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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
View Likes PostPosted: Sat Jan 16, 2016 12:04 am 

It is a hollow shell of what it once was.

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It was good to have Viktor with them, as Darren wasn't sure how the reception would've gone had the Stalker not appeared behind them as they stood in the makeshift lounge. Once the uncertainty was passed, he glanced longingly at the bar that was set up against one of the walls, but he decided it would be best to stay in Viktor's wake for the time being. A drink could wait for another time, bad as he needed one.

When they reached Viktor's spot, Darren nodded appreciatively as he looked around at his surroundings. It was definitely a comfortable place, and even with the weapons everywhere the furniture still gave it a cozy kind of feel. At least, as close to cozy as a person could really get in this day and age. "Looks like a nice place to call home, man."

When Viktor indicated the bag he held, he limped forward and placed it on the table, before realizing something that hadn't occurred to him.

"Oh ****," he rasped, pulling a holster from within the deceased man's pack, "I forgot to give you this." He extended it out to Liliana, smiling as he tried to imagine what she was thinking. "Don't worry, you don't have to talk to me anymore to get this. I'm no expert on guns, but your pocket probably isn't the best place for it."

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Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
View Likes PostPosted: Sat Jan 16, 2016 1:41 am 
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Liliana paused slightly as she entered ahead of Viktor, though obviously her face belied the hesitation in her step. Warm, came the first thought as she saw the interior of the Stalker warehouse. It wasn’t just the wooden paneling that lined the walls, and had nothing to do with the actual temperature (which was considerably warmer) but rather the air of… comraderie that radiated from every corner. Everyone knew everyone here. The harvesters had a similar aura, but the groups were always small, and most other places or groups were either too big or too wild to maintain a close-knit feeling. Things fell still very quickly, and she felt several sets of perceptive eyes fall to them. Her calf muscles tensed, instinctively preparing to propel her back out the door.

Fortunately, the tension fizzed out like a bulb the second Viktor showed his face, and the warehouse once more became a hive of companionable activity. Her muscles relaxed and she ran a quick gaze over the place, much in the same way she had speed-read the outside of the building, as she followed the rest of the group to his pad. Liliana paused very briefly as they passed a couple of Stalkers engrossed in a simple card game, her empty stare capturing the hand of both players. She suspected the one with the darker hair was losing. She had no idea what the game was, but he seemed like the type who would lose.

Viktor’s quarters were mostly what she would have expected from him; anything and everything to make, modify and maintain most (if not all) weapons and armor frequently seen in today’s world. The home-like, furniture touches were a bit less expected (she would have guessed a chair, at most), and without thinking she ran her fingertips over one of the faded posters, coming dangerously close to being lost in thought when Darren’s voice snapped her back.

Liliana gave her typical blank appraisal of the situation, then accepted the drop leg pouch from the raspy-voiced man, once more careful not to touch him or come any closer than she physically had to. She handled the straps and worn material in a way that made her confusion obvious, despite her lack of expression, but after unzipping her heavy coat and a few moments of fumbling she managed to get one around her lower waist and one around her right thigh. She thought the whole thing was a bit bulky for such a small gun, but the weight and rigidity of the sides made them seem intended for extra ammunition. The gawky woman pulled the little firearm from her pocket and placed it where it seemed to naturally fit, then buckled it closed. She felt unbalanced, uneven; it was different, and back when she had opinions, she may have disliked it. Didn’t care much now, though. Regardless of whether or not she unloaded the gun for some food or meds or other useful things, she decided to keep the holster.

She shifted her knapsack to the small of her back and stood close to the door, leaning one slim shoulder on the wall. The discontented shifting in her gut (worry, for other people) was attributed to those of their group that had stayed outside with the man and his big dogs, and Liliana toyed with the idea of ditching Viktor to check on them. She wasn’t in much of a hurry to walk back through the entrance alone, however.


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Sun Jan 17, 2016 12:41 am 

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Words. Movement and the delicious smell of fresh meat worked to confuse the wounded and desperate man. Wolves at his back growled and prodded for him to act, urged him to take action and defend what was left of their pack. It was all he could do to stop himself from pulling the trigger. The steel beneath his finger a sharp contrast to the heat that radiated from his flesh. His wound, likely infected now, how brought on a fever which made it, even more, difficult for him to stay focused. Sweat thick and permeated with his desperation beaded on his brow and rolled down to gather along the scruff of a beard on his face.

A nervous glance from the hulk of a beast that offered him meat, the guards who seemed unsure of what to do and then to the woman who spoke as if she knew him. It was now that he focused on her, eyes keen and calculating sized her up while his fevered mind searched his databank known as a brain for an answer.

How did she know him?

It was her mole that triggered the memory. The curl of her lip as she gazed at him in a cold, predatory and calculating manner. They had met before and he was relieved that he defied his Alpha that day and had it pay off. The woman had begun to snipe them from afar, the dog a distraction most had been tasked to deal with, but he and a few others were sent to eliminate the one with the gun. Bow and arrow in hand, he stalked with his packmates to where she waited. Arrow notched and prepared to start the fight with a clean wounding kill he found his actions halted. The bow shook and trembled from the restrained tension as he merely stood there and looked at her.

The first woman of his kind that he had gotten a good look at. All the others they had seen were often older, or so quickly dispatched he never had a chance to look openly at them. Yet, here was a female of his kind. A strong and skilled one, who sought to defy his pack on her own. Strength, courage and loyalty are what the wolves valued, which made this woman a near perfect representation of these ideals. The wolves with him, impatient for him to shoot to start the attack, nipped at his heel and caused him to loose the arrow. Fortunately, it was wide and missed the mark but it was a signal none the less so off charged the wolves with him left alone to stare off at a loss for what to do. Rooted in his place, his feet dug into the hot dirt of the wastelands. Shots were fired, a yelp went out but it was only when she screamed in pain that he acted. Feet charged forth, bearing the man with them with clear purpose he tackled one wolf from her. Stunned the beast staggered a bit, so he ran over and did the same with the other who had managed to clamp down on her flesh. A tussle, a rumble and desperate squabble ensued which allowed her monstrous mutt to return. Chased off, Ruffus and he wolves ran back to the pack while the woman was dragged off by her companion. It was the last time he saw her and he hoped that she had been alright.

Now, here she was pointing a gun at him. Funny how things came full circle.

“No fight. I want trade for food and help. Trade my help. Wolves my friends…my family….they won’t hurt anyone. I swear…” he pleaded with the guards and the woman who had her gun still on him. “Please. No fight…” though even as he said it, his hand that clutched at his side slipped into the pouch in his shirt to hold the last bit of explosives he had left, his thumb allowed to rest atop the detonator. This **** went sour and they wanted to kill him, then he would be sure he would kill more than a few of them on his way out. That was for sure.

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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
View Likes PostPosted: Wed Jan 20, 2016 3:19 am 
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Darina watched with mild curiosity as the scarred man and the harvester began to talk with one another, lazily taking note of their names when they introduced themselves to each other. If she wanted to, she could pick out the particulars of the conversation, but right now, what she wanted was to find a replacement for the bullets and the knives she had lost to the guards at the Underbelly. Maybe in exchange for these items the Stalkers could use a scout, and she’d be one of their best, if they were willing to have her.

Something made her twitch. As if yanked with a hook, her head jerked to the side by instinct, smelling something. Mutant wolves, smells of dried blood on them, and the curious scent of a man who, by all indications, looked and smelled like someone who had spent most of his life among these animals. It wasn’t unusual to hear or encounter feral humans, and for bandits they were more of a nuisance than a danger. This one, though, seemed like a different story. What was even more intriguing was that the woman called Magpie knew who he was, and not in a good way, too. Dar glanced at Rock Hammer and almost laughed at the absurdity of what she saw; unless she understood it wrong, Rock was being a nice fellow and actually offering one of those fermenting slabs of meat that formed part of his ‘clothes’ to the stranger and his two animals.

“He smells sick,” she said simply, crossing her arms. She wanted to be inside, but, well, her curiosity got the better of her this time, and it felt wrong to ditch the action after she had gotten a look. “And we’re in a Stalker base. He so much as sneezes, and they will rain fire on him. Although,” she added, this time raising her voice so even the stranger could hear her clearly, “the stranger would maybe want to take note of this fact, too, should he decide to use whatever it is he is hiding in his pocket there.” If his suspicious gesture wasn’t enough to tell Darina that he had a contingency measure, his heartbeat supported the fact. Now, that was a pleasant surprise for the bandit. She didn’t even need to consciously be listening for telltale signs of heightened anxiety. It was as if her own concentration on the current situation was a signal her mutated body interpreted then passed on to her other senses.

Hoping this was enough to tell the others to be extra cautious, she stepped back, too. If that was an explosive, like a grenade, Darina wondered if Rock was strong enough to deal with it. Whatever the man planned to do, it was more of a Hail Mary than anything else. Poor bastard must really be in pain. “We better just get inside,” Darina said to Magpie, “no use personally wasting your own ammo on him if they can handle it. And if he tries to jump us, well.” She tapped her nose. “Let’s just say I can sniff him out.”


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
View Likes PostPosted: Sun Jan 24, 2016 1:44 am 
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((collab b/t me and ya boy Eggy B))

Herb picking had gone well, and the rest of the previous night was spent mostly organizing things around Stefan’s office. The interior of the Stalker base was quite a bit more lively in the daytime, and the arrival of a large group of strangers would certainly be a reason for Stefan to prepare some extra supplies. There was a standard checkup that he tended to do for newcomers, locating mutations and pinpointing exactly what it was they did, in order to help create an effective treatment for them. If a new face wasn’t mutated at all, then it saved him work. At the moment, he was out of the office, still in his own quarters of the barracks area.

Sasha, given free reign over the room, was doing as she often did when her owner wasn’t around. Plodding along near the ceiling on a path of shelves, keeping a watchful eye and acting as a faithful, if somewhat ineffective guardian. At the very least, she could pounce on any strangers who wandered in to greet them. The rat curled up in the corner of the room’s uppermost portion, her red eyes poking out from an otherwise completely white curl of fuzz.

Mikhail lightly turned the door handle to Stefan’s office. He didn’t mean to be intruding; if it had been locked, Mikhail would have just waited. Considering he lacked a normal circadian rhythm, he was up, and ready to do work. He eased the door open, taking hold of the frame firmly as he stepped through the threshold. They had gotten quite a lot done the night before, but some things were not as organized as they could have been. The guilt of destroying the medical supplies a day ago still stirred within him, so without much delay, he got started.

It was a simple sorting job, he supposed. One of which Mikhail could do well, in fact. He felt around for what he was looking for—an unsorted herb from last night, or something similar to that, felt it around in his hands, and placed it into its corresponding spot.

Sasha took notice of the entrance immediately. She’d met Mikhail the day before, so she had some familiarity with him, and abstained from leaping onto his face from above. Instead, she uncurled and waddled along to a line of strategically angled shelves, climbing down onto the surface of one of the desks that lined the workstation area of the office. She wasn’t very quiet about it either, thumping with each impact of her bulky body onto each lower surface. An exercise wheel had been on Stefan’s to-find list, but unfortunately, everything that was found was far too small.

When she was level with Mikhail’s sorting, she finished her approach and stood up on her hind legs, nose twitching intensely as she sniffed at him. She didn’t make any vocalizations, but her sniffing was just loud enough to pick up by ear now that she was closer.

Mikhail stopped his sorting when he heard the giant rat banging around on the shelves above. His eyebrows furrowed, and without much thought, he asked to the air, “Stefan?” Albeit, it came out a lot more quietly than he intended to, most likely a force of habit from spending so much time in the wilderness. Stealth was imperative out there, after all.

He stood stock-still as he received no reply, and as the thumping got closer. His hand idly drifted to the shelf he had been placing things in, wondering if there was anything sharp in there he could use for self-defense. Unfortunately, all he could feel was the crunch of dried herbs. The only thing that kept him from bolting was the fact that he knew he was in the base, and therefore, he figured for the most part he would be “safe”.

When the sniffling occurred, Mikhail suddenly realized who it was. “Ahh, Sasha!” he said with a breathy and relieved laugh. He sort of felt out to her to give her a pat, though he wasn’t exactly sure where she was in relation to him. “You gave me a good scare there.”

At first, Sasha was a good half a foot off of Mikhail’s aim, but she scooted herself over to meet his hand when it took more than a second to actually get to her. She enjoyed the pats, remaining still and content until the door opened again. At that point, she moved her head up, resting her chin on Mikhail’s hand to see who else was coming in.

Stefan entered, his longcoat looped over a forearm. While he still had his hat and mask on, they stuck out a bit without the rest of the billowing leather outfit. “Good morning. Mikhail, Sasha.” He hung the coat up on a rack built into the wall next to the door, rolling his shoulders with a grunt. “Any patients in today?” He asked, not really expecting to have to do vigorous work early on. He had no idea what was happening outside yet, either.

Mikhail gave Sasha a satisfying scratch behind the ear once he felt her soft fur under his palm. He enjoyed her much more than her smaller brethren that frequented the Underbelly. When her head left his hand, he looked towards the door, more out of a force of habit than anything else. He felt much better with Sasha at his side.

“Ah, good morning, Stefan,” Mikhail said, signifying a greeting with a small dip of his head. He closed the drawer that he had been storing things in and turned himself towards the doctor. “Um, no. No patients. I wasn’t aware that you served patients in here. What would I have done if someone came in here, bleeding from a head wound?” he asked jokingly. He did have a science background, but was no surgeon. In addition, he was sure he wouldn’t exactly be deft with his hands when it came to stitches.

“Oh, you know. Disinfecting, stitching. Euthanasia if they’re too far gone.” Stefan was only mostly joking with that last bit. “But I don’t treat them in here, oh no. Sasha’s a good pet, but she’s hardly sanitary. And there’s not nearly enough room for a surgical table, or anything of that sort. Those are in the next couple rooms over.” He walked over to the table, giving Sasha a few pets of his own, before he removed his hat and placed it on her head. It was quite oversized, but she stood up and straightened it out a little, so that it hung over her shoulders.

“If all goes well, we’ll be seeing a group that was out on a job come back in today. If anyone is hurt, I’ll need some help. There were quite a few men sent out there.” Stefan hoped that they had all come back. The loss of an ally was always hard on the base’s morale, especially ones that were well-liked. “And we’ll need to check out anything they might have brought back. You never know when a piece of loot might be giving off radiation.”

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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Mon Jan 25, 2016 1:38 am 
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Rock Hammer looked between the wolf man and the others. He could tell that tensions were high. Magpie even told them that the wolf man was something akin to a bandit, a trickster, who would lure people away to be eaten by wolves. Rock Hammer knew some people like him, some who even hurt Rock Hammer. He was thinking of joining the fight and killing the wolf man, but something in Rock Hammer's mind told him not to. A certain... Conscience. The wolf man was a monster, sure. And so was Rock Hammer. And yet despite that, he was treated with kindess and fairness unlike any other time. And this wolf man soon lowered his weapon, asking for help. "He and I are the same." Rock Hammer said to himself. But he still wasn't certain. The Wolf Man was dangerous, certainly. Those beast he had with him did not seem nearly as reasonable as he was, and they seemed to be kin to him. Rock Hammer dind't know what to do. He... He needed someone who could think of a solution. Guide him.

His mind looked for awnsers within the voices. But none gave him anything he could work with. Rambling, monoluges, and Non Sequitur gave Rock Hammer no insight on what he could do. He needed someone smarter than him. Someone who had shown him mercy.

In the back of Rock Hammer's mind, an identidy was forming. A little voice, quiet and latonic, but more bright than the words that normally went through Rock Hammer's head. It was the voice of Liliana. Rock Hammer wanted her advice. "What would she say..."

“He needs help, doesn’t he? We should try to help him. There is no point in fighting, certainly. Say something. Diffuse this.”

Diffuse. She means to calm everyone down. But how would Rock Hammer do that? He's never calmed people down before... They tend to freak out at the sight of him.

“I didn’t freak out. They don’t freak out, not the ones you know. They will listen, if you tell them what you think, what you want. You can be the voice of reason. Ask her to lower the gun. Tell him that you will help.”

Rock Hammer was nervous. Liliana told him what to do, but it's not something he's ever done before. He's good at smashing things, and putting stuff together. However... She took the risk being nice to him. He needs to follow her example.

Gathering his courage together Rock hammer walked forward. And doing something he's never done before, he sheathed his Rock Hammer onto his back, leaving only the bear meat in his hand. "Wait." Rock Hammer said, clearly over all the others. "Do not shoot. Listen to me: I will watch him. Trust Viktor. He knows me, and I will make sure this one does not hurt anyone." Rock Hammer moved towards the man, his footsteps leaving deep prints in the snow. He stayed about ten feet away from the man and his wolves, in case they attack him. But he did extend one of his bear steaks towards them, letting the somewhat aged aroma waft to them. Hopefully they don't think that Rock Hammer is the food.

"I am Rock Hammer. Who are you, and will you trust me?"

"Well done. Whatever happens, you did the right thing. Thank you."

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I, Freeshooter92, from here on out through my entirety of my time here on this website, hereby solemnly swear my undying loyalty to LuciusCypher. I, Freeshooter92, will always be at his commands without question or resistance, and I will stand by his side and oppose his enemies. I, Freeshooter92, denounce any other who would attempt to sway me, as I will only be loyal to the one and only LuciusCypher, or so help me that he may do whatever he desires with my body and soul. And so I, Freeshooter92, declare that I have chosen out of my own freewill to follow LuciusCypher and no other, and that I will be both his loyal servant and dedicated friend.


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I, Doodleniks, from here on out through my entirety of my time here on this website, hereby solemnly swear my undying loyalty to LuciusCypher. I, Doodleniks, will always be at his commands without question or resistance, and I will stand by his side and oppose his enemies. I, Doodleniks denounce any other who would attempt to sway me, as I will only be loyal to the one and only LuciusCypher, or so help me that he may do whatever he desires with my body and soul. And so I, Doodleniks declare that I have chosen out of my own freewill to follow LuciusCypher and no other, and that I will be both his loyal servant and dedicated friend.


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I, Shadowed, from here on out through my entirety of my time here on this website, hereby solemnly swear my undying loyalty to LuciusCypher. I,Shadowed, will always be at his commands without question or resistance, and I will stand by his side and oppose his enemies. I, Shadowed, denounce any other who would attempt to sway me, as I will only be loyal to the one and only LuciusCypher, or so help me that he may do whatever he desires with my body and soul. And so I, Shadowed, declare that I have chosen out of my own freewill to follow LuciusCypher and no other, and that I will be both his loyal servant and dedicated friend.

Join me... And fulfill the oath.

And the blanks with your Username.

I, _______, from here on out through my entirety of my time here on this website, hereby solemnly swear my undying loyalty to LuciusCypher. I, _______, will always be at his commands without question or resistance, and I will stand by his side and oppose his enemies. I, _______, denounce any other who would attempt to sway me, as I will only be loyal to the one and only LuciusCypher, or so help me that he may do whatever he desires with my body and soul. And so I, _______, declare that I have chosen out of my own freewill to follow LuciusCypher and no other, and that I will be both his loyal servant and dedicated friend.


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 2:04 am 
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At Viktor’s dismissal of the situation, Inga opened her mouth to protest, but her voice died on the way to her mouth. Something in the way his face was set told her not to push it. She might think it would be better for them to try and resolve the situation- and maybe part of her just wanted to see what would happen- but Viktor’s face was one of irritated exhaustion that reminded her of when her parents were pushed too hard by her and the rest of their family. On some days when she was especially petulant she might prod them into a full blown argument, but it wasn’t something she would try now- especially not with Viktor, who, even though he had saved her life multiple times, she barely knew. She swallowed her comment and allowed herself to be ushered inside.

Her entrance at the front of the group immediately put her at the center of attention, and Inga immediately remembered all of her oddities. Even back in that first village, Inga had felt out of place- here it was even worse. Children were clearly an unusual sight. She swallowed and prepared to make a face, when Viktor entered behind them, and the group’s focus pulled away from her. Silently grateful, Inga tried to melt back into the group, although she felt like that was a lost cause at this point. Still, with the rest of the group, she followed Viktor to his room in the base.

Inga took in the room silently. It was of bigger size than she would have expected, although she wasn’t quite sure why- but she could still picture Viktor living here. Unsure of where she should be, Inga stood in the middle of the room, glancing all around.


Outside the base, Magpie snorted lightly at the wolf man’s stilted pleas. His hand slipping into his pocket was subtle from a distance, but hopefully the Stalkers weren’t dense enough to miss it at closer range. She didn’t move her head when Darina spoke up, but she listened to her, then shrugged slowly. “Fair enough,” she said, slinging her gun back over her shoulder. “I warned you all, now you can deal with whatever trouble he’s bringing here.” She turned away, and after a few moments Tiny turned to follow.

As she walked away towards the entrance, though, Magpie was surprised to see Rock Hammer approach the group, with an apparent attempt at calming the situation. For some reason, the giant meat wearing man did not strike her as a grand choice for a peacekeeper, but she admired the attempt, bizarre as it may be. She nodded her head at it, then said to Darina, “you going to help out with him? You’re one of the few people I’ve seen who willingly spend time around him, for whatever reason.” Magpie didn’t want anything to do with him, frankly- he seemed to be an intriguing mystery, and in her experience investigating those led to personal harm without too much reward. She continued her walk towards the base entrance, curious in spite of herself to see what was inside.


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 7:41 am 
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In one of the Stalker barracks, a man gave a protesting groan as he was nudged awake by one of his dogs. Reaching out with one arm, the man blindly groped around in the dark until he found the switch to the battery-powered light hanging from the bunk above him. The light flickered on, and he had to squint his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light before taking in his surroundings.

The room was the inside of what was once a shipping container, one hunk of the wall carved open to open to a wooden addition to the room to allow for more space for the three beds inside. Maps covered corrugated metal walls and furs covered the floor. Flat pieces of scrap metal was welded to the walls to form makeshift shelves. There were two dogs from his vantage point, one on his bed with him and another curled up on the floor. The third was out of his sight, but likely in its favorite spot under his bed. The dog that had woken him up looked at him expectantly.

Giving a sigh, Nikita pushed off his covers, revealing folds of excess skin that started to wrap themselves around his body as he got out of bed, neatly getting out of the way. He side-stepped a dog and reached for the upper bunk, where he had been keeping food for his dogs ever since his roommate had gone off on a year long expedition three months ago. He fetched a couple of cans, opened them, and set them on the ground.

Nikita sat back down on his bed. He'd gotten back a couple days ago from a three day trip where he'd barely slept, and any time not spent eating the last two days had been spent catching on lost sleep. His room didn't have any windows to tell the time of day, but his other roommate appeared to have already gotten up. Might as well follow suit. There was at least five days of gossip to catch up on.

After loosely binding his skin in cloth and putting more warm clothing on top, the mutant exited the small room and headed towards the main base. The faint glow of the sun could be seen from behind the clouds. One of his dogs, Napoleon, followed him. He moved past the hydroponics greenhouse and fumbled with the lock to a side door, slipping in. After a few turns, he was in the lounge.

There were a few people in the room, who all gave him a friendly nod of acknowledgement. Nikita was about to plop himself down and start chatting, when the commotion out front caught his eye. He opened the door to take a look. Not one of them seemed familiar. New people? How exciting.

It was just so then he noticed a rather pointy woman making her way to the door. She had a scar over her eyebrow and this rather harsh look to her. Nikita couldn't wait to meet her.

"Hello!" he called out to her, the corners of his mouth disappearing up into folds of skin. "What's your name?"


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
View Likes PostPosted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 12:26 pm 
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Darina snorted at Magpie's query, pointing a thumb at Rock Hammer. "I'm not that much of a martyr," she said, "and I'd like to think the Big Guy over there has got it covered. If he can't handle it, eh. We'll all be dead anyway." Honestly, she was surprised to see Rock Hammer actually resorting to anything else besides smashing this latest obstacle. It was a pleasant surprise, reminding her that this wasn't some mindless golem but someone who really was--and, from the look of it, might still be--a human being. Projecting your hopes, are we? she thought, wanting to roll her eyes at herself. She had just eaten a dead human being not long ago; it was about time she revised where the boundaries of humanity lay.

She backed away, then turned to Rock Hammer, giving him a thumbs-up. "If he tries anything, we could have him for dinner," she remarked, then grimacing at how flippant she had made that sound. She really was growing rather fond of him, she mused. For now, though, the fact that all she brought to a gunfight was a good nose rankled at her, and it was about time she remedied that. Besides, she was eager to see the insides of this Stalker base. Not many bandits could claim having breached the walls of such a well-defended territory--or, well, not without having gone through a skirmish.

Feeling the straps of her backpack digging into her shoulders, she wondered how she was going to go about the barter. Would they even be receptive to her? She could see that the Stalkers eyed the newcomers intently, and with good reason, though their attentiveness at least ranged from curiosity to wariness. None of them looked like they would creep into their bunks in the middle of the night and stab them. Yet. The image of Scott's defiled corpse flashed in her memory, and Darina winced. Who knew what people could be capable of? At least she and Rock Hammer bore no ill will towards the man they had consumed, and she didn't find any sort of relish in being around to witness his final moments.

Not really wanting to dwell on that again, Darina thought of the two vials of absinthe she had but immediately dismissed the idea of trading one for ammo. Nossir, not on her life. It was stupid, foolish, really, to keep them when there could be more practical things she could trade them for, but if she could hang onto any piece of her old life, let it at least be those. Darina sighed, approaching the nearest sentry. "We're with Viktor," she began, wondering what the proper register of voice was to indicate something between humbly-asking-for-help and still-won't-trade-that-for-sex. Well, maybe I could, if I have to. "I, uh, was wondering if you had any ammo to spare for a pistol of this make."
She unholstered her weapons and, taking a risk, handed it to the Stalker, who was now joined by another fellow.
"Dunno, lady," the sentry said, scratching his neck as his comrade inspected it. Darina tried not to twitch at the annoying pet name he had given her, "we know you're with Viktor, we saw you come in and he'd probably vouch for you, but we're not sure how much we can afford to release to newcomers."
"We can talk to Viktor and have it straightened out, but it might take a while to get the approvals," the other said, returning her weapon, "how soon do you need it?"
"Soon," Darina replied, reholstering her gun, "tell you what. If it would help, I can pull my own weight around here. I'm a pretty good watch. When's your shift?"
The two men looked at each other. "Well, I'm perimeter guard for the remainder of the day," he said cautiously, "was just heading out to see to a disturbance in the woods that one of our outposts had reported."
"Good! I can take your shift," Darina said, putting on a big smile, "then maybe you could help me with the supplies. And, uh," she cleared her throat, "if you can throw a knife into the deal, it would be great."

So here she was, freezing her ass off on the outskirts of the village, rather than inside the warehouse, sitting cozily in front of a fire as she had imagined her new comrades were doing at the moment, with a ridiculous image of Rock Hammer roasting one of his slabs of meat-armor for the wolf-man. Why'd I agree to this, anyway? she thought sullenly, making her way to the outpost, listening to the crunch of snow and underbrush as she trudged through the thicket. She knew why, though; when she had approached the Stalkers, she suddenly realized why she felt such an urgent need to find a weapon. She needed to hunt. Her stomach was growling.

The perimeter guards mentioned hearing a disturbance and seeing some dark form lurking some ways into the thicket not long ago, and they had been on alert ever since. Whatever it was, it had slunk back into the shadows, hiding and keeping well away from the path that wound its way through the woods and led down to the Stalker village. There was no sign of an attack from a large contingent, no other indications of other intruders. It must have been an animal, some said, while others thought that whatever it was had perhaps fled upon seeing the outpost. We'll see about that.

They gave her a knife, thankfully. Not as good as her old ones, but it should suffice. Rather than climb up to join the other perimeter guards in their tower, she went alone, picking her way through the bushes and roots and making as little noise as possible, until she found what she was looking for, a tree high enough to provide her with both cover and a good vantage point. She scanned the branches first, plotting her way up, then she started her ascent, deftly climbing up the tree, making sure the branches she picked would hold her weight.

Darina was about midway when her head jerked towards the right, 2-o-clock, the way it did earlier when the wolf-man entered the scene. This time, her stomach growled. Fresh blood. Her eyes changed color, the way it did at the height of her Hunger, as they found more tell-tale signs of a presence: disturbed branches, from trees that were in the same direction as the smell that enticed her now. She squinted, her gaze following this subtle trail. Calming herself, she took a few deep breaths, reminding herself that she had to report back to the outpost first before beginning the hunt.

Her climb down was much faster, though she wasn't sure if it was because she knew the way down or because she wanted to get on with it. One of the sentries had already gone to meet her at the base of the tree, and in hushed tones she told him what she saw. Nothing definitive, but something definitely was out there, was in the trees, and was perhaps watching them until they scared it away.


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Thu Feb 04, 2016 3:09 am 

eyy, senpai!

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Viktor appreciated the compliment, and gave Darren a small smile and nod. "Thanks. Built this setup myself, mostly. The wood, I got some help with, but all the important things were made right here." He pushed himself off the wall when Darren set the dead man's backpack on the table, rolling his shoulders before getting to work unloading everything. Magazines and boxes of ammunition, general supplies like food and water, a map, compass, camping gear, a high-quality knife, a filtered breathing device, and a wad of money. Viktor briefly considered how good a haul this was, but knowing where it had come from soured the chances of celebration a bit.

"Anyone hungry?" He asked, holding up a small bag of what was some sort of dried mystery meat. While there was business at hand, Viktor could most definitely go for some food. His fatigue was in part due to a lack of sustenance since leaving for the job in the first place, but he was used to going without enough that he could stave off the uncomfortable emptiness in his gut for at least a while longer. He instead laid out everything they'd gotten from the bag, and moved the bag itself aside. It was pretty nice, not beaten up and able to hold quite a lot. Definitely worth keeping around.

Out of everything, Viktor chose one thing in particular for the taking: the rifle. His own was still in good shape, and was a reliable gun, but it was of primitive design and lacked the proper frame to accept modifications. This new one though, it came with quite a few add-ons, and even better, it was lighter. He took the empty rifle, devoid of a magazine, and shouldered it to test how it felt. It was very comfortable, and the sights were an interesting addition. While a scope was nice to have, he questioned the viability for mid-to-close range shooting - until he noticed a pair of small metal addons mounted on the rails behind the scope and up near the barrel.

Changing his stance, he flipped both into upward positions and then shouldered the rifle again, tilting it at an angle that brought them into his main aiming viewpoint. Offset sights certainly helped the range issue, and he had to admit, tilting the gun just made him feel cool. With a slight look of amusement, he went on to test other aspects of the gun, namely the charging handle, by pulling it back and mimicking the motions he'd need to perform with it after reloading. Finally, he unscrewed the suppressor, looked it over for damage, and put it back on.

Once he was done toying around with the gun, he set it back down next to his other rifle, taking the ammunition that was meant to be used with it. The extra boxes of pistol ammo were sectioned off for Liliana, while the rest was pretty much a free-for-all. Out of curiosity, Viktor also picked up the compass. In stark contrast to most of the gear, it was very old looking, as if it had already been an antique before the world's end. A dull brass case with slightly scuffed glass beneath the lid contained a white face with old world Cyrillic writing. It was a bit different than what one would see nowadays, but still easily decipherable. What made the old piece even odder was the fact that the needle was endlessly spinning in a circle, as if it was broken somehow. Viktor silently mused that he would take the thing to another person on base to see if they could fix it, and as he did so, the needle suddenly stopped and pointed out of the room's door, a direction that was distinctly not to the north.

His brows furrowed a bit, and as he eyed the compass for a few moments longer, the needle began to spin again. "Huh. Gonna need to have the doc look at this." What had previously just been an old oddity was now an object of interest, and to keep it safe, he stowed it in the button-sealed pouch pocket on his leg. Addressing the others, he spoke up again. "Alright, let's get something to eat. Maybe a few drinks. It's been a hell of a time the past few days. We've earned some rest."

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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Sun Feb 07, 2016 1:15 am 

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So much activity seemed to burst from the concrete fortress. Shouting came from farther up the road, presumably the entrance into the small settlement, and the rifleman from the guard tower shot twice more into the brush and called for help. The man clung to the shadows of the forest. His wounds tore at his attention and he wasn't sure how much longer he could stave off unconsciousness… Or… Perhaps something worse.

It was light, but its presence was unmistakable. The prescient awareness that he had come to know as "The Hunger" lay like the predator it was all around his psyche. It wanted him to give in, to let it take over. It waited until he was weak before it attempted its ferocious assault of his mind. The man fell forward as he ran deeper into the foliage. His bloodied arm caught itself in a thorn bush and he felt flesh and blood tear away from him. The thorns drank greedily of his essence. The hunger pressed into his mind, lashing him with psychic violence. The man struggled fervently to remember his name.

"I!" He shouted in the face of the malevolent beast that called his mind home. "I am Halak!" His voice filled the forest around him. The natural camouflage his body produced began to breakdown under his mental strain. Patches of broken skin and torn clothing became visible from the thin air that was already there.

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This thing is my resume! Reeeeaad iiiiiit...


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
View Likes PostPosted: Sun Feb 07, 2016 1:34 am 

It is a hollow shell of what it once was.

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After some time in his room, giving the group a chance to take what they wanted before leading everyone out and locking up, Viktor decided to head to the lounge and get some much needed rest. With his gear off, he felt more relaxed than he had the entire previous few days. It was heavy enough as is, but with all the **** they'd been doing, it only ended up feeling weightier on him. He was glad to be free of it, at least for a while, and decided it was time to relax a bit.

After locking up, he made his way through the halls of the base. The warehouse had been almost entirely reconstructed on the inside, and while the interior walls were a bit thin, rooms made from shipping containers, wooden planks, and sheet metal alike gave it a varied, lived-in feel. It was far from the empty building that had been come across in the distant past, and was a proper place that the Stalkers could call their home. Viktor made his way back into the first room, the lounge.

Couches and tables spotted the area, while a bar had been set up to sell drinks to those who weren't about to go out on business. And after that last mission, did he ever need a goddamned drink. He approached, leaning onto the wooden tabletop as he eyed the selection behind the counter. It was all very familiar homemade things. Moonshine, vodka, and that syrupy-tasting concotion one got from boiling and fermenting the toxic sap of Redwood trees. That was a popular one. He was about to call for the bartender's attention before a younger Stalker approached, setting a box of bottles next to him.

Instead, he looked it over, taking interest in a tall bottle filled with a liquid that resembled whiskey, but was marked with a label around the neck that depicted a mushroom. It was clearly hand-drawn, and the quality of it was left to the imagination. But it was something new, and the things common around base got old after a while. Looking up to the deliverer, he asked a simple question. "Hey, what's in that bottle?"

The courier looked down, confused for half a moment before an answer came out. "Oh, that's some extreme ****, boss. I don't think anyone is supposed to-"

"Dibs." Viktor snatched the bottle up, drew a few rubles from his jacket's breast pocket, and passed them off to the Stalker before he could finish. He also grabbed a pair of small glasses from the bartop, then strolled off to find himself a seat.

"...Drink that," The other Stalker finished. With pursed lips, he considered going after Viktor, then just shrugged and picked the case up after his arms got a bit of rest. "Doc's not gonna be happy about this," He quietly mused, entering the door that led to the base's infirmary.


Darren stretched, feeling even older than he actually was, as he stared at his handiwork. It was a good tent, not particularly large, but it didn't look like it would be falling over any time soon. The Stalker he'd requested it from had given him a dubious stare, but after a moment the young, redheaded man had simply shrugged and brought it out for him. He understood his confusion; it wasn't normal for a person to choose camping outside in this kind of weather, given the option to remain indoors with the sane people. But then again, since when was Darren normal in any capacity?

He unzipped the flaps and threw in the sleeping bag, and was wondering if he should give the squishy blue roll a test-drive when he caught movement at the corner of his eye. He turned on the spot, leaving behind the small home he'd erected for himself in a dark corner near one of the base's warehouses. It was a woman, a Stalker, one he'd never seen before.

She was fairly young, especially compared to him, with platinum blonde hair long enough to just barely reach her shoulders. She had an average build and was strikingly pretty - most noticeably, though, was a disfiguring scar running from the center of her right cheek down to her jawline. He stared out at her for a moment, and she paused, obviously in the middle of doing something important. She looked back at him for a moment, and he took a step towards her, a broad smile on his lips, before she abruptly turned and walked away, moving faster than before. It reminded him very strongly of when he'd first spoken to Liliana. Hard to believe he actually used to be a ladies man.

"Well ****," he rasped out loud to no one in particular, as he once again regarded his tent. Maybe a nap wasn't a bad idea after all. Then again, it was a very long time since he’d had a drink. And given all the activity of the last couple of days, the timing probably couldn’t be better.

He eyed the nearby entry into the warehouse, deciding he wanted to pay a visit to that bar he'd seen on the initial way in. He limped through the doorway, eyeing the bar; before making his way over, he noticed a familiar face at once of the tables near him.

“Viktor! Lovely day, eh Boss?” he asked, smiling as he regarded the Stalker who’d led him out of the Underbelly.


"That's one word for it," Viktor answered, returning Darren's smile. Lovely wasn't his first choice of word, but hell, at least most of them were alive and they'd made it back to safety. "Want a drink?" As he offered, he put a glass forward, and poured some of the dubious liquid into them both. It didn't smell too bad, with a sort of pleasant earthiness to it that suggested a nice feeling of warmth despite the actual temperature of the bottle after being delivered through such cold weather. After he returned the cap to the bottle, he scooted it toward the side of the table and took his glass, giving the liquid a smell.

As well as the mushroom on the label, the bottle contained a few caps that settled on the bottom. Viktor didn't recognize the species, but figured it was just a fancy garnish of sorts, as the bartender sometimes added to things that the Stalkers drank. Normally, they weren't fungus, but he wasn't complaining. Viktor took his glass and took a sip from it, and evidently, approved of the taste. It wasn't quite like anything he'd had before, and honestly didn't taste much like alcohol. There was barely even a burn going down. "Hm, not bad. Gonna need to figure out what this stuff is called, make a double order next time."

He leaned back to relax in his seat, unzipping his jacket a bit. The warming feeling of having a stiff drink was inevitable, and he was wearing enough layers to give someone a heat stroke. Between the heavy military jacket and the turtleneck worn under that, he was almost more well-insulated than the base's actual walls. "So, what's up?" Another sip was taken after the casual question, after which he felt a little funny. Not drunk, not after a mere two sips, but...different. His expression changed for a moment, brows furrowed a little, and he cleared his throat just the slightest amount.


"****, that's what I came in here for," he rasped as he sat heavily down across from Viktor, noticing an ominous creaking of his chair as he did so. "Thanks for the offer. I only just realized I can't even buy myself a drink, lost the last of my funds playing dice with some kid in the Underbelly. Little bastard cheated, I know it," he added as he raised his glass, sniffing the contents with a curious expression. "Looks kinda like scotch, smells a bit like dirt, but… hey, here's to you, man," he said, raising the drink slightly before taking a sip. He swallowed, surprised by the lack of a burn, and stared back into the liquid, intrigued. "That's smooth, man. Like, really smooth. You have good taste, friend," he said, as he followed up with something closer to a gulp than a sip.

Darren had a fairly high tolerance, but impossible as it was, he actually thought he was starting to feel something. It must've been quadruple distilled to be so strong, yet, if that was the case he was sure it would've scorched all the way down. Then again, he wasn't even sure if what he was feeling was even a buzz - regardless, he decided he liked it. Even with only a hooded sweatshirt on his torso he was starting to feel a bit warm; he could only imagine what the poor soul across from him was going through.

He mirrored Viktor's movement, lounging back in his chair, and grinned contentedly as he swirled the contents of his glass around. "What's up? Well, nothing, and that is both great and confusing. This is a great place, feels safe here, and I can't thank you enough for bringing my scarred ass to it. But It's strange not having anything to worry about for once. I'm sure I'll get used to it though," he croaked as he stared amiably around at his surroundings. "If I'm given the chance."

He let one of his hands drop below the table, and he felt something bulging in his pants. There was a moment of confusion, then he remembered that he’d absentmindedly stuffed his makeshift checkerboard into a pocket while setting up his tent. He drew it out and flattened it out onto the table’s surface, which was now swaying slightly, for some reason. He didn’t know if he intended to play or not, or if Viktor would even want to, but it just felt like the right thing to do.

“Up for it?”


Viktor raised his drink as well, just for that spirit of celebration. That, and having someone dedicate a drink to his honor was amusing. Letting such an opportunity go to waste would be a damn shame. "And to not getting our asses killed out in that shitstorm," He added, taking a drink as well. The smoothness was still odd for what was apparently alcohol, but it made it easier to down a bit more. But that larger drink only intensified his feeling of oddity. He blinked a few times, somewhat slowly, but brushed it off as fatigue and simply not being used to the drink yet. It would fade soon enough, probably.

He laughed a little at the other man's explanation, finding it oddly humorous. "Yeah, man, no problem. That part can take some getting used to. You should see the rookies that come in; greener than grass and constantly afraid that something's gonna knock the walls down and collapse the whole warehouse down on us. Takes them weeks to finally realize they can calm down." There weren't any conveniently-placed new Stalkers to put onto the spot for the sake of an example, as far as he could tell, but then everyone else started to look a teeny bit fuzzy from where he was sitting. Yeah, definitely fatigue, he thought, shaking his head a little. If he didn't sleep well after all they'd been through, he'd be ****

"What's that?" Viktor asked, curious about what the sack of stones was as Darren moved it towards the table. His answer came soon enough, though. A check pattern and a collection of fairly uniform rocks in two colours showed off the intentions as a game, one Viktor enjoyed playing whenever possible. Finding a fully intact set was hard these days, but homemade ones in the vein of Darren's weren't terribly rare in some establishments. Hell, a game sounded great right about now. Taking another swig, he reduced his glass's contents to about half, then wriggled out of his jacket, letting it hang over his chair's backrest, then began to gather the black stones toward his side of the 'board.' "Yeah, let's play."


"Yeah, let's play."

The words echoed, as if being spoken from within a cavernous space, but Darren ignored it, nodding happily as he began gathering the smooth white stones towards his side of the makeshift board. The board itself was starting to act up, hitching itself up in several places when he wasn't expecting it, but aside from the occasional startled jump he handled the bizarre behavior fairly well. He didn't remember the cloth being able to move, but he'd seen stranger things, he supposed. He felt a dryness spreading from the back of his throat to the tip of his tongue, and so he quickly downed his drink before pouring more for himself and Viktor, stopping halfway through to wait for the room to stop churning quite so violently. He was sure he wasn't drunk; he'd barely finished one glass, after all, but there was no denying the strangeness of what he was experiencing.

With an effort he finished moving the pieces into place and squinted up at the man across from him, blinking rapidly as he struggled to keep things in focus. "Your move, Stanker. Stalker. Sorry. This **** is-"

He stopped, gaping at the bottle in shock. "It's got munchrooms in it? That's… that's incredible!" He smiled toothily at the sight; it was a wonderful thing, drinking mushrooms, though he couldn't exactly explain why. Maybe it had something to do with nature. Yes, that was it. Nature was ****ing awesome.


And then their game began. And this is what they believe happened.


This is what actually happened:



As Viktor finished the last of his remaining drink, he began to arrange his side of the board, lining up stones on the spaces on the cloth. He looked distressed and a little sick, his already pale skintone becoming a tad sickly as sweat started to bead on his forehead. His stomach churned uncomfortably, nauseous and on the verge of vomiting, and goosebumps covered his skin. Still, despite it all, he managed to make a few moves, lightly nudging one of the stones on his side of the board forward.

He attempted communication with Darren, trying to ask for another drink, but he just lazily waved a hand in the general direction of the bottle and grunted.


Darren panted, feeling very hot, and somewhat claustrophobic as the game stretched on. He felt a dry heave, and then his throat flared up, parched - he looked at the bottle, but it quickly became three as he reached for it.

He blinked, then squinted, and finally managed to pour out two more drinks, though a great deal spilled onto the table. He turned back to the checker game and felt his head rushing to meet the table. He stopped himself right before colliding with the checkerboard, but then the game itself quickly became an indistinct haze of stones and cloth.

He went to tell Viktor it was his turn to move, but all he managed was to stare at the other man and make a small choking sound, jerking his head at the table as he clumsily took another drink, spilling half of it on himself.


Viktor seemed to understand the vague gestures well enough, and as his hand hovered over the checkerboard, he stared into it with a deep intensity. His brows furrowed and unfurrowed repeatedly, and he blinked with an uneven pace, going for minutes without any blinking before a sudden influx of rapid ones. He put his hand down in an attempt to grab one of his checkers, and instead just sort of patted the cloth, then stared up at Darren. There was a strange focus to the stare, cut off suddenly when he averted his gaze and covered his ears.

Resting his head on the table, he clapsed his hands over them at first, then let his forehead hit the tabletop, squeezing his ears shut with his general elbow area while his hands grasped at the back of his head, one in particular instinctively grabbing a handful of hair and keeping a tight hold.

But just as suddenly as he reacted in fear, suddenly everything was good. He sat up again, smiling vacantly and not really looking at anyone or anything.


Darren screwed up his face as he watched Viktor covering his ears; he suddenly became aware of something bad, though he wasn't sure what it was. He fell from his chair, covering his head up, enveloping it in his arms, and then abruptly, the pain stopped and he stared up, giggling uncontrollably as joy overwhelmed him.

He stared up at something past Viktor and smiled, before clutching blindly at the table overhead, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig from it before setting it down on the floor under the table. His expression, as he continued staring at nothing in particular, soon went from one of joy to fear.


Darren's laughter proved infectious, as the already-smiling Viktor joined in with some goofy chuckling of his own. He relaxed, a bit too much, and ended up sliding right out of his chair and onto the floor. He landed face down and just kind of stayed there for a while, before rolling onto his side and taking the bottle. A quick splash of its remaining contents landed over his mouth, chin, and parts of the rest of his face, and the mostly-empty bottle was then dropped, rolling away from him.

When he noticed (if his state of mind was lucid enough to notice) Darren's fear, he put a hand out in an attempt to quell him, and then began mimicking the motions of playing on a guitar. Some other nearby Stalkers noticed and took great concern, with at least a few coming over to check, asking if they were alright.


The voices tumbled through Darren's mind; he heard a roaring cacophony of chaotic sound, and he roared in response, although it came out like more of a whimper (it sounded badass to him though). He heard the whispers of the enemy and immediately began playing the drums, via flailing his arms, slamming his hands into the table overhead and the floor underneath.

There was no discernible rhythm, but after a time the voices around him grew more severe as the people watching became more concerned. He shouted, in a string of words that weren't words, and heard the soft whisper of more voices behind him as more people gathered. He took solace from those voices, finally smiling a little as he continued hitting everything around him.


Viktor was in a similar state, flailing his arms rapidly in the motions of what was best comparable to a child trying to air guitar. His leg flung out and knocked over a chair, and as another Stalker tried to hold down his shoulders, he flailed a hand right at his face and just sort of limp-wristedly slapped around at him. And then, Viktor started crying, though with all the sweat it was hard to actually tell.

Another Stalker nearby noticed the bottle and picked it up, putting on an expression that read "are you ****ing kidding me" as he realized what it was. A quick flash of the mushroom to the others later, and he was gone, off to find the base's doctor, and to tear the rookie courier who had been on the job a new butthole for letting a bottle go.


The voices lessened in volume and Darren let out a shout of joy; victorious, he moved to spring up from the ground in triumph, but instead hit his head on the table and staggered to one side. The people who caught him held him up, but then he fought out of their grip and flopped onto the table, flipping it over onto him.

With the table on top of him he spasmed, his body jerking violently, and then he was still, weeping uncontrollably as if struck by an all-encompassing sadness that could not be allayed.


In stark contrast to Darren injuring himself with furniture, Viktor just sort of flopped into an unresponsive state, remaining still on the floor for a while, staring aimlessly up at the ceiling while breathing heavily. A hand clasped at his chest, as if trying to grab at something, before he just rolled over and curled into a ball, no longer making any sounds or motions.

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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 8:04 pm 

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Just like that, he giant mammoth of a man stepped in and took claim of him. The female whom he was partial to lowered her weapon and walked off, as well as another female who seemed to have a special gift to know what he had in his pocket. Carefully, he released his hold on the explosives and took the offered steak eagerly. The wolves at his back snarled in protest but he was quick to growl right back at them. Though short lived they backed off long enough for him to eat some before he rewarded them with tossing the remains to them, caring not how they fought over it.

“I’m Ruffus,” he said with the blood still fresh on his face. “Thank you, RockHammer. I owe life,” a sharp pain in his side reminded him of why he had braved this group in the first place. “Uh…help? Hurt?” he asked not sure of what to do next but he knew he would have to stick close to the giant if he was to live in this world. Behind him, the wolves fought some more and he was forced to intervene to restore peace. Growls, snarls and barred teeth exchanged with a tense moment of him thinking that they might turn on him they finally settled down. “You have more meat?”

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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 11:53 pm 
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Rock Hammer nodded to the man as he responded. "Good. I don't want to fight. Too much fighting. I just want to eat, maybe build." He said to himself, though his low, rather booming voice wasn't hard to hear. The man, Ruffus, was still injured. Rock Hammer didn't know how to fix wounds, but perhaps Liliana did. After all she did help Rock Hammer with his chewed up abdomen when they first met. Perhaps she could do the same? As for Ruffus's request for more meat, Rock Hammer leaned closer to him and looked him in the eyes. This wasn't meant to be hostile, he was just checking to see if Ruffus was blind. Rock Hammer was quite obviously wearing a butcher bear, meat and all, as crude clothing/armor. Without another word Rock hammer tossed a few chunks of meat that was warming up on his chest towards the wolves, hopefully being enough to pacify their hunger.

Without further adieu, Rock Hammer lead Ruffus into the Stalker Base. Those at the entrance saw Rock Hammer and allowed him and Ruffs through, though they kept their weapons ready in the event either one of them proves to be hostile. When they entered the bigger common room, nearly everyone stopped and stared. A few even picked up their weapons and looked like they were going to fight. Fortunately some of the guards had the mind to tell everyone else about Rock Hammer and his guests, so while they were understandably uneasy around the giant, the feral outsider, and his wolf pets, all they did was be on guard. Rock Hammer approached one of the stalkers who didn't have a weapon on hand, who seemed rather at ease around Rock Hammer. Perhaps this one was simply used to strange sights?

"I need to find Liliana. She... Has bright hair. Green eyes. She was with Viktor."

The stalker thought about it and responded. "Eeeeh... I think I might have seen someone like that. Viktor I saw on my way here, can't say I've seen the lass though. Why you lookin' for her?"

Rock Hammer pointed towards Ruffus and his wound. The stalker nodded his head and pointed down a hall. "I don't know where your friend is, but if you're looking for the doc just go down this hall. Soon you'll find a big, sorta clean room. Talk to Stefan: he's got a long coat and a funny looking face. Long nose and stuff." The stalk pantomimed a beak where his nose was, and while this made Rock Hammer a bit confused, he decided to go look for this Stefan. While he wanted to find Liliana instead, if this person could heal Ruffus than it would have to due. Rock Hammer continued to lead Ruffus through the Stalker base, making sure that the man and his wolves never left Rock Hammer's immediate vicinity.

While gaining many stares from others, Rock Hammer eventually found the doctor's office. It looked cleaner than other parts of the base, though that was a low bar. At least it was sterile. Inside Rock Hammer saw a fairly tall person with a coat that went all the way to the ground. He turned his head and wore a mask that made him look like a bird.

"Are you Stefan?"

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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Mon Feb 15, 2016 7:43 am 

eyy, senpai!

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Stefan turned his head toward the office door when he was addressed by an unfamiliar voice. His head then turned upward, so that he made eye contact with Rock. His head tilted slightly, the motion emphasized by the length of the mask hanging off his face, clearly somewhat interested in the newcomer's appearance. "I don't think we've met," He joked. An actual answer came not too long afterward, and he offered the giant a gloved hand. "Yes, I am. I don't suppose you need medical assistance?"

As it turned out, it wasn't so much the giant man as the scrawny, filth-covered one accompanying him. Quite a contrasting pair. Stefan wasted absolutely no time in getting them where they needed to be, namely in the room next to where he actually made the medicines and kept his files. "Mikhail, if you would lend a hand, we've got some patients. Sasha, stay here." He approached the doorway, but Rock's size prevented him from exiting it directly. Not a problem for him, as a quick teleport took him into the hall. A puff of black smoke appeared where he stood, and was gone in an instant, and he now stood directly in front of Ruffus.

Stefan leaned forward, his eyes just visible under the lenses of his mask at the angle he stood at. Immediately, he could tell that the man wasn't in amazing shape. Lacerations, swelling, inflammation of the skin. Frankly, he looked pretty ****ing up. "You're lucky you showed up here. A few more days of trying to rough that out, you'd be dead. Come." He turned around swiftly, and walked to the door next to his office's. A larger room, set up with some rudimentary medical equipment awaited. A few wooden frames and repurposed coat racks made up beds and IV stands, while desks and cases lining the walls were filled with prepared medicines and first aid supplies. A pipe lining the wall brought water to a large plastic basin, the spout resembling that of a tap one would see in a garden.

"Pick a seat and make yourself comfortable. First things first, we need to clean you up - both of you. You've got all kinds of dirt in your wounds, and your, ah, 'outfit' smells like it's starting to rot. I'd get rid of whatever's left. Trust me, you can find better here." Stefan removed his gloves and rested them on the tabletop, using the sink to clean off his hands, scrubbing the scarred, uneven skin to make sure he was clean before he went and started operating on someone. Gathering some supplies, he approached the bed that Ruffus had chosen - and just then, a group of Stalkers burst through the door, carrying Viktor and Darren in from their escapades in the lounge.

"...And what happened to them?" He asked, again tilting his head when he noticed that the scaly-skinned stranger was crying. Viktor, in stark contrast, looked as if he was about to have a heart attack. Stefan put his supplies down and raised a finger to Ruffus, signaling that he needed to take a moment to see what happened to the others.

One of the other Stalkers, who helped put Viktor onto a bed, answered by raising the empty bottle of mushroom juice that they had consumed. Stefan took one look at it, then lowered his head and pinched the bridge of the mask's beak in obvious frustration. It lasted only a moment, as he knew he had to work fast to prevent further damage to either of the two. He couldn't imagine they'd had a pleasant experience, as toxic mutant fungi that affected the nervous system could leave one rather permanently damaged.

Stefan immediately gathered two small vials of a clear liquid, corked at the top to keep them sealed. The others, anticipating what was coming next, gathered a pair of buckets and positioned them near the poisoned patients. Stefan worked on Viktor first; his unresponsive state was more worrying than the hysterical sobbing of the stranger. Opening the vial, he poured half of it down Viktor's throat, tossing another one to the Stalker nearest Darren's head so that they could do the same. A few moments later, the medicine took effect, and Stefan rolled Viktor onto his side as about half of his stomach's contents were voided. After that, Stefan sat him up, and while he was clammy, sweaty, and breathing heavily, he seemed much more responsive.

"Am I dead?" He asked, running a hand down his face. His stomach gurgled uncomfortably and he doubled over the bucket, but nothing more came out as of yet.

"No," Stefan answered. "But you damn well might have been. You two drank a month's supply of medicinal base steeped from carefully grown and harvested mutant fungus. Which is very toxic in high doses. It doesn't seem like enough has been absorbed into your bloodstream to cause permanent damage yet, which is why we need to get the rest out before it does."

"Damn," Viktor breathlessly responded. It wasn't clear which part of Stefan's scolding he meant it to be in response to, and when the remaining liquid in the vial was offered, he shook his head. Stefan held it out further, and began speaking again.

"We can do this two ways, Viktor. One, you drink this and vomit. Two, I reach into your guts and then you vomit. There's also the third option: permanent nerve damage. I'd pick quickly if I were you." He held the vial out for a few more seconds, and Viktor, still slightly delirious but steadily coming down from the toxins, didn't respond. Stefan took that as his answer, and thrust his other hand forward. It turned black, more resembling a solid shape of mist than an actual limb from the elbow down, and sunk into Viktor's midsection up to the wrist.

It was an extremely strange and unpleasant experience, not painful, but incredibly uncomfortable. A squeeze of some ethereal digits around his stomach made him wretch the rest of the liquid in it into the bucket, and Stefan drew his hand back, allowing it to resolidify. There was no hint that he'd just done so on either of them, but the risk of any more toxin flooding his systems were gone now. Stefan capped off the rest of the medicine and returned it to the cabinet, then wiped Viktor's face off with a towel.

"You'll be fine. Get rest, water, and once you can handle it, some food. And please, ask before you start drinking things. If it's not at the bar, it's not meant for you." Stefan let the towel sit on the bed next to Viktor, who at least had something of a defense.

"It kind of was," He huffed out, picking up the towel to wipe the corner of his mouth. "The courier with the crate just, kind of set them down for a minute." While he was telling the truth, he still hadn't bothered actually inquiring as to what was in those bottles before he went and downed most of one with Darren. After combing his fingers through his hair, he turned to look at Rock, as well as the other man that he'd brought along, and greeted them with a wordless upward nod.

While his face wasn't visible, Stefan's expression beneath the mask was one of irritation. "You pay someone to make a delivery, and they can't even finish it before stopping at the bar. Ah, it doesn't matter. What does is that you're going to live. Now then, take better care of yourself, and do try to avoid pouring poison down your throat from here on." He patted Viktor's shoulder, then turned away to check the other two out, beginning to clean Ruffus's more obvious wounds out while the others helped Darren ingest the vial of medicine.

Viktor himself stood to empty his bucket at the sink, and upon being given his jacket back by one of the Stalkers that carried him in, he put it back on and left it unzipped. He still felt quite ill, but it was temporary, and a much better side effect to feel than...whatever it was he'd gone through while full of toxic fungus water.

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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
View Likes PostPosted: Sat Feb 20, 2016 11:08 am 
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((collab between me and Malikai m-man))

Having decided that one more armed person is better than facing this unknown threat alone, the Stalker sentry provided Darina with ammunition. "Much obliged," she said with a grin, loading her pistol.
The Stalker glanced at her eyes. "You a mu--"
Darina shot him a look before he could finish the sentence, but she sighed and nodded. The fellow just gave her a means to defend herself properly; might as well act with a little more gratitude. "I don't hear anything like return gunfire," she remarked, "but you never know--wait." She pressed a finger to her lips, though she could tell from the look of consternation on the Stalker's face that whatever she had heard had, at least vaguely, been noticed by him, too. What would have sounded like feral shouting echoing from the woods sounded very much like a clear declaration to the redhead. I am Halak! Dar frowned.
"Who's 'Halak'?" she asked him. The man frowned back at her.
"Nobody here by that name. Why?"
"He says his name is Halak. But I don't know if he's telling you that, or talking to somebody else." The man shook his head. Darina pointed to the direction she had heard the noise issue from ("and tell them to stop firing randomly, will you? It's messing with my ears," she added), and immediately the man ran back to the guard tower, signaling to his comrades with his raised hand.

The bandit--ex-bandit?--stood there for a moment, wondering if she should seek the safety of the guard tower or pursue the source further. After all, she had what she wanted. She pressed a hand over her stomach, cringing. On the other hand, she could still smell the trace of iron-odor from whoever was bleeding out there, and it didn't help her appetite. Maybe she could find something to eat, too. Groaning to herself, she holstered the pistol, unsheathed the knife, and crept onward through the underbrush. She had to stoop lower now and then to keep her balance, the forest floor growing slippery with moss here and there, sloping steeply in other places, or becoming heavily chocked with thick vines and gnarled roots, practically forcing her to half-crawl, half-climb. Her nose and eyes followed bloodstained brambles as if they were the only trail that existed before her.

Something about the air made her feel tense, not so much out of fear but excitement. She was getting close. The air around her seemed to vibrate almost, as if the ripples that sound created became more tactile. Breathing, she realized; she could hear it, whatever "it" was, take heavy breaths. Around her, more blood-stained leaves. Before she could stop herself, her fingers pinched one leaf, sliding along its broad side, swiping the blood from it before bringing the fingers to her lips. ****, the smell alone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, goosebumps rising down her spine. She grimaced as she sucked on her stained thumb and forefinger.

One taste was enough. Like a curtain unveiling before her, he appeared. Or, not so much appeared as materialized out of thin air. A hulking figure, not quite as outlandish as Rock Hammer, but no mere mortal, either. He was scratched all over, and very badly at that, but she could faintly see other older scars on his skin. "****," she breathed, taking a step back, seeing the fangs protruding from where normal human canine teeth should be. And the look on his face! She wasn't that near him yet, but she knew it would be idiotic to pretend he hadn't seen her.

Gulping, she stepped forward so he could get a clearer look at her. Hanging around Rock Hammer made her hesitant to try talking with her gun first. She sheathed the knife and raised her hands, her own racing heart drumming painfully in her ears. "I'm just a scout," she said, cringing as she heard her own trembling voice. "Why are you here?"


It writhed in him, this abhorrent alter-ego, as it fought for control. Halak briefly considered the possibility of just giving in for the sake of survival. He knew that his power would reach its pinnacle, but it wasn't worth it. Never would the overwhelming emptiness be worth whatever small measure of existence he might scratch out for himself.

The air shifted suddenly and thrust him from his melancholy musings. It was a new scent wafting on the slight breeze coming in from behind him. There was something familiar about it, something he couldn't help but recognize though his mind made no connection. It was sweet, but there was also a predatory bite to his olfactory senses.

And there she was.

She caught Halak off his guard. So deep was he lost to his thoughts that he didn't notice the petite woman stalk up to him. Despite his agony Halak lurched to his feet. Blood coated his right side and still open wounds let yet more of his life flow from him. His eyes narrowed on her, but Halak eased slightly after a moment realizing that she meant no immediate threat. Another minute passed as he held her eyes with his. There was a flash of something in that deep amber, something he again recognized, but it was gone.

He couldn't fight anymore, his body too ravaged to continue, and he collapsed. Pleading now he looked to her. "Help… Me." Halak could only whisper to her.

Now, here was a dilemma. Darina flinched as the man stumbled, and even then, seeing him lying bleeding on the ground, it took her a couple of beats to rush to his side. “Ah, ****, man, how did you get so roughed up?” she muttered. She hadn’t thought to bring anything with her besides the weapons, having left her backpack behind with the other Stalkers. It didn’t look like the majority of his injuries were inflicted by bullets, so he must have gotten here already in bad shape. But what was she going to do? She heard her stomach rumble, and she swallowed saliva that had begun to pool in her mouth at the close proximity to all this wounded flesh. Goddammit.

“Okay. Okay,” she muttered, talking more to herself than to him, “okay. I’ll run back, ask for supplies. I might have an expired can of antibac spray and some fibrin glue in my pack. Don’t move!” She backed away from him, not yet willing to turn her back to him, until she was well into the thicket again, where, hopefully, the trees and wild underbrush would slow him down should he give chase. It didn’t sound like he was, and she listened to his labored breathing before breaking into a full on dash, almost tripping here and there before reaching the outpost.
“Well?”
“Lone person. Weak and injured. Should be easily six foot tall,” she said, not wanting to tell them about his mutation just yet, “do we have bandages?”

She returned with the other Stalker guards, carrying the supplies she needed in her backpack. They were still armed and wary, understandably, but she led the way, making it clear to them that she was unafraid after insisting that she could administer first aid to him before they transport him to a better facility. She knelt beside the bleeding stranger, mopping up his bloody skin with strips of cloth, cleaning him as best as she could before spraying him with the antibac. The fibrin glue helped, though she used it sparingly; he would need to be stitched up, anyway, and by a real doctor, too.

“So, what’s your name, then?” she asked, letting the others do most of the bandaging while she slipped the bloody rags she had used earlier into her pants pockets. If it would take a while for her to find something to hunt, she would need something to tide her over for the meantime.

Halak was beginning to sense the source of his familiarity. It wasn't just her eyes, but the way that they were watching him, like she was hungry. Mental flares of alert shot through his nervous system and the hunger of his own began to whisper for violence. Still, there was also a compassion in her. Despite whatever she warred with inside herself, her body language was that of concern.

Eventually she made her way to him and made something of a helpless gesture as her amber eyes looked him over. Halak heard her mutter as she checked his wounds, but spikes of pain centering around his abdomen made it nothing but noise. Slowly exerting his right arm, he pushed himself onto his side in time to see her backing toward the forest. She spoke, louder now, and she let him know that she would return shortly with help. Halak kept eye contact with her until she was out of sight, only making a noise to grunt in response to her declaration. She is wise as well, Halak thought. She never left herself needlessly open. That meant she knew the ways of a predator and Halak could see how dangerous she was, though maybe she didn't quite realize it yet.

as even her scent left the immediate area. New pain lashed at him when he tried to push himself to a somewhat upright position, but he swallowed the agony. Small pinpricks of fear started to form as he wondered if she was really coming back. Why would she? She didn't know him. Still he held to the small hope that was there, and to his surprise, she returned.

Strangers came as well and began to bandage his already scarred torso, applying antibacterial sprays and ointments as they went. The woman wiped blood from his face and asked for his name. Halak looked back to her face. It had been so long since he'd actually spoken to another person.

"I," The words were elusive, but he managed to speak clearly. "I am Halak Arston. I come from north." He did his best to point in the correct direction, but he was barely sure as to where the front of him was. "I was in accident, explosion, underground bunker with strange…" His words and sentences felt so broken when he spoke. It bothered him in a strange way that he didn't quite understand, and it only grew worse the harder it was for him to articulate his thoughts. "Strange technology inside." He hoped that was enough.

Something caught his eye though, those sparks of suspicion surfacing once more. With great skill in sleight of hand, she shoved the blood soaked rags into her pocket. There were mutants out there that could do terrible things with a person's blood, and he wasn't sure if she was one of them. Her assistance was greatly appreciated and Halak knew he was indebted to her, but this raised questions in his mind. They would wait though, for a while at least. Halak cleared his mind and brought his attention back to her and waited for her to speak once more.

"Hello, Halak Arston," she replied, crossing her arms as she sat back. Around her, the Stalkers debated on whether or not to carry the man all the way back to the base. The smell of blood on Halak, and on her, tugged at her appetite, and she was acutely, irritatingly aware of the soaked rags she had hidden in her pocket. What he said about the underground bunker, though, piqued her interest in a totally different way, and for a few moments the bandit in her salivated at the idea. A bunker full of strange technology? Sounded very dangerous. It could be either quite deadly, or quite profitable. What did he mean, though, by technology? Or strange? Did it cause his mutation? Was it a room full of artifacts? If he were to recover properly, would he remember where the place was, exactly?

"Name's Darina. Currently a guest of these lovely folk here," she said, gesturing vaguely at the men, who seemed to have come to the grudging conclusion of bringing the man to the base for further examination. "Now, I can't babysit you for long, I have things to do, but I'll walk with you all back to the base." Maybe she could ask Viktor if she could have a bunk or something, someplace quite and private. They all trudged back to the outpost first, Darina hanging back while the rest carried the bulky man on a stretcher as best they could on the rough terrain.

Once they reached the guard tower, Darina hung back and called out to them, "Hey, uh, I'll be back to check in. I gotta check something out back there first. Make sure he's really alone." The Stalker nearest to her shrugged, and she gave him a lousy salute before running off, back towards the clearing where she had first found him. Looking over her shoulder, she almost sobbed in relief, which both surprised and disgusted her. God, how little self-control did she have left? The question was quickly forgotten, however, as she took out the rags and stuffed one of them into her mouth, sucking Halak's blood from it. She wished she could shut out the whimper that escaped her throat as she practically chewed on the cloth. It didn't give her the same euphoria that corpse had back at the Underbelly, but it gave her a hint of it. At the very least, it was like scratching an itch, and she spat the rag out, working on the next piece until all the scraps of cloth had lost their appeal for her.

Leaning back on a tree, Darina closed her eyes, licking her lips. She was about to suck on the residual blood on her fingers when she choked back a scream, finding that her right hand had disappeared. No--wait. Covering her mouth with her left, she flexed the fingers, found a mirage-like shimmer that vaguely formed the shape of her right hand, until it disappeared, replaced by her very real, very human, flesh. Camouflage. Insects buzzed around her head, but when she tried waving them off, they weren't there. Darina blinked, her vision acquiring a weird fish-eye perspective. Goddammit, did the blood make her sick? She shut her eyes again, kept them that way for what felt like several minutes, and finally opened them again, relieved at seeing her usual vision restored. Or, well, as 'usual' as her senses were, anyway. Remembering how Halak had seemingly materialized out of thin air earlier, she realized that her hand had done the same thing. "What the ****?" she breathed, as she stood on shaky legs. She would have to ask him about this later.

Darina… Halak forced her face into memory, if only just to ask her about the blood, but there might be something else of importance once his mind was free of the pain, blood loss, and numbing roar of the hunger. Two men pulled him along into a large warehouse structure that seemed to be set up like some sort of headquarters. A sea of people flooded by and all eyes seemed to be on him. There wasn't much time to speculate as his vision began blurring to grey. Noise became static and eventually there was nothing but the contents of his mind. It was peaceful for once, the hunger finally losing its strength to fight for control. His mind drifted back to the woman that found him. She was the first human contact Halak had in years, but there was something more to her. Then, with subtle grace, even his mind grew quiet.

Darina…

It was a while before the redhead bandit returned to the Stalker base. She hadn’t bothered to completely clean off some of the blood from the front of her jacket. It took a bit of doing, but she had managed to chase down and eat a good-sized rat earlier. Apparently, the creature had been attracted to all the blood Halak had lost. More food for her, then. Unfortunately, whatever she had gotten from Halak’s blood had interfered with her vision somewhat, making it a longer chase than necessary, but somehow she had managed to kill it with only her knife. Lucky. Lucky, she muttered out loud, as the sentries let her into the warehouse.

She felt sick. No, not sick, not exactly. She felt almost like the way she did after seeing Scott’s defiled corpse earlier, but she wasn’t sure why. Was she irritated at the inconvenience of her earlier meal? Or at the mystery of his blood? When she bumped into somebody, a growl escaped her, followed quickly by an apology. She kept her head down, making her way towards the bar like it was the only thing that was inside the warehouse. God, she wanted a drink, and to hell with anyone who noticed how disheveled she looked right now. Worse part was, she liked the taste of Halak's blood better than the rat's. Well, the alcohol should wash them both down.


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Tue Feb 23, 2016 12:02 am 
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Mikhail had turned when Rock Hammer had asked for Stefan, but didn’t make a move until the doctor asked him to ‘lend a hand’. He wasn’t sure quite what he could do, but he followed all the same. At least, he tried to until Stefan vanished. After navigating his way into the other room, he stood at the doorway until he was brushed past by the Stalkers that were carting in Viktor and Darren.

He followed into the room after them, and not longer after was hit by both the sounds of sickness, and the smell— which came down on him like a wall, of pure unadulterated vomit. He made a face and slowly familiarized himself with the room, eventually walking over to where Stefan was tending to Viktor.

Mikhail made a bit of a noise right before Stefan stuck his ethereal hands into Viktor’s stomach, but covered it with a cough. He had half expected Viktor to respond in regards to the whole ‘reach into your guts’ thing, but then he surmised that the mushroom juice must’ve been pretty powerful stuff. And he thought he’d been a nuisance by crushing a wheelbarrow.

Then again, maybe Stefan was just a terribly patient person, and had a very high tolerance for other people’s bullshit.

Receiving a few glimpses of the scene around him, Mikhail’s head turned down towards Viktor’s bucket, and then at Viktor, and regarded him for a briefly moment before rather quickly making his way over to Stefan, who was now helping Ruffus. “Any assistance needed?” he asked quietly.

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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
PostPosted: Tue Feb 23, 2016 1:15 am 
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Nikolav's eyes wandered around Viktor's workshop as the rest of the group found places to settle into. She imagined the room was a lot like other places and she wondered if other storage containers looked like this on the inside. The voices in her head talked amongst themselves as her eyes passed over tools and work benches. Her mind wandered as the others in the room conversed while she got lost in thought.

Her attention snapped back as Viktor started pulling the items from the bag the grabbed off the dead man. Her eyes fondled the knife and the rebreather. Get the mask and knife the voices shouted in her head. The knife and mask shifted slightly on the table as she focused intently on them. The rebreather proved too heavy to move, but the knife slid slowly across the table, shifting and turning as it was pulled along.

"Come on", she whispered to herself as the knife tugged across the table. Finally it dropped off the table and into the air, Nikolav shifted her bag while opening it and pointed the knife's tip towards the bag and pulled it swiftly in. Hoping no one noticed she stepped to the table and grabbed the mask and a few of the straps of the rebreather and stuffed them into her now open bag. Closing the bag and pushing it back into it's usual spot she followed behind the group as they left.

Her eyes scanned around the base while she looked for something to do. "Better not go up there yet", she said to herself eyeing the stair case that led to the second floor. Within a few moments of looking she noticed a small library off to the corner of the lounge opposite of her. She walked quickly towards the library. As she passed she heard the sound of Darren and Viktor's drinking. It wasn't long before she found a small book on caring for dogs. I always wanted a dog she thought to herself as she sat and opened the book and began reading.


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
View Likes PostPosted: Thu Feb 25, 2016 2:11 am 
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[collabin' all day this is a tynehelm creation]

Liliana had followed a few paces behind Viktor as the group left his cubicle, at one point casually dragging her fingertips along the side of the hall, feeling the awkward weight distribution from the loaded-down holster very acutely. She held a piece of dried meat to one side of her mouth, letting her saliva soften the hard leather while Dziecko swallowed, coughed up, and re-swallowed his bite before head-butting her ankles, his flat snout twitching with offense that she had held out on him. The small group separated naturally upon re-entry to the common area, and she moved listlessly to a small, empty couch against the far side of the large room; it had a sort of half-barricade of crates that doubled as seating, sort of vaguely sectioning it off from the largest part of the room.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but at some point she became aware of a very direct stare. Her eyes immediately snapped to the observer, pushing his gaze backward with her own intensely flat one. He approached slowly, then dropped onto the unoccupied cushion. “Is that yours?” he asked, jerking his thumb to piglet (who was currently snuffling the boots of a distracted stranger).

"Yes.”

“What d’you want for it?”

Liliana half-noticed a gaggle of Stalkers moving quickly through the common room, carrying some awkward-looking cargo, but her focus was on the piglet urinating in the far corner of the room onto something that was either an unbundled bedroll or a napping person. "What are you offering.”

There was a slightly tense pause, then the man leaned back and crossed his leg over his knee, a smile forming behind his thick goatee as he shook his head in dramatic exasperation. “Could offer you something that packs more of a punch than your little peashooter,” he added, nodding toward the holster on her thigh, the smile fading into a little smirk that said he fancied himself pretty manipulative.

“Do you want this?” she countered blankly.

He looked a vaguely confused and surprised for a moment. “What, the pebble splitter? Of course not. But hey, if you need a few more rounds for it, we could grab a few drinks and talk about how many boxes it would take to – “

“Do you want my ammo for it?”

His voice immediately dropped from manipulative to equal parts irritated, confused and concerned. “Listen, Sunshine, do you understand how bartering works or – “

“Are you Liliana?” This new voice came from a Stalker that had approached from the other side of the room, an unarmed one with an easy air about him.

"What is it?” she answered quietly, her eyes looking past the would-be bacon-eater as though he no longer existed.

“Guy was lookin’ for you.” At the look of growing annoyance his comrade’s face, he added, “The big one.” He made a gesture of height not two inches above his own, but the intention was clear enough.

She stood smoothly, glanced to the goatee’d man and murmured, "Excuse me,” before following the other one a few paces away from the couch. A cursory glance of the easily-visible parts of the room revealed that Rock Hammer wasn’t in it, prompting her to follow up with, "Where did he go?”

“End of the hall. Doc’s office.”

An electric current skipped through Liliana, from right to left, and her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Why did he need a doctor? She was fairly certain a horde of mutant bears would have initiated some form of alarm among the Stalkers, so what had managed to hurt Rock to the point that he sought medical help? Forgetting her manners for a moment and failing to thank the man, the blonde woman broke into a smooth, fast walk down the indicated hallway. She rounded a corner and noticed the giant man standing at the end of the hallway; she quickly noted that he wasn’t cradling his intestines or missing any limbs. A faint semblance of relaxation snaked through her shoulders and she approached at a slower pace. "Are you – “

The unmistakable sound of an adult male violently crying hit her just before she crossed the front of the door, turning her head even as she finished the sentence, "… okay?”

Even while sobbing, the characteristic rasp of Darren’s voice came through. It made for a truly grating sound, but most of Liliana’s focus was on the doctor – she assumed that was the doctor, anyway, given his medicating and instructing of the few other Stalkers that crowded the room. He could have just some random authoritative person in a bird-mask; regardless, he seemed to know what he was about.

It was confirmed when Viktor promptly heaved into his bucket, though his face looked feverish and eyes disoriented. She was just able to make out the doctor’s succinct summation of options over Darren’s emotional distress, and the faintest shadow of concern flickered in the back of her mind.



There was the sensation of being carried, although it was impossible to discern what was happening around him. Vertigo assailed him, and Darren felt the world begin spinning with uninhibited violence, stopping only once he felt something soft underneath him. He was seated, presumably at the edge of a bed, and abruptly he realized he was still sobbing.

He didn't even know why he'd been crying - he remembered something about mushrooms, and then something about furniture flipping over. But his body was in agony, now - the pain brought him back to reality with jarring efficiency, and he recalled the bottle he'd shared with Viktor.

I guess that's it, then. We're done.

There was faces around him, looking at him with concern - or was it regret? At least one of them looked very much like he was at someone's deathbed, and as Darren faced his own mortality the tears stopped completely. A lonely death, it would be: he had no friends here, with the lone exception of his drinking partner, who was probably already dead. He heard vomiting in the distance, but in the midst of his reflections he thought it sounded beautiful, like a bird in some long forgotten dream.

He jumped, spotting a glass vial; the man holding it was saying something, but the words weren't reaching him. He shook his head, nauseated by the sight of the liquid - more poison, probably, to speed along his passing. A mercy, given the pain he was experiencing, but he was no coward. The bottle came closer, and the man moved to uncork it, but Darren shoved him away, sending him stumbling back over his own feet. Someone seized him by one arm and he blindly flailed, knocking him aside as well as he released a weak, raspy roar of defiance.



Darren’s crying cut off, suddenly enough to snap her attention back to him. He may not have been broken-heartedly sobbing any more, but he certainly didn’t look right; besides being far too pale, he had an unfocused, hazy, absent expression. Sad, maybe? She had seen a flicker of his sad face recently.

The Stalker with the vial tried to tell the scarred man that he was going to have to drink it, that it would help him, but that didn’t stop Darren from reacting as if it were open flame when the man tried to administer it. He shoved away the first helpful fellow, and knocked the second back into one of the improvised IV stands; Liliana could see the stubborn set to his face as he rasped violently at them.

Without really thinking, she strode into the room, one hand snatching the tiny vial from the increasingly-frustrated Stalker before uncorking it with her teeth. One of Darren’s uncoordinated flails sent an arm toward her shoulder, but she slipped around it easily.

Her free hand snaked forward and firmly grabbed his lower jaw, forcing him to face her as she held the small vial up. "Drink it.”



Darren blinked, as a familiar face swam into focus. Liliana, the woman who said each word as if she carried a limited supply, had his face in a tight grip. He stared into her eyes, and saw the usual blankness, although behind it was a keen sense of purpose. She wasn't ****ing around.

"Drink it."

So she wanted to kill him too - he definitely wasn't the charmer he used to be, but it was still upsetting to see that she supported the ones who wanted him to make a hasty exit from the bleak world they inhabited. Perhaps it was because he'd gotten the checker game he wanted; maybe she believed Darren had accomplished enough, and the time to depart had arrived.

He growled, a low, rumbling sound, and shook his head. His arms he kept at his sides, for even in his current state he wasn't going to attack her. But he kept his mouth firmly shut, staring defiantly back at the emotionless woman. He wasn't going to drink it, and nothing she did had any hope of changing that.



A second passed.

With zero change of expression, Liliana dropped her hand from his jaw to his chest and closed her forefinger and thumb around his right nipple. His unzipped jacket and thin shirt made it a fairly easy target.

She twisted. Hard.



The mouth that was firmly shut just a moment before opened wide as Darren emitted a high pitched shriek of agony.



The hand not currently clamped around his nipple became a blur as she shoved the entire antidote, glass vial and all, into Darren's open mouth. Trying to minimize his reaction time, she released his nipple and shoved his jaw closed, plastering her palm over his lips as the other clamped shut around his nostrils.

Without breaking eye contact, she slowly commanded him: "Swallow."



Her momentum and his own physical instability sent Darren backward; his reluctance when it came to harming her had left him vulnerable, and before he knew it he was on his back, with her on top of him. Her eyes were boring into his, just as they'd been doing the entire time, and this time when he heard her, without conscious thought, he obeyed.

He didn't know why - maybe it was because he could think of worse ways to die, than with an emotionless blonde woman on top of him. It certainly brought back fond, if foggy memories, but whatever the reason, he drank. The vial wedged at the back of his mouth, which may have broken, wouldn't have left him much choice anyway, and when it was finally empty he lurched upward, spitting out most of the glass container.

Liliana was no longer on top of him, which was good, because a moment later he was doubled over, vomiting violently into a bucket someone produced out of thin air. He tasted blood, and felt a sharp sting that told him he'd eaten some glass.



Liliana felt him swallow, her face totally undemonstrative of the vaguely irritated thoughts beneath the surface. She had misjudged the force and ended up far closer than her intention, which in this instance, served only to remind her how many times similar situations had happened in the last few days. Fortunately, she moved quickly after Darren's ingestion and avoided any critical delay between him and the bucket; her eyes flicked to the vial he'd spit out, noticing that it was empty before seeing that it was a bit broken towards the top. Well, his fault. A little glass would probably do less damage than the... whatever they had gotten into.

She turned on her heel, headed back for the door. Of the two Stalkers she passed, one of them was chortling openly, and the other was staring at her with a vaguely concerned expression, his palm over the right side of his chest.


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 Post subject: Re: Tɧɘ Ғσᶃ [IC]
View Likes PostPosted: Sun Feb 28, 2016 12:36 am 
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The door to the Stalker base opened in front of Magpie fortunately quickly, and she shuffled through into mildly warmer climes. With a slight huff, she began to loosen the tightly wound scarves and coats she had wrapped around her frame. She had no intent to remove them- stray pieces of clothing got scooped up quickly in the endless quest for warmth, and she’d snatched a few coats from other people. She wasn’t exactly about to give anyone else the opportunity. Still, though, it was nice not to be so tightly packed for a while. Tiny immediately began sniffing the ground and furniture surrounding the door. She grabbed a handful of fur and skin and guided the huge dog further away from the entrance, intending to clear out and maybe find something to drink.

However, she was distracted by one of the Stalkers addressing her. She wasn’t entirely sure he was talking to her, and she was briefly distracted by his alarmingly saggy face. It made it very difficult to discern facial expressions, but she eventually judged it as expectant. Magpie decided that he wanted an answer from her. “Magpie Krupin,” she said in response to his question. “Yours?” She offered a hand to shake. Might as well be friendly to the people that lived here, even if it looked like their skin was about to slide off their bones. it would be nice not to driven out by a lynch mob again.

The mutant man smiled, or at least the skin of his face shifted to some semblance of the facial expression. If he had noticed the split pause it had taken Magpie to register his appearance, he gave no indication of it. He extended a three fingered hand to take hers, shaking it earnestly. “Nikita. What brings you here? Beautiful dog, by the way.” Behind him, Napoleon padded over to the couch to investigate the new, larger dog with a sniff.

Magpie gestured vaguely over her shoulder where other members of her traveling party might be. “I’m with the big group that just came in. We all sort of ran into each other while we were traveling, and Viktor brought us here.” She scratched her nose. “It’s a long story. That doesn’t make too much sense. Hopefully things will calm down now that we’re here, though. I tend to doubt it though.” At the compliment given to Tiny, she had to smile. “Yeah, he’s all right. Your dog’s not too bad either.” She watched the two dogs exchange dubious sniffs. She was glad her dog wasn’t overly aggressive, except when it came to her being hurt- he would be nigh impossible to manage if he ever decided to become more destructive.

Nikita nodded. Ah, Viktor was back from his bear hunt, and alive. The Stalker made a mental note to cash in his 2000 ruble bet with his pal Dimitry as soon as he got the chance. “You have to tell me what happened. Considering how long he’s been out, it sounds like quite an adventure.”

“Oh, and that’s Napoleon,” he said, indicating the overly large husky. It was hard to tell from his face, but the tone of his voice carried a bit of pride. “Very strong, very smart. He’s been with me for many years.”

He looked at the two dogs for a moment, and then turned back to Magpie. “Tell you what, how about we grab some food from the pantry, and you tell me about your journey as we eat?”

At his interest in the story, Magpie snorted. She wasn’t too sure she could tell Nikita exactly what had happened- most of it was fairly convoluted and she had only seen bits and pieces of it here and there, if she was being honest. “Sure, I’ll give it a shot.” She offered her hand to Napoleon for the dog to sniff it, looking at it with a soft smile that was a little incongruous with the rest of expression set. “Napoleon, eh. Good to meet you. This is Tiny.” Tiny barked at the mention of his name. “Named for his brain size than anything else, but he’s a good dog. Saved my ass more than a couple of times.”

At the offer of food, she grinned. “Well, I’ll never turn down free food. Lead the way.”

---

A meal and a story later, Nikita sat across from Magpie at a table.. They’d picked up Snowball along the way, and the white dog was underneath the table with Tiny and Napoleon, the three happily munching on scraps of meat being slipped to them. A few other Stalkers had pulled up chairs to listen to Magpie’s retelling of her journey with much interest, and at some point someone had brought out a couple of drinks.

Nikita sipped his drink and leaned back, thoroughly impressed. “Quite a story, “ he remarked. “You’ve been through a lot.”

Magpie shrugged, picking a stray piece of food out of her tooth with her fingernail. She hadn’t had to embellish too much to keep her audience’s attention- and the free food and booze- so that said something about the story. “Yeah. Can’t decide if I want it to keep up or not. It’s pretty exciting, but not really worth the trouble.” She flecked the food away and took another sip. “I guess it can’t get much crazier after this.”

Of course, as soon as she said this, there was a rather large amount of noise coming from somewhere in the base. She couldn’t even work up the energy to be concerned like those in her audience. Still, Magpie was curious, so took a final swig and stood up. “Well, that’s probably us, so if anyone’s interested in a show, we can go see what’s happening now. Where do you think that noise was, Nikita?”

“Sounds like the medical room,” the Stalker said, sounding vaguely concerned. There was an awful lot of shouting. Nikita finished his drink and got up. “This way.”

With a few other Stalkers and the dogs following at their heels, they rounded a few corners and headed back in the direction they had come, before Nikita led them in an abrupt turn towards Stefan’s office. He squeezed past the huge man covered in furs (Rock Hammer, if he recalled correctly from Magpie’s story), to behold a pretty blond girl trying to force a vial of fluid down Darren’s throat.

Magpie also slid past Rock Hammer. “Scuse me, big guy,” she muttered, patting a vague part of him without checking if it was actually skin, or fur, or some meat slab. She’d decided it was best to just ignore the weirder aspects of the man- which she supposed was just all of him- and just sort of hope it would work out.

She edged into the room just in time to watch Liliana twist Darren’s nipple for an apparent medical reason. A slow grin spread in a slow growing crack across her face as Liliana forced whatever fluid that was down the poor man’s throat and left him to heave in a bucket. Seemed like the woman.

“Holy Christ,” Magpie said without inflection. “That was a magical moment, right there.”

Eyes fixed on Darren spitting out blood, Nikita gave a laugh that was part amusement, part fear. “It really was.”

Viktor sure had picked an interesting bunch.


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