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<blockquote data-quote="DrZombie" data-source="post: 1403807" data-attributes="member: 15640"><p>Friday 05-mar-04, 07:00</p><p> </p><p>You awake from a deep sleep by the sharp voice of your alarm-clock. Morning television is apparently unknown here, they just show some reruns of yesterday evening-news. Thank god for BBC. Some breakfast and a shower later you feel like a new person. At about a quarter to eight your buzzer indicates someone is at the door. </p><p>"Iet is aai. It ies taaim", unmistakably Sergio. Apparently he pressed two buzzers, because he seems to be talking to two persons at the same time, overtaxing his vocabulary.</p><p>This time you're not the only passenger in the car : someone else got in, a future colleague?</p><p> </p><p>[ooc : feel free to introduce yourselves]</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>You arrive in Brussels at the europarlaiment. A new, imposing building in a sterile corporate area. The place is wellpatrolled by the police, keeping vagrants and beggars away. Wageslaves in their suits walk around in a hurry, like so much scurrying ants. Sergio parks the car in the underground carpark, and guides you to an office at the fifth floor.</p><p>"Come in" a polite voice says after your tentative knock. Parts of a design desk are visible under a clutter of hardcopy files, and the air is a bit hazy, testimony to mr. Vanderschots denial that smoking is dangerous to your health, and to the non-importance of all the non-smoking signs you've seen in this building.</p><p> </p><p>"Aaah, miss Archer, mr Coville, welcome in Brussels." The man is built like a brick, with big hands that envelop yours as he gives you a firm handshake. The pockmarked face and the pathetic attempt at hiding an ever-increasing bald spot by strategically arranging the few remaining hairs do little to improve his appearance.</p><p>"I'll arrange for someone to get your papers, badge and gun. The cars have arrived as well."</p><p>He looks at the mess on his desk, taking a file from under a pile of paper.</p><p> </p><p>"tell me, have you ever heard of the ton-ton macouts?"</p><p> </p><p>[ooc : jennifer, you've heard the name, Simon : Something to do with Haiti]</p><p> </p><p>"Narcotics has asked for our help, they're investigating a burglary and possible homicide at the African museum in Tervuren last night. You'll be met by Mr. Lafayette at the scene. Remember, you're advisors at the moment."</p><p> </p><p>A few minutes later, armed with gun, badge, and a hardcopy file, you're on your way to the scene of the crime. </p><p> </p><p>[you've been given a citroen evasion (think big monovolume), wich one of you is driving? Also, surf for info on the ton-ton macouts, have fun]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="DrZombie, post: 1403807, member: 15640"] Friday 05-mar-04, 07:00 You awake from a deep sleep by the sharp voice of your alarm-clock. Morning television is apparently unknown here, they just show some reruns of yesterday evening-news. Thank god for BBC. Some breakfast and a shower later you feel like a new person. At about a quarter to eight your buzzer indicates someone is at the door. "Iet is aai. It ies taaim", unmistakably Sergio. Apparently he pressed two buzzers, because he seems to be talking to two persons at the same time, overtaxing his vocabulary. This time you're not the only passenger in the car : someone else got in, a future colleague? [ooc : feel free to introduce yourselves] You arrive in Brussels at the europarlaiment. A new, imposing building in a sterile corporate area. The place is wellpatrolled by the police, keeping vagrants and beggars away. Wageslaves in their suits walk around in a hurry, like so much scurrying ants. Sergio parks the car in the underground carpark, and guides you to an office at the fifth floor. "Come in" a polite voice says after your tentative knock. Parts of a design desk are visible under a clutter of hardcopy files, and the air is a bit hazy, testimony to mr. Vanderschots denial that smoking is dangerous to your health, and to the non-importance of all the non-smoking signs you've seen in this building. "Aaah, miss Archer, mr Coville, welcome in Brussels." The man is built like a brick, with big hands that envelop yours as he gives you a firm handshake. The pockmarked face and the pathetic attempt at hiding an ever-increasing bald spot by strategically arranging the few remaining hairs do little to improve his appearance. "I'll arrange for someone to get your papers, badge and gun. The cars have arrived as well." He looks at the mess on his desk, taking a file from under a pile of paper. "tell me, have you ever heard of the ton-ton macouts?" [ooc : jennifer, you've heard the name, Simon : Something to do with Haiti] "Narcotics has asked for our help, they're investigating a burglary and possible homicide at the African museum in Tervuren last night. You'll be met by Mr. Lafayette at the scene. Remember, you're advisors at the moment." A few minutes later, armed with gun, badge, and a hardcopy file, you're on your way to the scene of the crime. [you've been given a citroen evasion (think big monovolume), wich one of you is driving? Also, surf for info on the ton-ton macouts, have fun] [/QUOTE]
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