Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-7489529-20141014032131/@comment-24301343-20141205045921

Arro coughed and slowly crawled out of the hole, dragging his blade along behing him.

He stood slowly in an unthreatening manner lightly slinging the roughly 10 pound blade over his shoulder. he looked back to bergen before taking a slow deep breath before Burying his sword in the ground and dusting himself off.

Well.... this should be interesting.

"Well... Uhm... Hello. First off i'd like to formally appologize for winding up in your warehouse, you see we were attacked by that psychopath you were preaviously kicking the living hell out of. Now, before you lose your head i'd like to explain that first off, we were only looking for cover from him, and he mostlikely damaged a lot of your merchandise." he said shakily. His eyes darted around and up to the place above the door way that there would normally be a number to said warehouse.

"So, judging by the fact that there;s no number above the door there, I'm willing to guess you don't want anyone poking around here. And what that man there has done, will draw lots of atention, he launched a missile at a grocery store and dragged both me and my dirty compartiot over there into a fire fight here. Which means, unless we can find someway to clean things up here, Vale PD will be swarming this place worse than ants on a day old Honey Bun. So what i propose is this, I can pay for atleast some of what was damaged.

"My friend and I are eacon students, so if say... the three of us, you him, and I, were to trounce Mr.Misiles over there, when the police questioned us, and we called you a good semaritan who decided to lend a hand, long after you were gone mind you, they wouldn't question it any further. We'll claim to have lost him, and you can take the damages out of his hide provided that you leave the guy alive. I'd say do what you want but this will go better if he actually has a family, to return to them at some point. How does that sound?"

Arro slowly hooked his middle and index finger of his right hand around his chain, a nervouse habit he developed when he was thinking. he looked back to Bergen to make sure the boy was okay, but not for long for fear of getting a truck shoved into his rectum.