(Apartment? *blink* Who?... Well... it's a cabin now... the apartment is long gone... I know what you can do! *light bulb* Florence/Bub is at the bar now, and she's an agent. Hey Bub, just so ya know, Gwyn/Key is a fugitive who killed her father... hope I got that right... Sorry... rp's have a bad habit of getting out of line... and confusing everyone lol)

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

here goes mine:

Name: Storm (real name Michael Jones but he thought that was stupid)
Gender: male
Age: 29
Profession: assassin

Abilities: sneaking into buildings, killing with quickness and efficiency. excellent shot with guns and rifles, throwing knives, daggers, etc. glib at lying and persuading.

Appearance: ragged dark brown/black hair down to his shoulders, wears whatever he finds fit for the job

Weapons: assortment of guns and hidden daggers. prefers subtleness and usually uses daggers or shotguns in place of target rifles, machine guns, etc. however when the situation calls for it he is handy with explosives.

Vehicle: motorcycle, black sportscar. but is always ready to just pick up and run

History: He was born in a wealthy family in America. On a college trip to the UK, he was dared by a street gang to murder some politician or another. He succeeded, and has been on the run ever since.

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I don't know much about criminal life and modern weapons and stuff, but I'll try (by the way I only skimmed over about half of the rpg you've already written so correct me if I'm wrong on something)


He knew the cops were right behind him, so he didn't bother to look as he raced through the woods. Five months in prison, one day out, and these stupid fools were still chasing him. They just did not give up.

A shot hit the tree right next to him, and Storm leapt to the side as he cursed. Idiots! At least they could have given him a gun....

Ahead of him the woods were clearing out. A small log cabin stood in his path, he would have go around it to make good his escape....

"Stop right there!" a voice boomed over the speakers. "We've got a shot with your name on it aimed at your back, and if you make a move we fire. Now turn around slowly and put your hands up over your head."

Trapped against the wall of the cabin, Storm froze and slowly turned. He could see the shadows of the police against the trees, their flashlights and firearms aimed at him. He blinked at them innocently. His hand crept to grasp something behind his back.

"Hands up!"

"My back itches," Storm yelled back. A little further...

"I said, hands up!"

His hands closed over something hard....

"Hands up, mister, before we - "

The hand grenade, tossed by Storm with perfect precision, exploded smack in the center of the police forces. Storm launched himself through the window of the cabin and threw himself down on the floor as it detonated, blowing the bulk of the police force to destruction.

It was not until he raised his head again did he notice that the apparently abandoned cabin was occupied.

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(Oooh, awesome entrance! ^^)

Angle jumped to her feet, gun in hand and pointed at the head of the guy who had just burst in. She heard the yells of the cops and then the explosion. aha! Big money must be here... a grenade! Man this guy's gotta be in big business... "Who are you, and why are they chasing you?" She demanded, keeping her gun pointed at him.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

(lol thanks, I pride myself on being able to butt into an rpg with style )

Storm shook off the remnants of the window glass from his hair and eyed the woman pointing a gun at him.

Just his luck....

He was vulnerable, out of grenades, and was armed with only a few shabby daggers. Thinking of what a pathetic blow it would do his reputation if he got landed in jail again, he got to his feet with his hands before him.

He did a show of cowering beneath the woman's glare. If they thought he was dangerous, they would likely kill him faster. "My name's Storm," he said meekly.

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She couldn't help but chuckle. He acted like a kid in trouble he didn't mean to get into, but she had run into that plenty of times. "You good with a gun..? And are you up to doing a job?..." she questioned, softening her expression but not lowering her awarness. She knew what his game was. She had played it before...

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

"Actually," Storm said with a certain amount of irony, "the only reason they were after me was petty thievery. Stealing the lives of a few politicians, maybe a movie star here or there if I fancied. Nothing much more than that." He smiled the naive smile of a child - a sharp contrast to his biting words.

"As you can see, I am unarmed and, unfortunately for me, harmless. So you accomplish nothing by killing me."

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"Who said I'd kill you? I don't get into the habit of killing those who aren't threatening my life... Besides... if I accomplish nothing by killing you because you're unarmed, then you really don't accomplish anything killing the actors, politicians and such, do you? You accomplish as much as I would now if I were to pull this trigger..." Angle gave a slight smirk.

Still with her gun on him, she patted him down cop fashion, and confiscated a knife here and there and a couple handguns. "There... now you can sit..." She motioned towards a chair. "And we can talk."

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Snarling a bit as his only means of defense were taken from him, he obliged. In the distance he detected the sound of motorcycles. The cops. Perhaps he could distract her with some idle talk. Besides, if he could break into any building, who says he couldn't break out of a police station a second time?

"So, what's your name?" he asked, assuming a face of open curiousity.

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"My alias is Angle... my real name is of no concern... not even the FBI knows it. The field agent branch of the CIA keeps it... " She didn't like how he had changed the questioning on her. She heard the motorcycles. "You brought plenty of cops with you... " she narrowed her eyes. "And idle talk wastes time..." She looked at the dealer, "if you want help... come with me, and I'll help get rid of the mob that's turned against you..." Grabbing Storm by the arm, she half dragged him outside. "Come on... we're going on a trip." She tied his hands behind him with a wire tie from her right leg pocket then sat him on the back of her motorbike, tying a leg to each side of the bike. "I hope you have balance, because at the speed we're gonna be going, if we crash, you're dead without a helmet." Angle slapped her helmet on and slammed the visor just as the cops pulled up. She reved up the bike and tore out through the woods, the cops hot on her tail.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Storm complied without much complaint. Having done countless escapes himself on his own motorcycle, he had no trouble staying on. A few shots were fired in their direction, but all of them were wildly off target. Storm's mind reeled. Surely their assaulters were better marksmen than that?

Then it came to him, the answer dousing him with cold. They were not trying to aim. They were guiding, as a shepherd boy herds his lambs.

"SWERVE OFF! SWERVE OFF!" Storm screamed over the roar of the wind.

He could almost hear the click as the booby trap was sprung and the bomb detonated.

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Angle swerved sharply and jumped the bike against a log, crouching low to avoid shrapnal. man this guy's good... she hadn't even realized they were being set into a trap. She had been too preoccupied.

Landing the bike, she flinched as she felt her arm stinging and the warmth of blood slipping down while she turned the bike again, joining a paved road.

She crouched lower to cut the wind and turned the speed up a notch. Cutting off into several roads, she lost the cops, then took random paths, though she knew exactly where she was headed.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

gtg get off now eat dinner.

"Nice moves back there," Storm commented. "You lost them quite neatly. Now, will you at least tell me where the hel you're taking me?"

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(Ok, see ya later then. Awesome rp'ing! ^^)

Angle screeched her bike to a halt beside a lakeside cottage, a dock with a small motor boat sat beyond the dwelling, and a BMW Z-4 convertable was parked nearby. She turned off the engine and climbed off. "My place... what I like to call home, though I have several... " She took a knife in one hand and cut his bonds. "Thanks for the comments by the way... I pride myself in my skills at losing cops and feds," she smirked. "Though now it is my turn to compliment you on your quick thinking about that trap back there. Saved both our lives."

Angle walked over to the door and pulled out a key, unlocking it. As she stepped in, she pulled off her trench coat. "Dang, and I had this thing for so long without a single bullet hole..." she muttered as she looked at the schrapnal(o_o I know I'll get it right one day...) slice in the black leather.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

((Well Bubbles hasn't be posting...I'll try another attempt, lol))

Gwyn was walking through the woods, smoking her cigarette. She loved the silence.

Suddenly, the sound of the cops interrupted her moment of peace. She hurriedly looked for a hiding place, and then found a huge rock as her only chance of not being seen. The trees in these woods were not very thick...

As she watched the cops closely from behind the boulder, she saw that they were chasing a man who was obviously fleeing for his life. She remembered him. Storm. He was jail cell with her. So he finally escaped, did he? She let out a short laugh.

He crashed through the window of a cabin just as she saw an explosion. She covered her eyes, and then waited until the smoke cleared. She slowly walked to the cabin and put her ear against the wall. A woman who appeared to be an FBI agent dragged Storm to her motor cycle outside the cabin. Soon, more cops came.

Gwyn continued to follow them with precaution until she lost their trail due to the chase. She cursed and looked for any trails they may have left behind. She looked for any large amounts of grass that were bent over, or broken twigs. The police passed by once, but she just turned towards them and saluted. To them, she was an ordinary gardener.

Finally, she was able to see a trail. She followed it until she saw a lakeside cottage. It was a wonder to her that there would be a cottage so deep in the wilderness. She paused, and sat near the window. She smiled to herself, knowing that they didn't know that she was here. I wonder what they will do when they find me...kill me, perhaps. She gripped her fingers around her gun that was hidden in an inside pocket of her jacket and waited.

((Is that alright?))

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<center>
<a href="http://raindrops.lemon-drop.net/">Between the Rain Drops</a>
[ + @ # ? : ]

(awesome! ^^)

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~