Sha
Lurker
Posts: 7
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Post by Sha on Dec 7, 2014 14:34:29 GMT -5
It was literally the dead of "night". Night being relative to each and every station was submerged under the concrete of the city, for Belorusskaya, it was when visitors were shuffled to sleeping quarters, goods stopped being unloaded from the "docks", and the vendors closed their not-so-modest shops. The station was silent except for the barking of a dog somewhere in an access tunnel on the north end and the occasional ceremaic clatter of a Hansa Military patrol. Even the lights were dimmed in comparison and the whole concrete fortress-city felt dreary for once in its life.
Yuri, however, was wide awake. The young man was sitting on a group of crates by one of southern maintenance entrances which was very rarely used. The night had finally arrived. He had been awaiting this moment for years, when he would sneak away from the comfort of his station in a bid to reach Polis. He dreamed of becoming a Stalker and it felt as if it were actually in grasp in the dark of the station.
He ducked as a patrol came by to check the door to the small tunnel. Their flashlights beamed back and forth but where unable to catch him as he slipped behind the group of crates he was earlier proudly sitting on. The guards knew who he was, and he knew if he were caught he'd be returned to his tent. It would bring ruination to hopeful freedom. As the guards slipped away he sat back up and heaved a deep sight, muttering to himself: "Come on Aleksi, we need to get going... Where the hell are you?"
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Post by brodie on Dec 8, 2014 15:11:31 GMT -5
The plan had been decided and finally the cogs of motion had started. They pushed Aleksandr through his bedroom door and into his mother's longing arms. She was a pale woman with features now more shrunken and deep, ringed with dark circles or lines than ever before. The embrace was as long as they could allow before Aleksi insisted he must leave. "Don't cry," he began, his longer clinging onto his arms for just a fraction longer. "Jurek's still here, he'll look after you more than I ever could. Plus without me there'll be more to go around." A slight smile held back another flood of tears from her already empty ducts. She had mourned, hard, for the past two days. She probably would for an uncountable more in the future.
As well as a bag packed with some supplies and some items Aleksi thought might be required, he brought along with him the shotgun that his mother almost dropped trying to hand him as a gift from everyone. There was a story behind it, but through her whimpers and cries he only managed to determine that it had been saved for such an event. A number of shells, two boxes full, were provided for it. Although their age and efficiency could not be attained by a boy, barely a man. A knife had been strapped at his left leg. It was large and wide, presumably capable for military use. Good gifts from a family breaking at the seams.
He needed to go to make the deadline. It forced him to speed through the front door - which had been closed by his mother only seconds after and had once again broke down into tears, this time clutched by her much-taller, older son - and down the street. The lights were dimmed and the streets (if they could be called that at all) were emptied bar the occasional military presence that protected everyone in Belorusskaya. "Come on Aleksi, we need to get going... Where the hell are you?" He had heard when he made his near-silent approach to the back of the boy waiting on the crates. "Boo!" Aleksi made sure to whisper, even if he did push fingers into Yuri's sides. Anything to get another into trouble while remaining completely innocent. "I've said my goodbyes." He turned around to look back at the darkened station. "This is it, huh?" A sigh. Of both joyous, weight-lifted relief and deep, soulful regret. Everything was going to be left behind for Worm-knows-what in the vast dark of the tunnels.
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Sha
Lurker
Posts: 7
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Post by Sha on Dec 8, 2014 22:23:14 GMT -5
Yuri made a muffled yelp as he was suddenly ambushed by his friend. The fingers dug into his tattered, old hoodie-jacket didn't help much. The young man turned his eyes on Aleksi with the most vehement of glares before curling into a wide grin. He stood, a slight clatter from his own gear as he did so, he was clad in an old Brown hooded sweater his father called an "American"; under it were obviously three or four tattered shirts of different color, and to top it off were grease-stained blue-jeans that were now faded grey.
Unlike Aleksi's family, Yuri's was poor. He had scrapped by his whole life working for his friend's late father and it showed. Yuri was lanky from starvation and sudden bouts of food right after though under his lanky form lay wiry muscle from moving heavy crates of goods back and forth. His gear was also on the harder side of life, on his makeshift burlap belt lay a pre-war cowskin holster (likely the second most valuable object on his person) which held an old Soviet pistol. It only had one clip and that much was obvious. Next to it was his more rugged weapon... It was an old sling that Yuri was unusually skilled with. Strapped to his chest was an old Trench-Knife (which was actually a sharpened railspike welded to a brass knuckle.) Besides that he carried more mismatched gear, a cracked but functional flashlight, several batteries, a backpack that clattered with a few working tools, a rope, and a military canteen. It had all been stolen/collected/bought over the years for this very moment.
"Yeah. This is it." His voice rung with finality, he was also good at expressing exact ideas with his mix-accented voice. No matter how much he tried to stop it, his father's heritage and mannerisms bled into him. "Now! We take our first steps into the world!" With that and one overly exaggerated step, he hoped off the platform onto the long-dead rails with a muffled thud. Fear briefly ran over his spine as he looked down the tunnel. "We need to go down about six-hundred meters. We'll find the side-door to our freedoms there!" He swaggered to the side of the platform to pat the top of one of Aleksi's boots."C'mon slow poke!" He then turned and began down the tracks, slowly vanishing into the darkness of the tunnels. He had spent days plotting their course to Polis. They would bypass local station officials and move to Kievskaya and from there to Arbatskaya.
"We have a long way to go. I hope you brought along food and lil' bullets." He looked over his shoulder at his companion, whispering as they walked. The tunnel was cold and it seemed to get colder as they wandered down its way. "We should get to Kievskaya within the week if all goes well." They were nearing the service way now, its precipice visible as an indented shadow in the solid tunnel walls. Yuri approached it and then began to pull on it, yet the rust-laden bolts refused to turn and open. "Fuck! Suka! Aleksi throw your weight into this, eh?"
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Post by brodie on Dec 29, 2014 21:09:51 GMT -5
What escaped Aleksi's mouth following the yelp wasn't quite laughter as one might expect; it was breathy and near-silent. An obvious attempt to keep quiet while still retaining the humour of the situation. It was largely nasal - as if he had breathed short, quick spikes of air through both nostrils - and followed into open-mouthed air-breathing. An odd type of laughter if there ever was one. That moment passed quickly enough and before he knew it the somewhat-clean boot had been tapped and Aleksi verbally gestured to follow.
He hopped off the platform, just like Yuri had done, but hadn't landed quite properly. Nothing dangerous or ankle-shattering, but enough to be much louder than his companion and to stumble onto the old wooden sleepers connecting each metal rail. Hands grazed wood and old splinters pierced through skin. "By'lat," He cursed, more to himself than anything else with ears. Already this adventure had taken a turn for the worse, if splinters can be called that at all. And in that brief moment of seeing Yuri disappear into the darkness a pang of regret filled him. Home, not so far away, called to him through the metal and the wood. It willed him back into his mother's grieving arms and his brother's adult attitude. When he had pushed himself from the floor he caught back up to speed with Yuri something was mentioned about the most necessary items either of them could carry: bullets. Ammunition would be the cornerstone of this adventure and without it they may as well crumble to the floor and cry. Secondary was food. Glorious food. "Do you think I would've left without them?" He carried on for a little while walking towards the small cut-out from the wall. "We should get to Kievskaya within the week if all goes well." Yuri seemed to mention without much of a thought, of course there had been so much. So much meticulous planning had gone into this. "A week's an awful long time." Aleksi mused. Concerned with what would await them outside of the station and in the tunnels.
The metal door seemed to be rusted shut and the stronger of the pair was unable to open it. "What're you trying to say?" Aleksi joked, with a smile appearing on his face moments after. But still, this couldn't be the end. Not yet, not so easily. Aleksi took over, standing where Yuri had and pulled. His feet spread out and his weight pulled against it. He carried more pounds than his friend and with that extra weight tugging on the oxidised metal it eventually cracked and flaked away, creaking and grinding as it opened slightly. Another pull and it slid more easily open. The door opening revealed a musk that only an old, unused room could have. It was dark inside it also. Saliva pooled under Aleksi's tongue and was pushed backwards down a drying throat. Since the metal had stopped groaning there was a noticeable silence between the pair. Bravery drove the 18 year old through the gateway into the rest of the world, but the scuttling across an old concrete floor froze him there in silence.
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Sha
Lurker
Posts: 7
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Post by Sha on Dec 30, 2014 15:52:42 GMT -5
And so, their first obstacle was crushed as Aleksi threw or pulled his weight at it. The grating noise as the door opened echoed down the tunnels and Yuri quickly looked in both directions to make sure none of the local guards where coming at them. Normally Yuri wouldn't be scared of the troops, but he knew they would return him to his family given his social standing in The Hansa. His eyes quickly turned back to the consuming darkness of what his map had detailed as an old supply room.
Then there was the skittering. A frown slowly crossed his face and he watched his bulky friend freeze in place. "They're just spiders Aleknyshko." He teased, calling him little or childish. He then groped inside of one of his own pockets to pull his hand-me-down flashlight. The tool flickered to life and flickered it did as he shined into the room. There was quite a bit more movement as hand and head sized shadows crawled rapidly towards the ceilings and corners. The sleek, white webbing that covered the room was now highlighted. "See, they're as afraid of you as you are them." Either way he quietly drew his handgun. He honestly had little idea on how to use it but it would need to be used should a bigger one appear.
Yuri stepped past Aleksi and into the room. The shelves that lined walls were stripped in several places and what remained was in deep disrepair. The tools and supplies that would have been in here were taken long ago when the first survivors of Belorusskaya spread out to find resources. All that remained was a door on the other side of the room. It stood their, rotted and rusted, with almost a malicious glare as if something was waiting on the otherside. A sticky, cold feeling would draw over the pairs' shoulders as Yuri advanced.
"The handle's wielded stuck. Damn Hansa and their security." Yuri murmured and to Aleksi, he would sound hundreds of meters off beside the fact he was standing only as much as ten feet away.
Something was wrong.
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