<span style="color: #FFFF00">"Eh, the tupyye zadnitsy are tied up for now in the corner. The most noise they'll be able to make will be whimpers, groans, and muffled speech. Besides, I really only have two options. I can kill them or let them go."</span>Vasya replied,<span style="color: #FFFF00">"Also, as for your weapon, it's pretty neat. I almost wish I had something like that. <span style="font-style: italic">Almost</span>. Did you get to choose the weapon type and it's particulars?"</span>He asked this as he rummaged through what he would call the Scavs', short for Scavengers, bags and other loot. Most of the weapons were poorly cared for, the food was better, but only marginally so. but that was to be expected from the urban wasteland. Nothing stays good unless you<span style="font-style: italic">really</span>take good care of it. Which was a habit of Vasya's.<br/><br/>As if to prove that point, Vasya sat down and began to clean his weapons with meticulous care, inside, outside, and even went so far as to check the ammunition he had left or had collected along the way. He didn't want any malfunctions, since some can be fatal, or turn a perfectly good weapon into a piece of scrap metal, worth only it's weight as a club. He liked the Kalashnikov rifles for their reliability, but despite that, he didn't like taking risks with his weapons. After all, a poorly cared for weapon could very well be your worst nightmare in a firefight. If it malfunctions and is unfix-able on the battlefield, you're going to end up dead very soon unless you have the luck of the devil, or are the most slippery of bastards that has ever lived. Vasya liked to believe he was a combination of both, given how many bad situations he'd gotten in and out of with barely a scratch. Granted, he'd come out with a few significant scars from some of them, but what mattered was that he was still alive.<br/><br/>The point was, Vasya didn't like to rely on luck, and preferred to keep everythign down to his skill. But skill can't always compensate for the unexpected. And slipperiness can only get you so far, so he once he thought about it, he was glad to have someone watching his back, despite not knowing them well enough to fully trust them. Miss Aizawa however was an intriguing individual, and something about her, not just her weapon, piqued his interest. But he just didn't know what the hell it was.