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F r a n c o

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About F r a n c o

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  • Birthday 11/16/1998

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  1. F r a n c o

    Robert Shaw

    wtf sorrentino
  2. leaking admin chat i see
  3. F r a n c o

    Argon elevated to XA

  4. F r a n c o

    Content Stealing

    they were the original ones to copy it - i posted that out of request with given materials. Couldn't be fucked to ask if its theirs or not.
  5. F r a n c o

    Debating if I want to stay or not. (Sorry for being a dick)

    Shoot me a message on steam - fankk.
  6. F r a n c o

    Patrick Stevenson PK Appeal

    TL;DR is after traumatic lung injury, even after its 'fully healed', your lung was not at peak performance for a significant period of time, and itll take a bit for your body to readjust to the full flow of oxygen. It takes less effort to become winded, less effort to feel out of breath or to feel pain in the chest. for me its been over a year and im still feeling the effects of my lung. It can obviously vary, but generally stevenson will be feeling this for, minimum, a few months.
  7. F r a n c o


    Best of luck with class!
  8. F r a n c o


    no it doesnt
  9. F r a n c o

    Lachlan Dunn, One-Man Chain-gang

  10. F r a n c o


    literally go away
  11. F r a n c o

    Federal PX

    Name: Sorrentino, Franco E. Rank: W-3 Item(s) requested: Lumber Culinary Carving Set 80 Piece 3x Spineless Notepad(s) [100 Pages] 5x 2x4 Wooden Planks
  12. F r a n c o

    Bently's Bandicoots

    garrysmod rp where we play as mobile infantry use made up guns and titanfall guns and FEAR2 models and half life 2 npcs WE WORK WITH WHAT WE GET, BUDDY BOY BUCKO PAL
  13. F r a n c o

    Bently's Bandicoots

    The troops had already gotten their kits together before the call. Everyone knows when they've got a drop incoming. The atmosphere changes. Everyone in the CiC is rushing. Commotion. It's just down to whos selected for the operation. The bulk of the platoon was settled in the barracks, shooting the shit, writing letters for loved ones, or playing their playstation on the mounted projector. Relaxation, sure. But it was tense. Like I said, we knew it was coming. After about an hour of everyone first catching wind, the ships intercomm crackled to life. "Recruit D. Harris, Technical Sergeant C. Scott, Sergeant M. Ll-..Llewellyn, Warrant Officer F. Sorrentino. Report to the CiC. Mission briefing". And that was it. Three of those called were present in the barracks at the time. Harris was being inducted at his bunk - Daby and Asahi were telling him where to find his 'chit for his issued blanket'. With the Master Sergeant, of course. That'd be the ninth recruit walking into Tops office this week asking for that damned chit. Sorrentino was settled with Stevenson and Squires, watching a handful of enlisted on the playstation. Nothing exceptional to report on that front, other than Stokes sucks at shooters. Ironic. Sergeant Llewellyn wasn't around the Barracks. She was in the bar, making use of their elevated drink unit whilst discussing platoon affairs with Corporal Cutter. She was eager about the call. I recall a loud, and almost indiscernible "Hell yeah" echoing through the corridor leading to the CiC. Captain Bently awaited them topside. The four troopers were already in their full kits, and as such their superior sent them on their way. "No time, I'll brief you on the way down here, from control. Move it!" BIGSKY would be their pilot for the evening. BIGSKY was the pilot of one of two Skyranger VTOLs at the platoons disposal. Chipper fellow, got along with the infantry well. The four strapped themselves in, two on either side of the cabin, exchanging glances as BIGSKY went over final pre-flight checks. Harris piped out first. "This is my first combat drop. I'm nervous, guys.". To this day no one knows why Harris was selected for this. Greenest of the green on a fairly high-stakes op'. "Donny fucken worry, ye'll be righ'okay." "Just stick with Scott, he'll keep you squared away". A sharp nod followed from Scott. "Combat life-saver and stray dog handler. Thas' me. Just try not to piss on me or somethin', yeah buddy?". Harris gave a snicker as their long-range sparked up. "Omega 1-1, Control." "I guess we're Omega today." "Information is being passed down the grape vine now. Your objective is a high ranking officer within the ADVENTs Marshall Police Corps. A Major, designated Tango-Sierra-Two-Two-Niner-Five. Codename, 'Overseer'. Intel suggests he's leading a training expedition under the streets of New Clemency. Yes, in the dilapidated tram system. Your objective is to neautralize Overseer, and any hostile ground forces. It's essential that not only he is killed, but the body cannot be retrieved. Burn it, blow it up, whatever. But once he's dead, and the AO is secure, the corpse needs to be gone. Oh-Dark-Thirty, Troopers. We want this done before sunrise, Omega. Questions?" Silence rang true until Control piped up a response. "Great. You'll be landing a klick out of Clemency, at a farm house long since abandoned. They've got a sewer grate along the highway two hundred yards EAST down the road. Find it, get it open. If our maps are right, in the sewer system as you approach Clemency, there'll be an emergency door you can get through. Control, out". They hadn't even realised they were in the air yet. The rest of the ride was quiet. The troops going over their kits, getting amped for what was to come. The only real sound was the patter of rain against the skyranger, and the hum of its duel-engines. Operation Overseer.