Post by The Gene Genie on Sept 28, 2007 18:14:02 GMT
That's fine luvveh just don't keep bringin' yourself down, you're a great RPer, I always look forward to your replies! Don't stress it either, if you've got homework you don't have to reply at all, no pressure whatsoever. I wouldn't want to stop you from doing homework. Thanks for taking the time to reply though luvveh =]
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Swinging himself into the driver's seat of the Cortina, Gene span the key into the slot with one hand and pressed a red button next to the 8-track player with the other. Booming out of the speaker on the dashboard came the sound of Free singing about a Wishing Well.
That's more like it.
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Speeding up to the front door of the Railway Arms, Gene handbrake-span the unashamedly bronze Cortina on the cobbled road.
Well there's no plod cars around, so he hadn't hitched a lift.
Could've ran, he's agile enough to, not surprising considering the way he sprinted miles ahead of me while chasing Kim Trent beside the canal before.
Shuffling his shoulders into a comfortable position in the driver's seat, Gene sighed heavily.
After a few moments of reminiscing on what he might storm in the Railway Arms to find.
Sam holding Nelson hostage? Sam hanging from the ceiling? Chris shot dead by Sam?
Gene knew his DI was in a volatile state, but he'd never come across him like this before.
But I'm his DCI, he would listen to me quicker than he would listen to the shit on his bog paper.
Gene hauled himself out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He shrugged his tan-shaded jacket off his shoulders and draped it over his arm. Striding towards the familiarly gloomy front doorstep, Gene was both angry and fearful.
Here we go then, now or never.
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Hope I've done alreet =]
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Swinging himself into the driver's seat of the Cortina, Gene span the key into the slot with one hand and pressed a red button next to the 8-track player with the other. Booming out of the speaker on the dashboard came the sound of Free singing about a Wishing Well.
That's more like it.
-
Speeding up to the front door of the Railway Arms, Gene handbrake-span the unashamedly bronze Cortina on the cobbled road.
Well there's no plod cars around, so he hadn't hitched a lift.
Could've ran, he's agile enough to, not surprising considering the way he sprinted miles ahead of me while chasing Kim Trent beside the canal before.
Shuffling his shoulders into a comfortable position in the driver's seat, Gene sighed heavily.
After a few moments of reminiscing on what he might storm in the Railway Arms to find.
Sam holding Nelson hostage? Sam hanging from the ceiling? Chris shot dead by Sam?
Gene knew his DI was in a volatile state, but he'd never come across him like this before.
But I'm his DCI, he would listen to me quicker than he would listen to the shit on his bog paper.
Gene hauled himself out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He shrugged his tan-shaded jacket off his shoulders and draped it over his arm. Striding towards the familiarly gloomy front doorstep, Gene was both angry and fearful.
Here we go then, now or never.
-
Hope I've done alreet =]