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Post by The Karcolith on Nov 7, 2014 12:49:32 GMT -5
Closing the last crate, Rurik nailed the lid shut and hefted the heavy crate with an exerted grunt, carrying it to the small rickety tracks that had been laid. He eased the crate down onto an old cart, wiggling into place before standing to his full height and let out an exhausted sigh. Since leaving the zone he'd been contracted to move guns and ammunition into the zone, the bunker he was using had been an old smuggling tunnel for the bandits, but he now stayed there, disguised as a park ranger for the wildlife preserve. Since leaving he'd been in contact with only a few of the high ranking members of Duty, but those contacts had faded in the five years that he'd been on the outside. His memory of leading Duty also faded and his former comrades. Finding his life was a dull series of repetitious patterns hunting for food once a week, gathering water, brewing vodka and once a month driving out in his old ZiL and picking up and preparing the next delivery of weapons.
Checking the shipment was intact and ready to go he took up the old control panel and pressed the button sending the motorised cart away into the zone. Some hours later the cart returned, and the usual coded piece of paper was there, entering the code into his laptop, the standard figure for his services was transferred to his account. Sitting back and relaxing with an old Soviet record he smiled, moving the weapons in was easy, he simply disguised the gear as supplies for his cover as a pasrk ranger and no one questioned it. The record was just reaching the old Soviet national anthem as he shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
"Rurik!" Voronin shouted, in his usual impatient tone.
"Yes sir!" He replied standing at attention as the general marched in.
"At ease colonel, I have intel that a squad of Bandits have infiltrated Rostok and are planning on attacking the bar, I'll need you and Sargent Myrvang to hunt them down, Barkeep has already spotted them but there isn't any experienced stalkers to assist him, I want you to flush them out and Myrvang will pick off any that flee." The general explained," "Other members will assist if you need it."
"I'll set out as soon as Sigbrand arrives back at base." Rurik replied.
"He's already back, I sent out the order to him this morning, he was deep within Red Forest hunting down a Monolith assault party."
"Well I'll move out at once sir." Rurik said, taking up his PKM, checking it over he strode for the bar, catching glimpse of Sigbrand crouching motionless, giving a small wave to which Rurik acknowledged he made his way into the bar.
As he went down the stairs the usual friendly greeting was quiet as the man who normally checked weapons at the door nodded silently and ducked out of view, striding casually to the bar he leant down and wait until the Barkeep strolled over, keeping as casual as he usually was and with a quick eye movement directed the massive stalker's attention to ta group that was sitting and standing around one of the makeshift tables, quietly whispering.
With a nod from Rurik Barkeep went off into the backroom and and he went to a part of the bar and leaned against the wall, watching the bandits as he waited for barkeeps signal.
Moments later the lights went down and the bar was plunged into darkness and a disarray of confused cries fromt he wanted group. Turning the night vision on his suits helmet on, he raised the machine gun and fired at the group several rounds tearing a sizable hole in one of the bandits and hitting another he saw two sprint for the exit but focused on the remaining wounded, mowing them down without mercy. Two loud shots rang out throughout the area and silence followed.
Jolting awake with the shots still echoing in his ears, Rurik sat up the record was repeating on a loop. Sitting up and swinging his legs around he stood and walked to the record player, lifting the needle and switching sides of the record. Thinking back to the dream he felt a pang of nostalgia of his time in the zone. Making his way up the stairs of his bunker he squeezed through the crates, taking up a small, battered ammunition tin and taking it back to his living quarters. Opening the box were several mementos from his time in the zone, including his old PDA. Pressing the power button he found the device was flat from years of sitting idly.
Searching through another box by one of the beds he found a cord to charge the device. Plugging it in the screen slowly turned on the device was still linked to the satellite, clicking on the contact list he saw several names that looked familiar but even in the five years he struggled to recall some of the names, others he could recall instantly sparking another pang of nostalgia, selecting a handful of familiar ones he sent out a message.
Rereading the message several times, he eventually pressed send, wondering if anyone would even receive the message, let alone reply or take him up on his offer...
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Nov 7, 2014 15:15:10 GMT -5
Five years. It didn't seem much on paper, but to Blank it felt like a decade. Five years since she had left the Zone. She raised her battered tin mug and blew on her coffee, letting its warmth sink through her sleeves and into her cold palms. Frost was already beginning to settle on the windows of her Toyota camper van, and the cold was creeping in despite the makeshift isolation and curtains. She glanced at her camping stove and considered letting it burn for a few minutes, just to take some of the edge off the creeping cold. But she shook her head and looked back into the dark depths of her coffee. She had only two canisters left and couldn't afford to waste gas on heating.
She sighed and looked up from her mug. The rear windshield was blurred by frost and condensation, like tear-stained eyes, but she could still see the distant lights of the city shimmer. With a mechanical gesture she raised her mug and took a sip, a shiver running down her spine as the hot coffee splashed into her stomach. For a moment the cold retreated, and Blank continued drinking until her mug was drained. She set the tin vessel down on a small wooden shelf and shuffled around on her mattress, wriggling into her sleeping bag and wrapping her usual cocoon of blankets and clothes around herself. She shifted and bumped her head into some netting, which bulged with clothes and various nick nacks, some of which cascaded onto her.
"Shit" she swore before reluctantly extracting her arms from her cocoon. What now lay on her lap was a bunch of junk: crumpled photos, cut-outs from magazines, a box of paperclips... and her PDA.
Blank blinked. The small rectangular object seemed to be waiting for her to pick it up. How long had it been in that pile of junk? How had she even kept it despite all her years spent in a psychiatric hospital? She couldn't say, it was all a blur. She picked it up gingerly, feeling its familiar wait in her hand, its chafed plastic exterior. She turned it around and looked at the dark screen, with its myriad scratches drawing maps all over the plastic surface. The call and end call buttons had been so pressed that their symbols were gone, leaving only white plastic in their stead. A faded "Samsung" logo was still printed beneath the buttons.
Memories...the PDA's annoying little beep echoed in her mind, and a dozen voice messages, scratched up by unreliable satellite networks, came pouring back. She remembered those days of gloom and adventure spent in the Zone. Days of danger, freedom and true friendship.
All gone now. All she had now was her van, her medication, her PDA and her memories. Sadness seeped into her soul and her heart ached. With a trembling hand she went for the power button, confident that the PDA's battery would long be dead. But as she pressed down the screen flickered and a loading screen appeared. A second later the PDA's familiar menu appeared. She hesitantly flicked through the menus and loaded the map. It took a few minutes for the device to locate her, but it succeeded, pin-pointing her location at an abandoned construction site (that the locals used as a dumping ground) outside Zhytomir. She went through a few more menus, discovering a back log of forgotten messages and many, many contacts whose names she remembered.
And as she dug through this treasure trove, her PDA vibrated and beeped that old familiar beep that had punctuated her life as a stalker. A message? How was that even possible? Maybe she had received a five year old call from someone. She tapped the message icon and her eyes widened.
"If you're reading this, this is former Colonel Rurik, I'm inviting any former stalkers should you so wish, to these coordinates."
And with the message were geographical coordinates. Blank loaded them into her PDA's map, and after a few minutes it brought up a satellite image of a forested area in Northern Ukraine. Blank zoomed out and her mouth fell open in astonishment. The coordinates were only a few kilometers from the Zone!
Blank checked the date of the message again and saw it had been sent only a few hours before. She shook her head in disbelief. How could the past come back this way? It couldn't be real. Someone must be playing a trick on her or something.
But Rurik...she remembered that name. A Duty guy if she remembered correctly. She looked up and around at the dismal interior of her camper van. She had nothing here or anywhere else. Why not go there and see if it was true? She could arrive in the Chernobyl area in a few hours if she left now. Her tank was full and driving would keep her warmer than sleep.
And so Blank emerged from her cocoon, throwing the blankets aside. She put on her telogreika and crawled into the driver seat. As she sat down the fabric squeaked beneath her. She blew on her hands and rubbed them together, infusing some heat into her numb joints and taut skin. She turned the keys in the ignition, and the old Toyota rumbled to life, its headlights flooding the abandoned construction site with their pissy yellow glow. The Toyota drove slowly out of the construction site and headed onto the road. Within thirty minutes Blank was leaving Zhytomir and heading North.
That morning Adder returned from her latest consultation, a bag of groceries in each hand and her iPod's ear buds churning soft alt-rock into her ears. She shut the door of her Renault Twingo with a swing of her hip and began to walk up the gravelled path to her bungalow. The curtains of the living room window parted, revealing the rose-cheeked face of a toddler, who smiled brightly when he saw her. Adder returned the smile and warmth filled her chest. Despite the weight of the shopping bags she quickly made her way to the front door and rang the doorbell.
Soon afterwards the door was opened by a small round lady, dark hair gathered into a greying bun atop her head.
"Encore merci, Marie" said Adder in French where only the shadow of an accent was present. "All those tests the parapsychology department keeps running take up so much time, then there's the MRIs, the blood samples..."
Marie smiled, unphased by Adder's inhuman eyes. "Oh it's quite all right, Nadya. I can never get enough of your little devil!"
As if summoned by some ancient spell, the apple of Nadya's eye burst from the living room door and thundered down the hallway, a high-pitched roar issuing from his mouth, in which a few gaps were visible courtesy of teething. The tiny stampede slammed into Nadya's legs and wrapped his arms around her knees with a final growl.
"Well what animal did you have for breakfast?" Said Adder, abandoning her shopping and picking up the boy. "A tiger?"
"No, I'm a dinosaur!" Said the boy with utmost seriousness. "I'm a velocirapper."
Adder smiled and laughed. "I'll take note. You know how bad mummy's memory is sometimes."
Alexei. Her son. Even five years afterwards Adder still marvelled at it. In her twenties she had never even considered the possibility of bearing children, and life in the Zone had made that possibility even more remote. It had been one of the reasons she had left the Zone.
With her son in her arms and Marie following behind her, Adder went into the kitchen. She put her son down and, with help from Marie, began putting the shopping away. Alexei babbled happily about dinosaurs, "velocirappers" and "tyranocerus rex". It seemed hard to believe Adder and her son were both mutants living in a gated community. A gated community owned and run by the CNRS. Five years had gone by since Adder had left the Zone, five years since Maginot had made arrangements to transport his lover and unborn son out of the Zone and back to his home country.
Five years since Maginot had died.
In those five years Adder had become the local CNRS institute's object of study. Every week she had to pass a battery of tests, but it was a good deal. She had a proper home, good income and a safe life. She didn't miss the Zone. She missed Maginot and still felt a pang of pain and sadness whenever she thought of him, but the Zone she did not miss.
With the groceries put away, Marie took Alexei outside to play in the garden while Adder did some of the paperwork associated with her life and work as a subject of scientific experimentation. With the faint shouts of Alexei coming from the garden, she settled down on the sofa and went through the different papers. A questionnaire from the Parapsychology Institute, results from previous tests and experiments... Nadya yawned and the image of a hot cup of tea flitted through her mind. She placed the papers on the living room table and went for the kitchen, but as she did so something caught her eye.
It was a weathered cigar box made of wood. It sat atop a wall shelf alongside various forgettable novels and ornaments. Her tea forgotten, Adder went to the shelf and picked up the box. Dust drifted off it and onto the tiled floor. Without a word Adder returned to the sofa and opened the box. The box didn't contain much, but it was enough to get Adder's memories running. A worn patch representing a green wolf, empty bullet casings, some photographs... Adder picked out the wolf patch and couldn't help but remember those days spent at the Army Warehouses with Maginot, and the day they had sewn those patches onto their stalker suits. She set the patch down and picked up a cartridge, recognising it as the ammunition she once used for her Vintorez. She remembered the day she had found that gun, deep in the storm drains beneath Limansk. A battle had raged in the streets above, and a chase had almost come to an end in the tunnels below. She remembered a young man and his brother, a brother who died beneath Limansk. His name was Harmund, and his younger brother was Sigbrand. She also remembered Rurik, the hulking leader of the group with his machine gun and heavy exoskeleton.
She closed her eyes.
Thunder rumbled in the grey skies above. In the decaying concrete circle of an abandoned stadium, Maginot knelt by a dying man and Adder stood aloof.
"Now, I don't have any medical expertise, but this guy seems pretty fucked." She said, her gaze sliding over the man's dying body. A dark stain was visible at lung level, and blood was running from the man's lips.
"Looks like his lungs got it" said Maginot, frowning at the injuries, but Adder wasn't listening. Something else was forcing its way into her mind, a voice laced with promise and danger irresistible.
My child, you have made it here, into my embrace. You must do a final favour...kill those heretics, then kill that mercenary fool and that bandit. Your brothers and sisters will be grateful for such a deed.
The Monolith.
Adder's eyes snapped open, the deep voice of the Monolith still echoeing in the depths of her mind. That voice... she could never forget that voice. Sometimes she dreamt of it and of Seth's death. She shook her head, pushing the thoughts and images aside. Water under the bridge it was. Her life had changed for the better.
She put the cartridge back in the box, and as she did so she saw her old PDA. She picked it up and examined it. Little had changed in the small object's appearance. Its olive green casing still bore the scratches and scuffs it had earned in the Zone, and the call button had gone missing years ago, replaced by a cruder version cut into shape with a knife. The screen was surprisingly intact.
"This bloody thing" muttered Adder. Did it even work still? She pressed the power button and raised an eyebrow when her PDA came on. Soon she found herself browsing the familiar layout, flicking between different applications. Her Zone contacts were still in there, probably dead or in some other life now...
Her PDA beeped and Adder started. She recognised that beep all too well. It was the sound of an incoming message, but who would contact her on this old piece of crap? Her heart began to beat faster as she checked her messages.
"Wow" she said disbelievingly. The sender was Rurik.
The message was short and to the point, exactly what Adder had come to expect from Rurik - the man had never been much for words anyway – but it left her in a state of inner conflict. A quick check of the coordinates on her laptop revealed them to be very close to the Zone, and Adder simply had no desire to go back there. That life was over. She was a mother now, with a decent life and a comfortable home.
And yet... surely Rurik wouldn't drag his old friends back into the Zone? Surely he would be too old to continue fighting in Duty's ranks. Maybe the old soldier had left the Zone and settled down nearby...
But no. She wouldn't go. She had experienced horrors unlike any other in the Zone, witnessed terrible death and suffering. The Zone was also where Maginot lay, and the thought of being so close to such a place filled her with dread and sorrow. Besides, Maginot wouldn't want her to go back. He had sacrificed himself so she would be safe.
But still...Rurik was an old friend, and a good one. Even after Adder had joined Freedom she had stayed on friendly terms with the bear of a man. There probably wasn't any harm in a little reunion. She could just book a plane ticket, rent a car, drop by Rurik's place and have a laugh, maybe drink some good old Cossacks vodka and eat "tourist's delight".
That seemed like a good plan. But what about Alexei? Adder looked towards the garden window and saw her son playing on the swings. Marie wouldn't have any objections to baby-sitting Alexei for a few days, but...
It's only a few days, Adder. Alexei is safe here.
Adder set her PDA down and put her laptop on her lap. She opened Firefox and began searching for a plane ticket to the Ukraine.
Blank was the first to arrive at Rurik's hideout. The place was very well hidden, and she got lost trying to find the dirt track indicated on the map. The area around Chernobyl and Pripyat hadn't changed much. Helicopters flew overhead, and the distant silhouette of an observation plane could be spotted circling over the Zone. At one point Blank drove over a rise and was immediately greeted by the distant sight of the NPP's red and white cooling towers. She had stopped her van then and had sat in her seat staring for five or ten minutes.
There seemed to be a lot more troops stationed in the area too. On her way to Rurik's hideout Blank passed six mechanised columns, the sight of which sent chills down her spine. She wasn't a stalker any more, but the sight of a uniform still made her old fears stir. She also drove through many abandoned villages, villages she swore had been inhabited last time she came through here.
After an hour of driving up and down deserted roadways, Blank finally found the dirt road. It was a nondescript thing nestled between some trees. No wonder she had missed it earlier. An old wooden sign said "Chernobyl Nature Preserve – do not litter, do not camp, do not build fires."
The road was long, and the further Blank got, the more on edge she became. She half-expected a mutated boar to come charging out of the undergrowth, or to see a suspicious distortion in the air. Thankfully none of those things happened, and Blank eventually pulled up in front of an ancient bunker. She got out and closed the door behind her. The place seemed quiet enough. A large six-wheeled ZIL was parked nearby, its sides and wheels caked with mud. The bunker was only visible by its ventilation shafts and the entrance, which rose from the ground a few meters away.
Blank hesitated. Did she really belong here? She glanced down at her dirty sweat pants and telogreika, her worn sneakers. One of her sneakers had started losing its sole, and was held together with duct tape. She looked like a homeless vagrant. What would Rurik think?
With deliberate slowness she approached the door and raised her fist. After a moment's hesitation she banged on it.
Adder was torn between nostalgia and reluctance. Much like Blank had earlier, she had seen the NPP's chimneys in the distance. She had also passed several mechanised columns, some of which took up most of the road and forced her little Fiat into the muddy grass.
I shouldn't have come back she thought, but she kept on driving. She soon found the dirt track and drove onto it without slowing down. The track's bumps and potholes forced her to slow down, and Adder worried about the car rental bill should the Fiat's suspension give up the ghost. The Fiat experienced no such failures, however, and after driving through the dark forest in religious silence, Adder pulled up in an open space, next to a large six-wheeled truck and a battered-looking Toyota minivan.
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Post by blackpapermoon on Nov 7, 2014 19:09:45 GMT -5
It was late at night, as a young woman sat quietly at a desk going over log books and charts. The dim light of a small lamp was all that illuminated the dark cabin, as the sea slowly swayed the ship in a calm rocking motion. Tomorrow she would be in port with a large haul of tuna, then her crew would go on leave and she would be by herself again. Yeva gave out a tired sigh, as she sat up to stretch before picking up a white mug. She swirled what remained of her tea around for a few minutes before gulping it down, and closing her books. Taking a moment she picked up a picture frame from the corner of the desk, the photo was that of a young man in military garb his grayish eyes looking off into the distance, with the always over serious expression on his face. Yeva could feel the hotness of tears begin to well up in the corner of her eyes removing the back of the frame some smaller more worn pictures flutter out on to the desk. They were pictures of people and places of the zone, shuffling through them she looked for one particular photo. At last finding it she held it tentatively in her hand as she covered her mouth in the other and let hot drops roll down her face. It was a picture of herself with a tall yet slender man, with greasy white hair and the dark green of Freedom.
“Yuras,” she choked out now fully sobbing she let the photo fall back on to the desk with the others. It had been five years, and yet she still found herself crying herself to sleep some nights. With a sudden hiccup of a large sob the sudden realization dawned on her, she had forgotten how they sounded. Wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve, she then from a small drawer pulled out a decorative tin, in it she had even more mementos of her time in the zone. Patches of Duty and Freedom, her old detector, her brother’s black hat and her PDA.
“Does this thing even still work?” she asked as she picked up the old device she tried to power it on to no avail, “might need a charge.” Without much hesitation she hooked up the PDA to a charger and much to her delight the screen flashed back to life, with a message telling her that it was looking for satellites, after a few moments it was connected. Using the buttons on the device she looked through old messages finding an old voice message from her brother and played it.
The blond woman smiled; Vadik sent her that message just after receiving the rank of Lieutenant, he had been so excited just like a little boy. It was strange yet just hearing his voice made her feel warm like he was still there somewhere. She soon began to play other messages that she had received, including one from Yuras.
The female stalker left the safety of Rostok behind her, going out into the Wild Territories in search of her Freedom lover. He was waiting for them in their usual place, the under pass with the Electro anomalies. When she arrived he was smiling like a bandit with loot and hiding something behind his back.
“Hey boy, what was up with that message?” She asked smirking her hands on her hips.
“How bout a kiss first?” he remarked hopefully
“I guess I can concede that much,” she said with a slight chuckle as she approached and the two fell into a passionate kiss. As they broke away Ferret revealed a deep red flower with rich navy tips on each of its petals with a warm smile as he did so.
“Oh my god! Yuras it’s beautiful,” she exclaimed as she took hold of it.
“I knew you’d love it, I found it up north and thought of you.”
Yeva closed her eyes as she listen to the ghost of the past; reminiscing in the happier times in the zone, she refound her strength in that place but in return it had taken so much away from her. She wanted to hate the zone but she couldn’t it was her only connection to Yuras and her brother. Suddenly her PDA began to beep with that old and familiar sound, a message? Who would want to contact her from the zone, she was sure most stalkers didn’t care that much about the ones who left the zone. Tapping the message button she read the text.
"If you're reading this, this is former Colonel Rurik, I'm inviting any former stalkers should you so wish, to these coordinates."
Rurik of all people, she remembered the hulking man well, then again the old Colonel stood out in his massive exoskeleton. In truth she had been wanting to go back to the zone for some time to pay her respects and maybe move on in her life. Her crew was going on leave now that the season was over, it would be a few months before the next and her ship was going in for repairs. So what was a few days with old friends?
After a few days of settling things with her she ship and crew she packed up a few sets of clothes and other small items and set off. Renting a Range Rover in Sevastopol she drove to Kiev picking up a bottle of what was branded luxury vodka, some vatrushka and other pastries from a small bakery. Before going on to the old nature preserve, as she drove she did so in silence her knuckles white in anticipation. Why was she so nervous, all she was doing was visiting an old friend? Pulling up the dirt road she followed it to an old soviet era bunker, she noted that there were other vehicles parked nearby, parking up next to a Fiat she hesitated to leave her vehicle. Taking a deep breath, she pulled on her brother’s old skull cap and got out of the car. She still carried the scent of the sea on her as her boots crunched over the gravel and dirt and coming to the door of the the bunker she gently tapped on the metal door with her fists.
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Camelith
Lurker
Three Camel Moon
Posts: 12
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Post by Camelith on Nov 8, 2014 4:40:04 GMT -5
Sigbrand sat on a hard concrete bench, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a half-eaten sandwich resting on the bench beside him. It was sunset at this fuel station somewhere north of Chisenau, and Sigbrand was musing over where he should spend the night. A hotel was out of the question, he was nearly out of cash and food and gas were more important than a bed for the night. Beds were often too soft for Sigbrand, anyway. After he had returned to Oslo, he spent most nights sleeping on the floor. His years in the Zone, and his time in central Asia with the Army, had made the ground the most comfortable place for him to sleep. Sigbrand often found himself thinking of the Zone, and of the comrades he had left behind. It had been six years since he had lost an entire squad on what should have been a routine hunt in the Red Forest. Six years since he had resigned his rank and gone to wander the northern reaches. And it had been five years since Sigbrand had stumbled upon a portion of flattened fence near the Belarusian border, and walked out of the Zone. Sigbrand wandered back to Norway after that, hitchhiking and sneaking aboard freight trains until he finally reached Oslo. He had sold his Mama's Beads artifact to a collector in St. Petersburg for enough to buy him a new identity and a few months rent in a small flat once he reached his hometown. He had tried looking for work, but the daily hustle and bustle of civilian life felt like it degraded his mind worse than any psy-emission ever had. It wasn't long before his money began to run out, and he enlisted in the armed forces. Although slightly less frantic than life in the Zone, Sigbrand had enjoyed most of his time in the military. The return to regiment and routine was welcome. NATO involvement in central Asia had given him the opportunity to experience terrain completely foreign to him. Deserts, steppes and vast burnt-brown mountains altogether different from the mountains of Norway. He quickly learned, however, that combat was quite different when everyone in the country wasn't armed to the teeth. Sigbrand had always disliked killing other humans, and killing goat herders armed with rusty AKs disgusted him. His assignments consistently became more and more convoluted, and their results became more and more intangible. A cave secured one day, was occupied again the next. Civilian casualties rose, and NATO forces continuously demonstrated an inability to adapt to their situation. Sigbrand became more and more dissatisfied, and eventually he deserted. He bought an old Minsk motorcycle in a village not to far from the NATO base and headed west, back towards Europe. That had been a year ago. Since then he had been wandering. Rambling across the Levant, North Africa, and the Balkans, slowly burning through what was left of his money. Going back to Norway was impossible now, as his flat in Oslo contained a number of mementos from his years in the Zone, including his old suit and rifle, which the Norwegian government would have seized once news of his desertion reached the capitol. He hazarded a guess that they wouldn't mind seizing him for questioning, either. The only items from his days as a stalker he had left were his Duty patch and dog tags, a photograph of himself and the stalkers he and his brother had met when they first entered the zone, his customized SIG P226, and his PDA. Sigbrand always wore his Duty tags, and had stitched the patch onto his rucksack. The PDA was powered by the Flash artifact battery from a Gauss Rifle magazine, a special gift from the scientists at Yantar. He kept it on, stored safely away within his rucksack. His pistol was kept wrapped in an oil cloth, stored in a small wooden lock-box inside one of the pannier bags on his Minsk. Sigbrand kept the photo in the inside pocket of his jacket. It was the only photo he had of his time in the Zone, and the only photo he had of his brother, Harmund. He took the photo out of his pocket, and squinted at it in the failing light. There was himself and Harmund. His brother's massive build and long ponytail easily distinguishing him from the others. His remains still rested under the boughs of that old oak on the outskirts of Limansk. Sigbrand wore his own hair long, and in a ponytail, in tribute to him. Between Sigbrand and his brother was Victor. Victor was one of the few people Sigbrand had considered a friend in the Zone, but he had been killed barely a year after Harmund. The next two in the line were Maginot and Adder. Sigbrand had respected Maginot, even after he had become the leader of Freedom. He respected Adder, as well, even though he had unknowingly been sent by General Voronin to assassinate her. Sigbrand also vividly remembered his brief time under the influence of the Monolith, when he captured Adder in the North and brought her all the way to the Pripyat stadium before regaining his senses. He had heard no news of Adder or Maginot during his self-exile in the North, and had no idea if they were alive or dead. The last figure in the picture was the truly gargantuan, exoskeleton-clad, figure of then Lieutenant-Colonel Rurik, General Voronin's right-hand-man and one of the most formidable individuals in the Zone. Rurik had been Sigbrand's commanding officer in countless missions, and it was Rurik that Sigbrand had turned over his Lieutenant's insignia to before leaving for the North. Sigbrand was still busy reminiscing when he heard a noise from his rucksack. A beep. A beep he had not heard for many years. Sigbrand slipped the picture back into his pocket, and slowly opened his rucksack. The beep sounded again, there was no mistaking it. Sticking a hand inside the bag, he groped around until he felt the familiar hard plastic rectangle. The PDA's screen was lit up, a window in the middle exclaiming that he had received a message. Nobody outside of the Zone could possibly have possessed the identification number required to send a message to his device, and the origin of the message was unmistakably from Rurik's PDA. The coordinates included in the message corresponded to a point somewhere near the edge of the Zone, almost 700 kilometers from him. Has Rurik left the Zone as well? Sigbrand thought. He knew there was only one way to find out. If I leave now, I can be there by tomorrow morning.Sigbrand put the PDA back into his rucksack, climbed onto his Minsk, and kicked the engine into life. He felt something in his gut as he drove along the dark highway, something he had not felt in a long time. Was it excitement? Sigbrand arrived at the coordinates by mid-afternoon, and was surprised to see an assortment of other vehicles present. A large six-wheeled truck, a disheveled camper-van and a Range Rover with rental tags would normally made him suspect an ambush, but the small Fiat parked alongside them made that seem unlikely. Who would steal Rurik's PDA to lure in former stalkers anyway? That would involve killing Rurik, a feat most of the Zone considered impossible. Behind the row of parked vehicles was the small above-ground opening to a bunker, not unlike the one inhabited by Sidorovich in the Cordon. The door to the bunker was closed, and nobody appeared to be in the vicinity, so Sigbrand raised his arm and knocked.
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Post by The Karcolith on Nov 9, 2014 12:54:11 GMT -5
Putting the old device aside, letting it charge more he went looked at the rest of his stuff from his time in the zone, he'd left the exoskeleton and his weapons behind, even the trusty old PKM he'd had so long. He wondered weather anyone had seen the message or would even reply, much less actually turn up. Taking up the old box with the other mementos he sorted through them taking out his Duty patch. Faded and tattered he remember the time he'd been rewarded it upon joining the militant faction. Carefully placing it down continued looking through the gear he'd taken with him, a heavy, wrapped package lay at the bottom of the box. Removing the parcel he laid it down and sat to examine it closer.
Cutting the knot that was tightened into a ball he took out the contents, segments from a type of armour he'd found while he and the group had been in the tunnels underneath Limansk when the Monolith had attacked one of the Mercenaries HQs. The man had been shot already and his armour intrigued Rurik, though no one in Rostok or Yantar could ever figure out how it worked. Turning over the pieces he'd scavenged looked them over again, like he had countless times, they'd figured they part of some advanced exoskeleton, but other than that nothing. Laying the complex piece aside he went back to his stores ad retrieved a basic meal and a bottle of his home brewed vodka, it wasn't the pleasant drink but it was easy to brew and helped wash down the basic meal. Gnawing away at one tough piece of meat he washed it down with gulp of vodka.
Once the meal was finished he cleaned up and lay down again, the day was quietly coming to an end. Closing his eyes he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
A light taping roused Rurik, he wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep but he seldom got visitors. Swinging his legs off of the bed he stood and made his way up the stairs to the entrance where the knocking was a lot clearer. Turning the locking mechanism he pulled the door back, light folding in in a bright wave, a small silhouette stood in the light. As his eyes adjusted he saw the visitor was a small shabbily dressed woman. At first he didn't recognise her but something about her was familiar all the same.
"I take it you got the message?" He asked, "You have me at a disadvantage stranger, you look familiar but I can't seem to place your name. But please, come in."
Stepping aside as the first visitor introduced herself as Blank, shutting the door he noted with more detail how shabby her clothes were. But didn't comment, he probably had some spare gear he'd eventually have sent into the zone, but figured a good pair of boots and a fresh set of clothes wouldn't be missed.
"If you'd like I have gear I was going to send into the zone soon, some of it might fit you, come on this way." Leading into the makeshift store room he open one of the crates and crates and took out several clothing items.
"I'll leave you to try these on undisturbed, are you hungry?"
Blank's enthusiastic nodded was all the indication he needed, moving out of the room he went done the stairs to prepare some food, deciding to serve some of the better items he'd purchased on his last visit he laid out a simple feast for his guest. Taking a bottle vodka he grabbed a couple of glasses and placed them down, looking to the stairs Blank emerged with new clothes on and her old gear in a neat bundle.
"Put it wherever you like, come eat." He offered gesturing to the spread he'd laid out.
Pouring out a measure of vodka into each glass and passed on to Blank.
"It's not the best quality, but it helps wash a meal down. To the zone!" He said, holding up his glass and clinking it with Blanks, they both downed the drink and began on the meal, Rurik was amazed at how much Blank ate for a woman of such small stature.
After retrieving a second helping Rurik laid out the food, as he was doing so he heard another knock at the door, it had nearly been an hour since Blank's arrival, they'd barely talked during the meal between drinking and drinking.
"Would you excuse me, it would seem we have another guest. But by all means, help yourself."
Standing he made his way up the stairs again, opening the door a face that was slightly more familiar, Verona. He remembered her brother having met him before he'd joined the faction, he'd occasionally worked with the young man on certain assignments and had recommended him for several others that required skilled soldiers. So naturally the two would occasionally catch up and as such Rurik would sometimes be present.
"Verona. It's good to see after all these years." He said, "I was saddened to hear about your brother, he was a good man and a good soldier. Sadly life in the zone is perilous, but please come in."
Leading her down to the living area to where Blank was still contently feeding her face. She looked up just along enough to see who it was than turn her attention back to the table.
"Verona, this is Blank, and vice versa. Are you hungry?" Rurik said, "I have plenty of food in stock so help yourself."
Some hours later, came a third knocking. Blank was lazing in an arm chair chatting idly with Verona.
Raising to his feet, he made his way up the stairs opening the door, this time the face was unmistakeable.
"Sigbrand!" Rurik said shaking the man's hand and gesturing for him to come in. "It's a long time friend, how have you been?"
Leading him down the stairs into the living area, introducing the former Dutier he offered the same hospitably to him as he had to the others. Before sitting to chat.
Sometime later another knock came, it was so quiet Rurik didn't hear it first, making his way up the stairs again he opened the door, surprised to see the fourth guest.
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Nov 9, 2014 13:42:06 GMT -5
Blank hadn't expected such a warm welcome, especially not from a former Dutier. Suspicion still remained over her origins, after all... But Blank wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and she gratefully accepted Rurik's offers. Rurik's bunker was rather nice despite being an abandoned military installation. Sure it had that odd musty smell Blank associated with old army surplus shops, but it looked like a good place to live in. To her surprise, the hulking Dutier offered her some new clothing. She rapidly changed into a new pair of jeans, boots and an old army jacket. When she emerged from the other room, Rurik offered her the gift of all gifts: warm food. At the sight of the tinned food Blank's lips trembled and her eyes went wide. Anyone could see she was emaciated. What muscle she had gained in the Zone had been burned away by prolonged periods of hunger, leaving only skin and bone.
"Th-thanks!" She mumbled, sitting down at the table. "But I'm not allowed to drink alcohol..."
Blank was about to add "it's not good for my condition", but decided to keep it to herself. Mentioning her mental illness tended to make people wary, and she didn't want to spoil Rurik's hospitality. Instead she brought the glass to her lips and pretended to drink before attacking the food with the energy and determination of one who knew starvation all too well. She ate like a Trojan, going through one tin of cooked meat and vegetables before attacking another one, ignoring the gravy and juice that ran down her pale chin.
"I'm Blank", she told Rurik, her mouth half-full of meat and potatoes. "I used to be a loner. I had a crossbow, remember?"
And my past self also murdered several Dutiers and loners in cold blood, no big deal.
Blank swallowed the food and pushed the thought away. She wasn't Balalaika. Balalaika had been another person altogether, a short, thin woman with black hair and blue eyes. Blank had white hair and pink eyes, and didn't murder people. Blank was a good person. Anxiety was beginning to creep its way into her mind. Did she even deserve to be here with this awfully nice man? Maybe she should just leave and never come back...
Just then someone knocked on the door. Rurik got up and disappeared up the stairs, and Blank took the opportunity to extract a plastic bottle of Xanax tablets from her pocket. She took two pills, dropped them into her mouth and swallowed them with some food. One of the pills didn't go down well, and when Rurik returned with a female guest, Blank was coughing into her plate, eyes watering.
"I'm all right...I'm all right" she gasped between coughs. "Just swallowed some food wrong. Pleased to meet you, Verona."
Another guest arrived soon after. Blank hadn't stopped eating, shovelling as much food into her mouth as she could. Her anxiety was beginning to fade, throttled by the Xanax she had swallowed. When Rurik came down with the next guest, Blank recognised him immediately.
"...Sigbrand?" She said, setting her fork down and standing up, a smile spreading across her thin lips. "Remember me? I'm Blank! We did a job in Limansk back in the day. I was the girl with the crossbow."
As she stood up, another bottle of pills fell from her pocket and fell onto the table. Blank retrieved it with a trembling hand, recognising the label on it and not wanting the others to see the "Seroplex 75 mg". Anyone familiar enough with psychiatric medication would recognise the brand of antidepressants better known as cilatopram. She stuffed the bottle back into her pocket and smiled.
"It's been a while!" She said.
Adder stayed in her car, hands clutching the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. As she hesitated, she saw two more people arrive: a young woman in a Range Rover, and a man riding a motorcycle. From where she was parked she couldn't see the bunker entrance, but she saw both arrivals head in that direction.
Come on Adder, don't be stupid, she scolded herself, you know Rurik. He was a good friend.
Yes, yes, of course...but Adder was still afraid. What memories would come back? She had done her best to leave her stalking days behind, and now she was about to dig them right up again.
A bad memory won't go away unless you confront it, she thought. Reluctantly she unlocked her door and stepped out. As soon as her light blue flats came into contact with the ground, she felt out of place. She shut the door and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. Gone was the thin, boyish silhouette of her twenties. The rich food at the institute and her pregnancy had added some shape to her previously shapeless body. Her hips were more pronounced, as well as her thighs and breasts. She had also let her hair grow out, and it reached her shoulders. The only thing she recognised from her Zone days were her eyes: green and reptilian. She looked at the silent trees and the shabby-looking vehicles around her. How out of place she must have looked, with her dainty flats, Denim vest, white blouse and jeans! She took a deep breath and went to the bunker's entrance. She raised her fist and knocked.
When Rurik answered she took a step back. The man hadn't changed one bit, except, perhaps, for slightly greyer hair and more lines on his face. He was still huge, towering over her like a bear. Adder felt her right hand tighten around the bottle of red wine she had brought as a gift.
"Hello Rurik" she said with a smile, "it's me, Adder."
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Post by blackpapermoon on Nov 9, 2014 17:25:29 GMT -5
After a moment the door opened to reveal the mountain of muscle that was Rurik, Yeva’s breathe was half caught in her throat the Colonel looked the same as she had last seen him before she left the zone. He greeted her warmly and gave her the condolence for the loss of her brother, it was so odd not seeing the former Dutyer without his black and red uniform. For a moment she felt like Vadik would enter the bunker at any moment.
“Thank you for your kind words Colonel, my brother died fighting for a cause he truly loved,” the woman said calmly as the tall man led her introducing her to his other guest.
“Hello, Blank it’s nice to meet you,” Verona said with a small nodded, “oh I brought a few sweets with me and this.”
She then pulled the bottle of high quality vodka form decorative bag, and handed it to him.
“I was told it was the best brand on the market,” she continued her voice going into a more reminiscent tone, “god, you looked like you haven’t aged a year since we last saw each other.”
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Camelith
Lurker
Three Camel Moon
Posts: 12
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Post by Camelith on Nov 10, 2014 13:59:27 GMT -5
It only took a moment for Rurik to arrive at the door after Sigbrand had knocked. The giant of a man had certainly aged since he last saw him, but the bone-breaking force of his handshake proved that he certainly had not gone soft outside of the Zone.
"It's been a long time, friend. How have you been?" Rurik asked, a wide grin spreading across his massive visage.
"Oh, I've managed." Sigbrand replied, "I've been wandering for about a year now. Guess I'm just not the kind to settle down."
Sigbrand and Rurik continued their conversation as they walked down the long flight of stairs to the bunker interior. It felt good to be in the company of a stalker again. To talk with someone who shared the same experiences. Sigbrand felt that no civilian in the Big Land could ever really hope to have a real connection with a former stalker. In a strange way, the Zone looked after its own. Survival there had seemed so much easier than it had been outside, even his time in the North had been downright relaxing for him, compared to life outside. The Zone provided for its denizens, and when the time came, it took them. Provided, of course, they weren't killed by another human before that time came.
The inside of Rurik's bunker was quite cosy. Most of the visible space was occupied by large wooden crates, but also present was a table and chairs and other pieces of furniture scattered about. More interesting than the chairs, however, were the people occupying them. One of them, a small woman he instantly recognized as the loner Blank, stood up to greet him.
"Remember me? I'm Blank! We did a job in Limansk back in the day. I was the girl with the crossbow. It's been a while!" she said.
"How could I forget my partner in crime, raiding Monolith convoys like Wild West bandits?" Sigbrand said, smiling. "It's good to see you, Blank."
While this was clearly the same Blank, the years since their adventures in Limansk had not been kind to her. She had clearly been very hungry for quite a long time, as made clear by the healthy portion of dishes surrounding her seat at the table. The way she watched the people around her with those pink eyes had changed as well. Her old steely confidence and unnervingly analytical stare where nowhere to be found.
He recognized the other person present as well, the sister of a fellow Duty officer he had been acquainted with. Lieutenant Novokov, wasn't it? Was he even still alive? Since his sister was here alone, Sigbrand guessed that he was not.
"Vorona?" He asked, putting out a hand as she turned in her seat to face him, "Lieutenant Myrvang, I knew your brother before I left Rostok."
Taking his own seat across from Blank, Sigbrand picked up an empty tin cup and helped himself to an open bottle of Vodka resting on the table.
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Post by The Karcolith on Nov 13, 2014 11:02:19 GMT -5
"Hello Rurik" she said with a smile, "it's me, Adder."
The statement wasn't really necessary, one look at her eyes revealed all he needed to know who it was, that and her features hadn't changed much in the last five years, he noticed the bottle of red wine clenched in her hand. Stepping to one side he swept his arm in a hospitable manner allowing her to step past before shutting the door again.
“I'm surprised to see you here, your time in the zone certainly wasn't easy for you, but it's a welcome surprise.” Rurik commented, leading Adder down to where the others were situated. “Unfortunately I don't have any glasses that would suit such a fine wine.”
As they came down the last stairs Rurik let Adder introduce herself before taking a seat and taking up his mug he poured another measure of vodka before placing it down and selecting one of the pastries and savoring the flavor. His usual diet was far more bland, with very few luxuries. Thinking back he'd never really been one for such things, though in the zone there weren't many means of acquiring such things. Not without spending considerable amounts of money.
Looking around the shabby table he looked on each of the guests, wondering what they'd seen in the last five years. What adventures and tales they could share.
Thinking aloud, he asked a question he'd never pondered himself, since in many ways he'd only gotten so far away anyway.
“Anyone regret leaving in the first place?”
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Nov 13, 2014 12:32:49 GMT -5
Adder followed Rurik into his bunker. Of course Rurik would live in such a thing, she thought with a faint smile. It seemed so fitting for Rurik to live in the woods in an abandoned Soviet bunker. As the pair went down the stairs, Adder heard the faint sound of conversation. So she wasn't the first to arrive. She wasn't sure how to feel about that. In any case it was too late for her to turn back and leave. The stairs came to an end, with only a small and faintly lit doorway into the room beyond. The smell reminded Adder of old canvas and rubber, something she associated with army surplus stores... And memories came flooding back unbidden. She clearly saw herself picking ancient Soviet gear from the shelves of a Ukrainian surplus store in Kiev, her empty stomach twisting itself into knots and her hands shaking from fatigue.
She entered the room without a sound, her body almost hidden behind Rurik. She glanced uncertainly from behind the former Dutier, and saw three people seated at an old table. She recognised the young man almost immediately, but her memory drew a blank at the two women seated nearby. Almost. A flicker of recognition passed through her green eyes when she saw the snowy white hair of the smallest of the two women. Her eyes narrowed for a fraction of an instant. Blank. Now there was someone she hadn't trusted back in the day.
But this wasn't the Zone, so Adder smiled softly and approached the table, bottle of wine in hand.
"Hello Sigbrand. Hello Blank" she said before turning to the other woman, "and hello to you too. I don't think we've met before. I'm Adder."
Freedom's former second in command took a seat next to Sigbrand and gave each guest a fleeting glance. Sigbrand looked scruffy, as if he'd been wandering the roads for months. Blank didn't look any better. In fact, she looked worse than Sigbrand with her ghostly emaciated body and badly washed hair.
"I brought some Chateau Lacoste red, if you like wine" she said, placing the bottle on the table with a soft clunk. "Better than that Cossacks swill we used to knock back in the Zone, eh?"
Blank tried hard not to stare at the new arrival, whom she knew all too well. She also knew that Adder knew her, and that the snake-eyed woman didn't like her much. But Adder gave no sign of hostility. Perhaps she had moved on? It had been five years, and Adder had never known about Blank's old identity. The frail drifter cautiously picked up a pastry and whisked it to her side of the table before stuffing it into her mouth. Had she not been dulled by her Xanax, she would have cried at the warm crumbly taste.
“Anyone regret leaving in the first place?”
Blank looked up and blinked, unsure how to answer Rurik's question. Instead she picked up another pastry and slid it into her mouth. Adder was the first to reply:
"Honestly? No" she said, "I live in France, in a house of my own and I eat three meals a day and sleep in a proper bed. I don't have to worry about getting shot, or mauled or ripped to shreds, or getting radiation sickness. And I'm a mother now. I have a son to raise."
She said the last part with a small hint of pride, and took a photograph out of her pocket, which she handed to Sigbrand. "His name is Alexei", she said with a smile.
Blank swallowed her pastry so hard she hurt her throat. Adder had made a life for herself, it seemed. What on earth could she say to the others? The truth? Some elaborate lie? Eventually she forced herself to speak, a sickly smile twisting her thin lips.
"Oh no, I-I don't regret it, really." She said, her fingers fiddling with the zipper on her jacket, "I-I had some hard times, of course. I was in hospital for a bit, but they let me go a year ago, as I got better. Now I have, ah...I have my van, and I have my freedom..."
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Post by blackpapermoon on Nov 13, 2014 19:25:08 GMT -5
A younger man joined them after saying his greetings to Rurik, it was clear that he and the smaller paler woman knew each other, as they settled into light conversation about past raids. He did look familiar to her, but she could not quite recall a stalker by the name of Sigbrand. However when he turned to her he introduced himself as Lieutenant Myrvang the face and name clicked in her head.
“Oh yes, the young sniper ,”Yeva said taking hold of his hand, “it is good to see another one of my brother’s comrades and to know his memory is not forgotten.”
Time passed as the three guests and their host chatted idly about the zone, with topics ranging from people and familiar places, to more extravagant raids at the zone’s center. The small pale woman reached for one of the sweets on the table before stuffing it into her face much like a squirrel saving food for the winter. Clearly this girl was not doing as well for herself as the others, then again Yeva looked around the table at the faces of people present. Their host was a simplistic person, and it was no surprise that he lived in a bunker like this, it just fit him well. The other two where much more rugged, like wanderers drifting from place to place. Even she was given to wanderlust but every ship had a home port, a home. So wear did they belong, what was home for them?
“Have as many as you want Blank,” the blond woman said reaching for a vatrushka, then pushed the rest of the plate towards the scrawny woman. The taller woman then took a bite out of the plump ringed sweet, savoring the cheese filling sweetened with raisins and honey. However yet another guest knocked on the thick metal door of the bunker; this time more of a zone celebrity, Adder the former snake eyed commander of Freedom. The gray eyed woman stopped mid chew and swallowed heavily, wasn’t she dead? The zone legend looked far from it; in fact she looked like she was doing very well, designer clothes, a gift of expensive French wine and a photo of her child.
Vorona coughed into the back of her hand in order to clear her throat. Just as their host should ask about any regret on leaving the zone.
“I can’t say I have a strong connection to that place,” Yeva said after pondering it for a moment, “it had its beauties; but what I miss the most are the people, even more the ones that it took.”
The ex-loner then turned to the red haired woman, she knew nothing but the stories and tails told about around campfires. Most of which the blond thought where just that, but the zone fogged the line between myth and truth making one indistinguishable from the other. But this woman was said to have died; but ghost only live in the zone, the rumors were mistaken.
“Hello, I’m Vorona. I doubt you remember me,” she stammered involuntarily playing with a ring on her right hand in an anxious way, “Ferret might have introduced us once. I didn’t know anyone in Freedom’s leadership…I’m sorry for your loss.” She paused, “Ferret was under the impression that you and your leader where very close.”
After a brief, what could only be described as an awkward pause, the loner asked,
“I don’t mean to pry but was he the father?”
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Camelith
Lurker
Three Camel Moon
Posts: 12
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Post by Camelith on Nov 15, 2014 16:01:29 GMT -5
Adder was definitely one of the last people Sigbrand had expected to see. Her appearance was just as surprising as her arrival. Adder's years outside of the Zone had been kind to her, without a doubt. Her clothes were quite nice, she was not scrawny as she had been in the Zone, and her hair was longer than Sigbrand had ever seen it. The fact that she was here, and Maginot was not, meant that Maginot was almost certainly dead.
“Anyone regret leaving in the first place?”, Rurik asked.
Adder was the first of the assembled ex-stalkers to answer. Her answer did not surprise him, but what did was the news that she was a mother. The Zone was, without a doubt, harmful to any individual's fertility. Sigbrand figured Maginot was most likely the father. When Adder handed him a picture of the child, he was assured in that suspicion. Alexei was still quite young, but Sigbrand could see Maginot in him.
Blank spoke up next, as Sigbrand handed the photo of Alexei to Vorona. The frailty in her voice, and the forced smile on her face, made him wonder what just had happened to her in the years since he had last seen her.
Vorona spoke up once Blank was finished, leaving Sigbrand last.
"I don't know if I regret leaving." He said, "But at the same time I've never really decided if I should have left."
"I wandered back to Oslo, and spent some time trying out life as a civilian. It was just too strange. I didn't like having to lie every time somebody asked me about my past. I spent some time in the military as well. I was in Afghanistan for two years." Sigbrand paused, and took another drink of Vodka. "Took me a while to figure out shooting goat herders wasn't really my thing, and by that point I had lost all reason to stick around."
Sigbrand was surprised by how much he had spoken. "Sorry, didn't mean to bore you all with my life's story." He said, chuckling.
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Post by The Karcolith on Nov 19, 2014 10:33:11 GMT -5
Rurik sat and listened as the group in turn described their lives, it was a pleasant change from the usual dull, quiet life he'd been living for the last five years, along with the fine goods that Vorona and Adder had provided it was turning out to be a good evening. Event though he knew the complications that lead to him walking away from the Duty faction might disrupt the fragile peace that resided currently, he knew Dutiers had ambushed Adder and others when they were leaving, they'd used the friendship between Rurik and the two high ranking Freedomers to catch them off guard, it had ended with the death of Maginot.
By the time he'd found out he there was nothing he could do. After considering his options he'd left the zone, working for the traders of the zone to move weapons into the zone.
“Congratulation Nadya, I'm sure he couldn't ask for a better mother.” Rurik said, “Only one regret, and it was out of my hand.” He said looking down at the table, but gazing beyond it.
Two days after. Within the zone, Dark Valley
Heavy gunfire had echoed throughout the Bandit's base in Dark Valley as a group of elite mercs slowly made their way through the base, eliminating all resistance. At the head of the group was a mercenary, whose helmet was fronted with a skull shaped mask. Holding up his fist and the group stopped.
“Last chance arseholes! Surrender and you can walk out of here, don't be like your faction buddies.” Karc shouted.
A meek shout came from within the complex and a couple of young men, barely out of their teens emerged hands held up and unarmed.
“Okay boys, how many are left? Just the two of you?” Karc inquired, finger hover over the trigger, “Quickly now, I have other places to be...”
The taller of the two spoke up and pointed, presumably towards the office, “The boss and his guards are still shacked up in his office.”
Nodding he signaled with a wave of his hand for the men to find the office.
“But don't attack, I want to be there when I show that fat sack of shit why you don't refuse an offer from our faction.” Looking to the two bandits still with their hands in the air. “Well boys, I'll give you until the count of 5 to be out of sight or you'll join your fuck wit friends...”
Raising his assault rifle the two sprinted away, making their way for the exit. Shrugging he made his way to where his squad was waiting.
“Breach the door, chuck a couple of frags in.” Karc said stepping away from the door. Moments later two loud thuds shock the complex, kicking the door open the room was sprayed with gunfire mowing down the survivors. One last door remained as Karc neared it a shot rang out from within and a round whistled past his head, only inches away. Ducking away several more shots were fired until the clear and distinct click of an empty gun was heard, kicking the door open he rushed across the room, jumping over the table and kicking the Bandit's latest leader, sending the gun from his hands and leaving him winded on the floor. Even as the bandit reached for the gun Karc stood on his hand, the bones making sickening crack under the weight of the mercenary.
“Now, as you know, we had a deal Popov, we remove your competition and gave you a means of sieving control, in exchange you sent us artifacts. Not sell them and think we wouldn't notice.” Karc said quietly, grinding the man's hand into the ground, ignoring his cry of pain.
“Put him in his chair.” Karc said stepping away as two burly mercs grabbed the bandit and forced him into a sitting position. Pulling the desk back a few feet Karc sat cross legged across from the bandit. “I'm going to kill you, lucky for you I won't be torturing you. It'll be a delightful reminder to anyone who thinks that this little faction of criminals is a viable career choice within my zone.”
One of the mercs ran in Karc turning slowly to see who had entered. "Sir, the military have pushed through Garbage and have launched a full assault on Rostok. We have reinforcements moving to launch a counter attack as we speak."
"Proceed with the plan, as for here, well I'll have to rush my plans." Karc said, "Move out, we'll be right behind you, we'll have to sneak into Rostok.
The merc saluted and left.
"It would appear these Bandits are just wasting space and our time, with no loyalties meaning they have no use to anyone, and I doubt anyone will miss them. Torch the bodies." Karc said, swinging his legs off the table and leaving the room he looked back at the bandits leader who was struggling against the men holding him. "Oh Popov, I'll thank Shade for the detailed plans of the base next time I see him."
Looking back to his soldiers, “Hang him. String up others as a warning, make it gruesome...”
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Post by Lawnmower Joe on Nov 19, 2014 11:39:55 GMT -5
"Yes", said Adder with a sigh. "He was. Just imagine our surprise, and horror, when we found out about it. We thought the Zone would have taken anyone's procreating abilities away, with all that radiation hanging about. I wanted to stay and get rid of the baby, but Mag insisted we leave. I think he was tired of the Zone, the horror, the death. He may also have been homesick. He kept talking about having another life for us, a real life outside with our home, our children, our future."
Adder's shoulders drooped, and she looked into her glass. "When I asked him about Freedom, he said he'd had enough. He was too old, and Freedom wasn't any closer to being a real anarchist community. It all seemed like a pipe dream to him, and a lot of Freedomers weren't happy with him. They blamed him for everything, from Freedom's high losses to the failed truce with Duty, and I suppose they were partly right..."
She raised her glass and took a sip. Like many stalkers she had downed her fair share of vodka, but her years spent in France had taken any love she had for the stuff away. She grimaced at the taste and the burn, almost as if she had swilled petrol.
"Maginot kept saying the best thing we could do for Freedom and humanity was to get ourselves out of the Zone. By staying in the Zone we were just hemming ourselves in and preventing the world from accessing what wonders we could give. So he believed we had to leave and make our knowledge available to the world...that idea died with him in Yantar. I'm the only one who made it out in the end. Better than nothing, I suppose."
She put her glass down and looked at the photograph of her son. He was four in that picture, and smiling up at the camera. There was a lot of Yves in him. The blond hair, the face...but his eyes were Adder's. The snake slits seemed out of place in such an innocent and happy face. Adder smiled.
"But I'm happy. I have my son, and he's everything to me. I still feel sad about what happened with Maginot, but he lives on through Alexei and I know he'd just want us to be a nice, happy little family."
Blank stared into the distance, each of the others' stories making her delve deeper into her own thoughts and doubts. She had lied, clumsily, about what she'd been doing for the past five years. She had tucked her hands into her pockets, and one of them was clasped around her Abilify medication. So, what if she told them? Would they be scared? Uneasy? She knew how people's attitudes could shift in the blink of an eye when they found out your mind wasn't entirely sound. Blank also remembered all the "psychos" who'd sought refuge in the Zone, psychos like Balalaika.
She gave a final uneasy look at Sigbrand and Adder before diverting her eyes to the table. Two opposing forces struggled within her, each pushing against the other. Even with the dulling effects of the Xanax Blank could feel her heart beat faster, her inner tension twisting her like a bow string. She shifted.
The past is another country, Blank.
She took a ragged breath, and began to speak, the words tumbling over each other as her lips trembled and refused to cooperate. "I, ah, I kind of...I kind of lied about what I did these past years. After I left the Zone I went to stay with a relative in Donetsk. I didn't have any money left from the Zone, so I tried getting a job, but I just couldn't. Everything got worse, I lost control of my life, I..."
And here comes the killer, Blank. Remember, the past is another country.
"...I was institutionalised. In a psychiatric hospital."
She glanced upwards only to immediately pin her eyes back on the table. Her hands worked uneasily together like fretful spiders.
"I kept hearing voices" she said, "that told me to shut up, to kill myself, that I was worthless. I couldn't get a job because I couldn't keep calm with all those voices in my head. I couldn't leave the house, I couldn't even eat or get dressed. My cousin, she's the one I was staying with, threatened to kick me out if I didn't get a hold of myself. I went to see the doctor. He diagnosed me with clinical depression and schizophrenia. The next day I was in hospital. I was in there for five years. The first doctor I had made me do ECT. Electro-convulsive therapy. It made me forget a lot of what I did or who I was. My next doctor just put me on antidepressants and antipsychotics. It worked better. Then I was released from hospital with nowhere to go, and nothing to do...I've been wandering the country ever since."
She couldn't help it. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her heart was burning with shame. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
"I regret leaving the Zone. A lot. It's the last time I had any dignity. I went hungry a lot, and I couldn't sleep some nights because something was outside and trying to kill me, but people respected me, I had power over my own destiny even if that power just boiled down to having a gun. Now I'm a crackpot who lives in a van."
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Post by blackpapermoon on Nov 20, 2014 18:59:21 GMT -5
“He is such a beautiful child,” Vorona replied as she looked over the photo of the toddler, “I only wish I shared in your bravery to raise a child on my own.”
The blond handed the photo back to Adder, guiltily she looked away as she felt the oncoming pressure of tears starting to well up in her eyes. Why did she not have a hansom little boy or pretty little girl of her own, why could she not have the living memory of the one she loved. Then again Ferret had said he didn’t want to have children, stating that the radiation he had been exposed to as a child in Prypiat and then later with the Zone and his mutation. Turning away slightly she rubbed her eyes and kept the tears from coming.
“I guess it is my turn to tell how I’ve spent the last five years,” Vorona said softly after a small sip of the fine wine, “I own a fishing vessel, have a few good hands and have been operating out of the Black Sea.”
“However I’m looking to expand to the Baltic, I have already filed for licenses to fish in Russian waters,” She continued, “I am looking to hire people to man a new ship, if anyone is looking for work.”
After a few moment Blank piped up seemingly more distress then before, soon telling her full story. Suddenly her sad state made sense, as the small woman sobbing softly drying her tears on the back of her sleeve. The tall blond hesitated to react, but the other seem so embarrassed and she did not want to harm what little self-esteem that she might have left. Slowly Yeva placed a hand to Blanks back and patted her in hopes to sooth her.
“Do you feel that the Zone will give you fulfillment if you returned?” she asked, “someone dear to me once told me that the Zone curses all but only few are blessed by it.”
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