"We don't do custom firearms here, I'm afraid. Only melee weapons. You may be able to squeeze something out of the Firesmith, though."
English
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Gregori reaches out to pick up the heavy round. He pockets it quietly. [i]It was a big bullet. The kind you used to apply industrial-grade ventilation to somebody particularly offensive.[/i] "Tell me about the Firesmith. Where can I find him?" the cyborg asks curiously, his tone lined with interest.
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"It ain't a person; it's a net-shop. Search for it on your Pad and them make your weapon there. I'm not entirely sure they'll make a weapon for that kind of round, though. But you can try." ((The Firesmith thread is in the Group))
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(( I applied for the Group. Unfortunately, I don't seem to have access from my mobile device. Does an administrator have to accept my application? )) Markov gives a single nod and then steps back out into the night. He lifts his arm and touches a finger to the scratched surface of his Tac-Pad, performing a search for Firesmith.
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((No, you should be able to have instant access... Are you using the app or the website))
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(( Found it. ))
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((Nice.))
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(( The app. I'm not as familiar with it as I'd like to be. ))