards policed each other as they came and left to make sure they weren't taking home anything extra. The thing is, it wasn't the staples that were stolen. Bread, cheese, milk and so on were left alone. No, it was all the Pre-Invasion "junk food" and anything remotely tobacco related, that disappeared. Even the alcohol thefts were light - too many Texans knew how to distill their own for that to be a major issue.

Mark Jacobs was the head of security for the Galveston food stores, and he had an office at the rear of the converted HEB. That would probably be the first stop in Tobias' trip, unless he wanted to piss Jacobs off by taking men before consulting him.

(Gonna start color coating speech. Green is Tobias. Regular is NPC.)

Tobias holstered the pistol and left. He relieved his driver and drove himself to the food storage. He parked in the front lot. The lot was littered with the rusting wreckage of abandoned vehicles. Tobias approached the main entrance.

This type of work was nice. Before the war, being mayor meant speeches and paperwork out the ass. If anyone else were in charge they'd do just that. But Tobias liked the more hands-on approach. Even if it meant an early grave.

The guards at the entrance stood at attention as he approached. "Identification, please." Protocol was still to be followed. Even the mayor was not exempt. Tobias nodded walked up to the door. The small sensor that used to open the sliding doors hung from the ceiling by a wire. One of guards grabbed it and held it up to Tobias' face. The sensor was repurposed with invader tech. It could read faces and determine identity. But only if you existed in the FBI database before the war. The machine blinked once and spoke. "T-T-Tobias Denton." The guard let go of the sensor and pulled the door open. "Here you go sir." Tobias nodded and entered. He walked past shelves upon shelves of salvaged old-world food, fresh produce and dried fish; to the managers office at the back were Jacobs was set up.

Tobias tapped on the cracked glass door of the office. "Hey Jacobs I need a favor."
 
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(Gonna start color coating speech. Green is Tobias. Regular is NPC.)

Tobias holstered the pistol and left. He relieved his driver and drove himself to the food storage. He parked in the front lot. The lot was littered with the rusting wreckage of abandoned vehicles. Tobias approached the main entrance.

This type of work was nice. Before the war, being mayor meant speeches and paperwork out the ass. If anyone else were in charge they'd do just that. But Tobias liked the more hands-on approach. Even if it meant an early grave.
...
Tobias nodded and entered. He walked past shelves upon shelves of salvaged old-world food, fresh produce and dried fish; to the managers office at the back were Jacobs was set up.

Tobias tapped on the cracked glass door of the office. "Hey Jacobs I need a favor."
Jacobs was a solid man. Before the invasion, he was the district manager of the HEBs in the area, and a Coast Guard reservist. He also was a rather large and intimidating man, at least until you got to know him. He looked up from his paperwork, cocking his head and motioning Tobias into the office. "Well if it isn't the boss man. What can I do ya for, Mister Denton? Need me to get y'all some extra supplies over there?"


Jacobs stood, and extended his hand to Tobias. In his youth, Jacobs' father tried to get his son to do more than the college football that he'd done at A&M, because in truth, he could have. Six foot four and two hundred and thirty pounds of muscle, he could have definitely made his way to the Cowboys roster if he put his mind to it, but he liked being an administrator, and he was good at it. It was an odd combination.
 
Nora motioned toward a broken stump of a pillar for Gerard to sit down on as she listened to him speak.

...
"Here you go," she said as she held the now opened can out for him to take. "I'm all out of spoons right now so you'll have to use your fingers, alright?"​
"I'm good at that, Miss Nora." He said, accepting the can, and tilting it back to essentially drink out of the can. After a few tries like that, he'd mainly emptied the can. It was increasingly obvious that Gerard had mainly learned all he knew from watching television and the internet before the invasion. Most of his mannerisms seemed to be familiar, copied from action heroes in the movies. He even was wearing a kiddy-looking Iron Man watch on his left wrist.

”You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a place to sleep, Miss Nora? I slept in the back room of the Rogers Wireless place last night, and the couch left funny marks on my face when I woke up this morning. "
 
"I'm good at that, Miss Nora." He said, accepting the can, and tilting it back to essentially drink out of the can. After a few tries like that, he'd mainly emptied the can. It was increasingly obvious that Gerard had mainly learned all he knew from watching television and the internet before the invasion. Most of his mannerisms seemed to be familiar, copied from action heroes in the movies. He even was wearing a kiddy-looking Iron Man watch on his left wrist.

”You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a place to sleep, Miss Nora? I slept in the back room of the Rogers Wireless place last night, and the couch left funny marks on my face when I woke up this morning. "
Nora watched Gerard eat up the cans of beans quietly, giving a slight nod to his words. He had piqued a little of her curiosity, mainly because no one seemed to really come this way, which made sense. Who wanted to walk uphill to a ruin anyway? Yet he had, must have been desperate enough. No, he was, according to Nora. The way he finished the can of cold and icky beans in ketchup was proof enough of that. She saw the watch on his wrist; it was much in contrast compared the gun he was holding earlier.

She let out a breath. This guy'll probably end up dying sooner than later, she thought to herself. While he seemed to sound and act almost like an adult, it was clear to her that he was not, at least upstairs where it counted. It wasn't her problem though, was it? It was a world where the strongest survived, no? Dog eat dog, survival of the fittest, etc etc.

Curse my soft heart, she muttered in her mind before nodding to Gerard. Well, the Miss was an added improvement. "Yeah, I got someplace in here, if you want to follow." It seemed she wouldn't be selling anything today. Oh well, tomorrow wasn't too far off.

She headed further into the oratory, toward the now fallen dome. A couple of broken panels led the way in. It was more than big enough to sleep in, in fact Nora had a couple of mattresses pushed to a side; she had piled them on top of each other as makeshift bed.

"You can have one of the mattresses," she told Gerard, heading toward it herself. She tugged at the top one so that it fell halfway off. "Got a blanket too if you want." Maybe she'd take the gun from him when he woke up.​
 
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"A-ah tiger... I don't think so! Lets not get too far ahead of ourselves. Back off, or I'll set your balls on fire... literally."

Her tone was light, but the no-nonsense unblinking gaze she gave him conveyed perfectly well she was serious.
"Szar! I was just joking, igen?" He backed off, raising his hands. "No problem, no problem." Then under his breath, that word again. "Kurva."

Andros was getting impatient with his brother, as he was waving him over. "Megyünk most. A kutyák jönnek!"

"Szar! Ez nem éri meg. Hagyja, hogy a szuka megeszik a kutyák." Joska said, and all of the men converged on their truck, leaving Natalija behind without another word, but they appeared to be in a hurry.
 
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