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Ouromov

Show me how to live

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New phone, who dis? 

Cant wait to read more on this character. Hopefully he isn’t a snake boy 😉 

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Dis Leo, Leo is Leo ;3   No snek

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*EXCITEMENT GROWS*

Come back to us!!

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This character better also sucks at english or I will be sad. I need a fellow chernarussian english explanation buddy 😞 

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Happy Oh My God GIF by DASDING

Gonna be good!

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MOREEEEEE

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PART 2 - FAREWELLS


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The signal was faint, but it was a signal. He kept bouncing off the radio waves from his handheld while calibrating the sturdy transceiver he found in an abandoned military base. Just like before, the signal hadn't moved, perhaps he had dropped his radio after all.
A slim hope, grasping at straws like a claw at a carnival, aimed to pick up the prize. There was always a chance, but in this world, in this moment, positive outcomes came knocking as rarely as those stuffed toys were fished up from their glassy aquariums. Taunting you with a possibility at a distance.

The signal became stronger and stronger, so did the weight of the transceiver, perhaps it was the weight of something else? Inevitable truth that had to be met head on. And there it was staring right at his face, the shallow mound in Severograd...


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The weight of the metal box was eased with a casual toss to the side, but that secondary weight was just growing on his shoulders. Like the weather itself was pressing down on him, the cold chill of winter huffing promises of frost in his ears in the dead heat of summer. Frigid to his veins as the familiar silhouette began unearthing itself with each rake from his digits against the loose soil. The first breath of realization was fire against his throat, a quick draw of oxygen that never quite filled the need. It didn't reach it's zenith and was stuck unfinished. His exhale could not hide the emotion any longer, his voice was weak from it's usual firmness. A haphazard sigh of disappointment and grief that shivered in it's wake.

There he was, yet wasn't...


Those bright amber eyes had lost their sheen in the winter that had made this mound it's home. The heart of Leo's palm grazed and covered the man's eyes to shut them once more. The rummage through his personal effects began as logic tried to distract the rest of his frost burned body and invite some semblance of summer back into the fold. His blue gaze carefully painting the threads between each affect he dragged from his pockets, and pouches.

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Two cranes, one in his affects, one set neatly on the mound he had dug open. At first one might think it was some kind of call sign. It was usually the case in any crime, but this was something personal. A gift perhaps, something given to him in life and now in death. His former radio chatter had not mentioned anything of the likes, but it did mention the "assets" again and again. Like a mantra he had begun repeating, that itself already told Leo that it went deeper. 

Perhaps Milan had been trying to convince himself more than anyone else that these "assets" were simply just that, tools. He mentioned an animal once.. feline.. a cat. Kitten.... Weird.

He shook his head, the moment had caught up again, logic had to wait for now, for later. He stuffed Milan's radio into his pouch, placing one of the cranes on his breast pocket. "Might as well give the bird some fresh air after all that time under the dirt, eh Milan?"  narrating while neatly piling the loose soil on top of the Lynx once more.

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The night drew it's first steps, the silhouette of the built man sat against the grave, accentuated by the reoccurring slender frame of the vodka bottle lifted up. The gluck of the liquid echoing in the silent hills of Severograd. His language shifting from Chernarussian to Finnish as the hard liquor paraded into his liver.

"Ei perkele, ei se varmaan mikää nainen ollu, ku aina saarnasit et sun exät oli seinähulluja akkoja.."

"What made you soft... Or was it just chance...fuck it all!"  

He grunted in the darkness, the rowdy behavior attracting a few stray infected. But the drunken reveler was still just beginning his howl at the moon..

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The maddened barks of curses was cut by the bottle of vodka cracking against the head of an infected, bullets roaring out their entry into the fray. As his pistols made a glorious mess of things. The parade of bullets made a rather odd, but fitting gun salute from Leo's end to his fallen comrade. It was grief turned into anger, fed with each new clip set into the firearms.

The loud echo of the last gunshot lingered, traversing into the hilltops. The scent of gunpowder marring the evening air as he allowed himself a weak moment in the darkness, his last one for the man he had called his friend even though it had been nigh strictly business.  Informant to informant on the radio waves for these past two years. Not having laid eyes on each other since Takistan.

His body laid against the grave slowly curling up in his drunken stupor. Gnawing on a half-chewed cigarette bud like a toddler, Lion and Lynx, finally face to face, for the last time. And then venom slipped through the cracks of his mind as his weakness thrived;  "Is this it? What do I do now?"

But the detective in him slowly offered a ladder out of the pit, as his coarse fingertips stroked against the paper crane embellishing his breast pocket.  "Not yet.."


 

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This is actually a really good read. I hope you continue to post your character story!

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oOoooOO, boy if Leo finds Ellie she won't be the same person Jaro used to know.

*Idly folds more cranes here and there.*

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9 hours ago, Brayces said:

oOoooOO, boy if Leo finds Ellie she won't be the same person Jaro used to know.

*Idly folds more cranes here and there.*

Indeed she won't be 🙂

*keeps passing you all the paper for cranes*

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It's going to be definitely interesting to put the puzzles together with my detective! 

And see what it forms into, as his motivations, way of looking at life and values are very different in certain areas! :3 

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3 hours ago, APositivePara said:

Indeed she won't be 🙂

*keeps passing you all the paper for cranes*

“The worse she got, the more she made. Mystifying."

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Really good read looking forward to the next part

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PART 3  - Lost causes

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Suspicion wracked the nerves of all, it gnawed like a mosquito in the summer eve that you could not quite get a hold of. It would always return to buzz at your ear, to remind you of the what if's and worse case scenarios. The gazes from behind gas masks and sunglasses now set on the woman wearing the bright blue UN-beret.  
Not the best of fashion choices in Chernarus, Leo had learned this the hard way for his own blue attire. 

The dance continued along until the woman roused up in defense of the UN. The new Slovakian acquaintances saw blood in the water, like sharks with multiple rows of teeth, only the rows were the bullets in their magazines. Telling a tale of how the UN had blundered and their leadership fallen down into degrading depths even in the terms of the new world.  But Leo knew he was there just to listen to the music, as he always had. 
He knew what would happen if he danced along the irrational distorted tunes of the apocalypse his friend had gotten shot over not long ago. Perhaps the woman would get blown to bits, perhaps just roughed up. It was her choice.

A freedom of choice that had been molded in the constant hail of bullets he had seen in the field, the scraggly child soldiers, the ones who worked the fields. The beggars, the scavengers that sold their wares. The warlords and the mercenaries. A dead-set mentality of what is there really to lose but your life, but you always will have a choice. He chose to watch what the UN-woman's own words and actions would reap her.

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Even though the signs were all there for things to go the path what they usually did, she folded and discarded the hat that she seemed to hold great pride in. A hail of gunfire was surprisingly steadied out into a stern sermon. And the deer scurried off. His gaze flowed over the new company of people, a "hmh" of laughter lacing his throat at the turn of events. His digits lacing against the frequency he had been given as he wandered off on his own again.

He could appreciate the woman's bravery, but medals and commendations rarely did anyone any good if they were six feet under. That's what people rarely tell about heroes, that they aren't there to get that handshake, those moments of silence in respect. The cold medal hanging from their cross might as well be any bauble set to decorate the sullen sight. Meaningless in the end for the person beneath it.

But to his chagrin Leo was not beyond those sentimentalities as perfect as he thought his theory was. His broad form standing over the grave of Milan as he stood there silently, setting the row of wildflowers against the wooden cross he had hammered for the man after making his grave deeper. The cranes he carried with him, resting now just like he was. 

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"You know Milan, I think it's better you died fighting like this. It was stupid as all hell, but at least you did not live to see the people you cared about downtrodden like this. 
@DinoThe strong stallion reduced to an old haggard nag ready for the glue factory, trailing after the @Braycesstrong farm-cat that stepped with confidence that turned into a raggedy malnourished kitten afraid of it's own shadow." It was their choice. 

He knew it was their choice the moment the @Kordrugaconductor stepped in, suckling in the information that had been laid on the table. And they were more than willing to bleed it over willingly, her even more so. Leo knew the voice, he had heard it in many places. In different languages, different places, but it was the same.

That soft firm tone, like dripping honey that stuck in. It forced you to hang onto his words, to believe it was the truth and the single truth. Enough of it for that young mind and it would probably have her believe in whatever he said with enough circumstantial facts laced in the woodwork.

The way he blatantly explained in Leo's face that the situation was different, that they were helping her instead. Normally it would've made him sick to his stomach, but the lack of protest, the lack of any form of resistance made him draw himself out of the situation. Dancing along the tune of the masked pied piper with one eye. Eager to walk away already. He was not there to sweep after Milan, or anyone. That was his single truth for now, he did not share the same promise he had made with the two lost souls. Even though that small mosquito still buzzed in his ear....
 

A small prod with a stick to test the ice to catch the villain in contradiction, but that would be enough from Leo as far as pushing it went. It was not his fight after all, he had learned what he came to learn. The girl was scared, clinging onto the idea of safety, not wanting her kidnappers to be hurt, not wanting anyone to be hurt. Confused, lost, scared, wanting to stay.  And the man whom the old wolf had told was close to the girl just accepted it all seemingly, perhaps to remain by her side even if it mean't tossing himself and his principles away. The irritation was poignant in his voice though, but was that the extent his rebellion would go to at it's zenith, who knows.

Leo's mission was at an end.. but

 

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His hand reached for the radio, perhaps as a last favor to the old wolf who had waited on the sidelines for Milan and Nikolai to give word that never came. The call to action that would probably by all lengths prove fruitless in Leo's mind by the scene he had seen. 

"I think she has been fully indoctrinated, And Nikolai is following in line to be near her. I doubt she would double cross you or anything, but she is covering for her kidnappers. Whatever you think is left of them, I think it is too late to salvage, I am sorry."

The @RiZStream old wolf answered in confusion, at Leo's words. Options and theories flowing, as they always did. 

"I would focus your efforts on protecting your people instead. Believe it or not, it is your choice." Leo bluntly stated.

"What is my choice?"

"To believe me or not, they made their choices, now it's time to make yours."

Not a single beat skipped as the voice hailed through the radio

"I will get them back"

An involuntary smile tugged at Leo's lips, just like that involuntary buzzing in his ear had risen when he looked at Ellie and Nikolai in their state, that threatened to drive his boots forward into uncharted territory. 

"Mmm."

 

And so choices were made... Whether it would end up in new graves being dug or uncharted territory with new sets of boot prints on it, only time would tell.
The same time would flow on Leo's part and push him forward, his blue gaze painting over the wildflowers that decorated the grave. Luckily they were abundant so upkeep of the grave would not be a challenge. At least it would be routine, chasing away the ever growing abyss that haunted his mind. 

The lack of purpose and commitment to any other route but his own.

And the road itself.... looked emptier than ever

 

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Sick writing @Ouromov!

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Awesome writing per usual! Hope to run into Leo more! Ellie's a little MAD at the moment!!

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Awesome, my dude! Can't wait to read more.

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Details were always a fixation to him, ever since he read his first detective novel. A candlestick, a tiny splotch of blood beneath the couch, which hand was used by the suspect to sign their name eventually translated into what she liked to have for breakfast, when was her birthday, what did she like watching. 

They were the solution, the key, the answer to everything that revolved around him. It had worked like a charm, noticing those little things over the years and reacting to them. But as time went on, that exact key found itself stuck on the lock, immobile. With no space to escape or hide the fact that the key did not fit home anymore. 

Not when things were done like a manual was compelling you to do so. It had become such an instinct to fix things, like a repairman. An inadvertent lie he had been living in and still continued to even after the truth was blatantly shouted at him. A boiling point to their rocky road that lasted for the past year.

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"You don't even care do you!?  You always try to find a solution to me like I'm some kind of new case to crack! There's no file on me, there's no guidebook! You're such a fucking robot! Did you mean it when you said you "loved" me or was that just another bunch of empty words, like a screwdriver that fit just right to a problem you needed to fix!?"

His gaze found interesting details on the floorboards for the whole time she screamed at him. "I'll leave the key here." was his answer, short, blunt and emotionless. He knew what she was saying was the truth, there was no defense to this and the fact that those were the only words he could muster after those five years only further confirmed in his mind that singular truth that haunted himself and now had became a poltergeist she had to exorcise out of her life.

He was playing house, pretending unbeknownst to himself, but she had gotten close enough to notice it eventually. Usually the void stared back at you as the saying went. A spark of violence, something rotten. Something sharp enough to cut or forceful enough to bruise. Something coming from that dark place. But when she had begun digging at him. She had only grown to see that the dark place in him was exactly that. Nothing. A void, that would never commit to anything, let alone her. And that scared her more.

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His boots carried him away, running to a place of protocol. A place where for years to come, everything was done by the manual. Even more so than when he was in the police force. And run he did, and it wasn't because of a single person. Perhaps it was because of that idea that haunted him yet controlled his every waking step. 

That freedom of never having had anything to commit to. Whether he viewed it as a burden or something he was petrified of having, he didn't know. Nobody had gotten close enough or stared at that void long enough to find out. Not even Leo himself. 

Every other night the music would blare out from his headset, immaculate for how old they were. Listening to that worn out cd with the same tunes. Trying to figure out if he really had felt anything or it was all just a well orchestrated machine for her. Eventually those thoughts just faded away with time and the music became routine.

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That dumb grin, it already vexed him the moment he stepped into the Chernarussian camp in Takistan. It flared out like a showman's greeting towards a red carpet full of flashing lights. Only thing the man was missing was a tuxedo and some cue-cards instead of a soldier's uniform and a gun. Leo already he would be trouble.

"You must be the half-Finnski Chernarusski they sent over, ya? Name's Jaromir Lucic and the grumpy one over there is Milan Straka. I'm sure you'll feel right at home in Takistan, our asses haven't been fired at for two whole days! Peachy keen jellybean!"

Leo and Milan sighed in near unison, coaxing out a snort from both after. While Jaromir spread his arms momentarily in a shrug, wafting a dismissive hand at both.

"You'll need a bit of humor to get you through the desert, ya? Hot as fuck during the day and cold as hell during the night."

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"Oh yes... definitely trouble..."   Leo grumbled to himself with a snort as he looked at the photo with the three of them. His body settled cozily against a tree near Belaya Polana as the heated orange flare of his rolled up herbal aid crackled silently. He snorted again in a manner that threatened to sail into a chuckle and cracked his neck from side to side.

 

 

 

 

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Lovely writing per usual, my DUDE! Now come back to RP, alright? 😄❤️

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Great writing, my friend. Always love reading these!

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One thinks of the ocean as a warm cradle, but not the Lion that was paddling over it's chilly embrace. The mainland was already announcing it's farewell, the waves rocking his body made it seem like the treetops were waving at him. 
The splash of coldness that bit at his very core made his mind race even further. Thinking on the decisions made, the bridges burned that laid in rubble behind him. Even if the pathways were ablaze, you could swim back over a river, always. It would be harsh, it would require a push, a reason to rebuild. 

But the more his blue gaze focused on the distancing mainland, the less reasons he could think on staying. It was so easy to think that the end just made these kinds of people appear, digging them out from some deep dark pit of fire. Emptying it out for that one final dance of madness before everything became a part of that void, that reality.
The reality, the new laws, the new orders. But he knew better, these people had always existed. Whether it was on the slopes of some war-torn hell hole of a country where who had more guns ruled. Or the criminals who hid in society searching and poking holes into it. Trying to attain their own freedom in anarchy or pushing their own agenda, their own view of the world that would justify their ways.

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Twisted, he thought. But at the same time he accused himself of hypocrisy. His hands weren't clean and principles had to be sacrificed for split second decisions. "Do or die" he muttered to himself as he struck a match into a furnace. He wondered how many times that had been the case, and how many times he would've made the decision even if he knew there was no risk. How far into the "zeitgeist" of this time he had fallen into, even though the chapter of this part of history was still to be written fully.
Had he become a part of the spirit of these times unbeknownst to himself just like he had been pretending to have a family and love, because it was the thing to do. Had he truly ever thrown himself into the deep end, or just ran into the comfort of dullness the moment he had to care for something other than himself. Even Milan.. He only came when he knew something was wrong.

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It bit at him, the bars surrounding his stagnant and stuck ways. Like something heavy and primitive in his brain trying to free him. He could feel the pressure deep in his chest. Building up to something loud and worth hundreds of words laced in a tone or rumble. And where words would find his thoughts; there would be passion, close to the earth, so grounded that you could feel the very roots pulling at you to the primal truths he would speak. But the logical part of his mind reigned the visiting bear in. He was alone, there was no benefit on airing his thoughts. And so in the cage they remained for now. But those bars had already bent from the bite. Towards something perhaps that would drag him from the dullness that he had been stuck in for years. 

Maybe it was the scent of the smoke and the orange hue of the flames dancing against the blue canvas his eyes offered. He had always loved watching fire, ever changing yet so dangerous when let loose. One lick could burn, and if it embraced you fully it would reduce you to ash. Maybe he would be reduced to ash like Milan was. Maybe it was worth it? A moment of clarity amidst the madness, the "right" thing. To care so much you would be embraced by fire and consumed by it. Perhaps the warmth it would offer would make it all worth it. His lips curled upwards, as he let loose a "Hmh" of laughter. Perhaps..

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It made him think of those two, forced to burn down the forest of tall trees shadowing over them, that were watching over them and sharing their wisdom. Only to limp over to the very hands that held the gas canister. not by choice, necessity as it is in so many cases nowadays. Even in that amount of destruction there is always a way forward. Nature made it so, when forests burn the soil becomes that much more rich. It becomes ground for new sprouts to grow, teeming with green. 

Only thing he could hope now is that growth would take over. That would be the care he could spare for now, while he was still growing on his own.

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As time passed, and mysteries of this new island began unfolding into another state of everyday. There was that voice again, on the radio. In these days of wolves and lions, there was the kitten. Pawing at the shadow of the tall tree that was felled from her side. Pleading and mewling for guidance, not knowing when, how and where to grow. 

While the night was filled with the sounds of the infected, a few knocks from a bottle of booze was enough to drown that away. But this wasn't so easy to drown anymore. It wasn't his place, yet it vexed him. It made him knock the radio against his temple habitually once more as his fingertip toyed with the button. That jaw-grip on the bars was vice-like now, the creak almost intelligible as a real sound amidst his thoughts.

Yet he did not press it, his words flowed out though through those metal bars. "You need strong roots to grow, pipsqueak. Nobody can grow if they are yanked out of the ground too soon."  

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The very next morning though.. dullness again..? No, this time it was the hangover. It made him even more jovial to his own surprise when the usual visitors came to his cabin. Unguarded and hospitable. After all, If someone smiles at you when they are hungover, you better believe that shit is genuine.

 

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LOVELY AS ALWAYS!! Hope to run into Leo soon, maybe when his island adventures are over, hmmm?

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