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Server time: 2018-06-22, 01:32

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Something different (open)

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*Karl lights a cig and pushes the PTT button*

Hey, gonna be a special snoflake here and say something that people say not so often... *Coughs* How are you? Whats clackin'? I personaly was walking around today and met few funny folks. Right now taking a rest and getting ready to sleep. I decided to listen to what you guys are doing...

*Karl closes his eyes and smiles while waiting for a response*

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**Tim gets up gingerly from his seat next to the camp stove and grabs the radio from his tent.  His sore legs are apparent from his slow, deliberate movement.  He holds PTT as he paces around the campsite, stretching out his limbs and back.**

"Small talk?  Fuck man, it's been a while since I've engaged in this but here goes...  I spent half my day shitting bricks.  I was inside the cop shop in Severograd this morning and someone walks by humming.  The humming itself didn't bother me, but they must have been toying with me or some shit.  After a while I heard a rifle crack every minute or two.  I stayed low and tried to get out of there but the noises seemed to get closer as I moved in the other direction.  Once I made my way into the trees, I made a beeline as deep into the woods as I could.  Been here since..."

**Tim releases PTT and listens for any sound coming from the woods around him.  Nothing besides the usual chatter of birds and squirrels.  He holds PTT and resumes his train of thought.**

"It's been nearly a full day now, I'm still on edge.  This place will fuck with your head in a big way.  Anyway, I'll be getting back to my meal here.  Thanks for breaking the monotony a bit.  Stay safe out there.  Tim Davidson, signing off."

**He releases PTT, eases back into his seat beside the stove, and lifts the pan lid to check on his chicken and rice.**

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*Nicholas picks up his radio to reply*

Why thanks for asking stranger. Nice to hear a halfway decent person using these things nowadays.

Normally I'd be down there with ya, mingling and socializing with the survivors of this harsh land. Instead, I'm taking a three day vacation.

On the brightside, this cabin I'm crashing at is rather cozy. In fact, I only had to dispose of two corpses upstairs this time!

*Nicholas sets the radio down and resumes reading a shitty Chernarussian romance novel*

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*An American accented male speaks into the radio, transmitting the following message.*

[align=left]"Sometimes the best thing someone can hear is just a friendly question. Thank you for asking. I'm doing, well, not as well as I would hope. One of my eyes just doesn't seem to work anymore and I'm constantly shaking, no matter what I do. I honestly believe it's the drugs that might be doing this, morphine is almost like heroin in nature. Almost, that is. It's not quite, but it's close enough. Someone kicked me right in the face today and split my cheek open again, just as it was beginning to heal and scab over. Really rough time for me, stranger. Real rough. I wish you the best of luck, and thank you again for being, well, not aggressive. It's very rare to see, or rather hear, such a thing over the radio. Keep it up, be an optimistic person, a nice fellow, there ain't many left and I'm too far down the creek to return."

*A brief, incomprehensible grumbling can be heard. After that, the transmission ends.*

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