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A Message from THE KILLERS

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The albino snorted as she shook her head. "Oh go and fuck a avocado. Lizards." She spoke on her radio. "Fear can be replaced with hope."

Edited by Paradox

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[Aaron holds down the PTT]


*he pauses*

"The Killers? as in the band? wow, I mean shit.. some celebrities and bands kinda just like, snort cocaine and die, but you? you're clearly the special case.. How's Brandon doing?"

*He would start to hum "Mr. Brightside", he pauses to speak again*

"Well anyhow catch ya later."

[Aaron releases the PTT, resuming the humming]

Edited by KyleRP

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Kai listens to "THE KILLERS" message over the radio and shakes his head, sighing underneath his GP-5 gasmask, making the glass lenses fog up slightly.

He begins drawing lines on his paper that resemble morse code, creating scratching noises at different lengths. Some being dots, some being lines. He holds down the PTT and broadcasts the following:

.- -. --- - .... . .-. / -... .- -. -.. / --- ..-. / .--. . --- .--. .-.. . / - .-. -.-- .. -. --. / - --- / -.- .. .-.. .-.. / --- .-. / . .- - / - .... . / .--. --- .--. ..- .-.. .- - .. --- -. .-.-.- / .. / .- -- / -. --- - / .- ..-. .-. .- .. -.. --..-- / .- -. -.. / .. / -.. --- ..- -... - / .- -. -.-- --- -. . / .. ... .-.-.- / .. ..-. / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .- -. -. .- / -.-. --- -- . / .. -. - --- / - --- .-- -. / - .-. -.-- .. -. --. / - --- / . .- - / .--. . --- .--. .-.. . --..-- / - .... . -. / --. --- / .- .... . .- -.. --..-- / --- ..- .-. / --. ..- -. ... / .- .-. . / .-.. --- .- -.. . -.. .-.-.- / - .... .- -. -.- ... / ..-. --- .-. / .-.. .. ... - . -. .. -. --. .-.-.- / -.-. .... . . .-. .. --- .-.-.-

The sound of a paper being scrapped echoes out through the radio as he releases the PTT

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*A completely sarcastic, unimpressed voice comes across the radio. The accent is gruff, and a clear boston accent.*
"Oh my god. I am so scared. I think I just fuckin' pissed myself."
*The monotone voice descends into a growl, the anger in his voice apparent.*

"Listen, dumbass. You ain't fuckin' scary. You might'a been somewhat before you made this stupid ass fuckin' radio call tryin'a evoke the fuckin' Joker from Batman, but now you just shown how much of a fuckin' insane dumbass you really are. Lemme lay it out for ya, Killers, ya ain't gunna survive much longer with shit like this. You just painted a big ass fuckin' target on your backs. Because fuckin' DAMN, that transmission was fuckin' stupid. So, hope it's been fun for ya. Hope ya've enjoyed prancin' around in the shadows strokin' ya own fuckin' cocks at hurtin' people, because hot damn you're all gunna have a fuckin' reality check hear soon. And you prolly won't make it outta it."

*The stranger releases the PTT.*

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*Ludvik would sit in his chambers, tending to an open wound on his arm. He would layer bandages over his arm gently, squirming from the pain. He hears the transmission from his radio in front of him perched up by a binder with many documents inside. He moves towards his drawer taking out a zippo lighter and a packet of cigarettes and places them on the table before moving for the radio. He takes a breath before pressing down the PTT. A Chernarussian accent can be heard, sounding very sarcastic*

"Thank you for waking me Mr.Jupiter. It has come to my attention that one degenerate asylum is needing an inmate back."

*he unpacks the cigarettes, ripping away the wrapper covering them before continuing*

"All jokes and sarcasm aside, Jupiter, I for one have never heard of your so called band of 'killers' nor do I believe that a degenerate such as yourself could ever do such a thing. However, as a man who loves their country and vows to eradicate scum such as yourself and your merry band of screeching monkeys in order to secure a future for myself and children that I may or may not have, I shall be taking your threats to 'spreading fear' and 'nobody is safe' very seriously.

*He places a cigarette into his mouth and lights it*

"If you are stupid enough to continue on your dumb crusade and not crawl back to the place you came from, then I will have no choice but to place you and your friends under arrest and arrange for a public execution once you have been found."

*He takes a drag from the cigarette*

"Do not take this as a joke, you have been warned. Slava Chernarus!"

*The radio goes silent as he places it on the table and begins to enjoy his cigarette*

Edited by Solo

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Diadora would be laughing her ass off at the man’s laugh. She would snort too it got to her that much. She’d crease over.


She replies, her voice trying to talk over her laugh.

”I’m sorry, I... Are you okay!? Like... what the fuck was that? I thought killers were like a boy band... I can’t...”

She wheezes in laughter, trying to get her breath.

”I can’t take this seriously... do you have asthma!? Do you need help planet man? Is this how donkey’s sound when they die...”

She has to wipe her face from the tears, the radio cuts with her almost laughing harder than before. She was too humoured.

Edited by Mademoiselle

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Joe leans forward, listening in on the conversation, keeping a loose grip on his radio as he holds it aloft with three fingers, the other two stuck out into the open air. Slowly, the man hesitantly slides his other hand through the air to grab a make shift voice changer made from a toilet roll and plastic wrap. One of the loose fingers slides over to the PTT as Joe begins to speak.

"You're all pretty cocky towards people who could kill you."
"Although I'm the same way."
"There's a very large difference between the radio and up close and personal."

Joe scoffs and releases the PTT, lowering the homemade item from his mouth, cracking a smile as he does.

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*Lucas, as Jupiter, pulls out his recorder he used to tape the woman's pleas back at Lorenzo's bar earlier that day. He chuckles to himself for a few seconds, his laughter reverberating off the wooden walls. Walking over to the setup he switches it off, the original broadcast that has been on loop for the past few days on the frequency cutting out suddenly. He flips through his other recordings on the voice recorder before finding the one he was looking for. He listens to it before hand, savoring the woman's helpless screams and pleas for mercy and laughing his ass off yet again.  After he stops laughing and eventually calms himself down he presses the recording device up to the microphone of the setup and presses a button down to begin recording a new pre-recorded message to be broadcast on the frequency. He presses the play button on the recorder and plays the audio into the frequency*


*The recording finishes and loops back on the frequency indefinitely until changed. Lucas walks out of the house before looking up at the cloudy sky. He pulls out a metal lighter with the initial 'L' engraved in it with a knife and a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He takes a cigarette from the pack and lights it, putting it to his mouth and taking a heavy drag from it. It begins to rain...*

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*Strawberry reaches for his radio and sighs*

Was that Naomi? That sounds a lot like Naomi.
Well, you know. I didn't really care for
 yous, I was just going to let you guys do your thing.
Honestly, thought you were just going to die out as soon as you popped your head out.

*He giggles*

Well, thanks for the voices. I'll be sure to remember those, and if I ever hear them, or anything even something remotely close to it...
I'll show you how it's done, now I got three voices.
One very hyper sounding, one American woman and a guy with the most boring voice.
Gotta love when some amateurs tries to be the next scary thing.
Cya around, nerds.

*He almost forgets something before he quickly says it*

Oh, yeah. The name is Strawberry, by the way.

*Releases the PTT button*


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