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ItzThatcher

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""Foooookkkiiinnnn Laser Sights!""

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About ItzThatcher

  • Birthday 07/15/1998

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  1. ItzThatcher

    Find me so news titles that are not family friendly and I will make them family friendly

    Alright. While the previous to have been more "Graphic" I think this one is just plain WTF:
  2. ItzThatcher

    The Audio Log of Sergeant Marshal R. Emmrich

    **”M” sat on the bottom floor of the small pub they were now in. He glanced up the stairs towards where Diane and Waters were, then towards the outside where Gunnar and Lucky had decided to stay. He was the last awake, mainly because he feared sleep at this time. The memories were coming more and more lately. He figured it was due to the fact he was with said people. Part of a band again.** **Sighing to himself, having cleaned all his weapons, he leaned back in the rickety wooden chair he was in, eyeing the small desolate interior of the pub. Lots of things changed since he left this region. Since when they moved out west. He frowned, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He couldn’t help thinking about it. The guilt. The failure. It was just how he was. He failed his father. Probably failed his wife and mother… failed his friends. He failed many people. Opening his eyes, he saw his knuckles were white, tightened in memory. He unclenched his fists, stretching and massaging them. But he couldn’t stop the memories still…** *Memory II…* Date: August 19th, 2017 Time: 2100 hours Location: 50 or so miles west of the South Zagorian Border Emmrich eyed the small village before him down the hills into a valley. It looked deserted, lost to the world for some time. It had been months since they started their travel west. Lots of things happened. Good and bad. But they made through most of it so far, if a bit wore down. Emmrich scratched his chin, the thin beard starting since he hadn’t shaved since they left. Glancing behind him, Johnny was getting some rest, Trevor messing with the radio. They heard a broadcast from a man, John Langmore, yesterday and the news was hardly comforting. Either way, Trevor wanted to try and see if they could keep listening in. Joseph was off to the side, cooking some deer meat on a small fire and a cooking set. They were keeping their presence minimal, not wanting to attract attention, alive or dead. Emmrich’s short-range transmitter was on his vest, on but on low volume, as he raised his binoculars again to look at the small village. He had been doing this for the past three hours, seeing only a few dead and no signs of living. “Nothing sir…” finally admitted Trevor, putting the small phone device that went with the Radio-pack back on its holster, shutting it off to save power. Emmrich glance back as he walked over and took a knee next to him. “Anything new?” he continued, with Emmrich shaking his head in negative, looking over the small village. They needed some supplies before they continued on. Food was running a bit too low, and water needed a refill for certain. But Emmrich wouldn’t just walk in without studying the place for a time. “Nothing yet… one more check and we’ll head down.” he replied quietly, Trevor moving over to Johnny to rouse him from sleep. Emmrich stopped glancing back and used that time to look over the village again. While Emmrich would like to think that they didn’t bother anyone on their way… they had. A few groups and people had come across their path as they went. Mostly they just chatted a bit, trading info and supplies, before heading their separate ways. The few that did try to start something… well. “Sir?” asked Joseph quietly. Emmrich glanced over, seeing him holding out a hot cut of deer. The man smiling, while the meat smelled delicious. Joseph, of all things, was a Mess Cook back in the Balkans and continued that when they were shipped out to here. Of course, he didn’t get much time nowadays but Emmrich sure appreciated when he did get to cook. Emmrich grabbed the offered food with a small and a quiet thanks, before eating. For those few who tried to combat, rob, or ambush them… Emmrich spared no quarter. If they were armed, they were dealt with. If they were simply desperate, Emmrich detained them, then sent them on their way with guns to their backs. He didn’t want to kill everyone in their way, but if they opened fire on him or his men, they died for it. Thankfully during said skirmishes, they didn’t take any life-threatening hits. Just scrapes, bruises, and Johnny getting shot on the outer part of his left arm. That was several weeks ago now. Seeing nothing but the shambling infected for the fifteenth time, Emmrich put his binoculars down and back into his pack, standing up and stretching. Getting himself limber for the trip. Joseph started to stoke the fire, while Johnny checked his rifle along with Trevor. After a few minutes, Emmrich made a rally motion, all of them traveling down a hill slowly moving to a dirt road that led into the village. “Eyes up, open, guns ready.” Emmrich muttered quietly, all of them switching the safety off when they reached the first house. Entering and clearing, they slowly moved through the twenty buildings doing the same. They killed the infected with either suppressed sidearms or melee weapons. Emmrich stepped out of the last house with Trevor, securing a few cans of food in their packs, when static came over the radio. “Tungsten 3 to Tungsten 1. How copy?” came a hushed voice of Johnny. Emmrich held up a hand, moving to a bit of cover with Trevor as he pressed the transmitter. “Tungsten 1 copy. Send it.” replied Emmrich in the same hushed voice. There was a bit of static before he got the reply, his eyes on a swivel and wary. “We’ve got two contacts. Armed, but looking ragged. How copy?” “Tungsten 1 copies. Pos?” Emmrich requested, eyeing where Johnny and Joseph should be across the small village. “Moving into the village from the same entry. They appear unaware of us. Advise? Over.” came Johnny’s quiet reply. Emmrich chewed his cheek a bit, glancing towards the dirt road. He couldn’t see them because of some fauna and buildings, but he could guess where they were. “Let them pass… we don’t need to cause trouble. How copy?” replied Emmrich, leaning against the wall of the outhouse, his eyes barely peeking around the corner. He motioned for Trevor to find concealment, knowing he would need to move soon as well. “Solid copy Tungsten 1. Be advised, one with a high powered rifle, the other with an SMG model. Tungsten 3 out.” came Johnny’s report, the radio going quietly afterward. Emmrich saw the barrels of their weapons coming from around the corner of a building when he moved to the bush Trevor went to, some rocks in front of it providing hardcover. He looked through the bush, seeing they looked like Civilians who were passing through. Just as Emmrich thought they would pass on, seeing all the doors open and looted, one stopped and spoke in Chezch, pointed to an Infected corpse. Emmrich bit his lip at that. If they knew that it was recent, either they would scram or investigate. The young Sergeant really hoped they would do the former. After a few brief words from each other, they moved over towards the house Trevor and him just came out of, passing by their position in close proximity. Emmrich raised a finger to his lips as he watched them, stilling his breath with Trevor doing the same. The two men held their silence as the two Civilians passed not five meters in front of their bush, moving into the house. Emmrich eyed the doorway a moment, before gesturing to Trevor to move towards where Johnny and Joseph would be. The Cpl awaited his NCO’s signal, before attempting to move, but ducked in cover as a few parabellum shots run out and pinged off the rocks where he dived behind. “Surrender or die military bitch!” called one of the Civilians in terrible English from inside the house. “Sir? You there?” asked Johnny from the other end. Emmrich looked at Trevor as he was behind cover, moving to minimize his body’s visual contact and target. He glanced to Emmrich with a slightly concerned gaze, his cover not exactly optimal. “We’ve taken fire. Move west by north-west around the village edge to the green two stories on the end. Set up a flanking position on the windows. Over.” requested Emmrich quietly, knowing that the two Civilians didn’t know he was there too. “We said surrender or die American pig!” called the Civilian again, a few more shots pinging towards Trevor’s small rock. The man flinched a bit, some rock chips flying to the side of him from the bullets. Emmrich held out a hand behind the bush, moving it downwards to tell Trevor to stay put, Emmrich taking aim on the doorway. “Tungsten 3 1 in position. Awaiting orders.” came a quiet reply from Johnny. It was quiet, the last of the echoes from the bullets going over the small valley. Emmrich waited a few more moments before he whispered quietly into the radio. “Open up.” Three bursts of automatic fire came from the north end, two muzzle flashes sparking briefly behind the leaves. All the shots either went inside or pinged on the edges of the windows. The two Civilians cried out in shock, one stumbling out trying to get away from the incoming fire. Only to get gunned down by Emmrich as he stood up from cover a moment, letting a five round burst into said man’s back. The man jerked from the impact, falling over dead or dying, SMG somewhere beside him from the fall. Emmrich hurried and moved to the door of the house, Trevor moving next to the other side a few seconds later, nodding. “Drop your weapons!” barked Emmrich into the house, figuring if one knew English, the other did as well. There was silence before they saw a bolt action tossed outside. Emmrich eyed the rifle a moment, while Trevor kept a steady eye on the entry. “I said drop your weapons!” called Emmrich again, his voice hostile. “That was all I have!” came a terrible English/Slavic accent from inside. “Then you best shit out a pistol if you want to live!” barked Emmrich in reply. There were several long moments of silence, Johnny and Joseph moving the windows of the house, ready to pop up and shoot the inside if need be. Then after another few seconds, a pistol came out the door. Emmrich made a fist, then moved it to the door. Trevor nodded while Emmrich again spoke up to the lone hostile. “We’re coming in. Hands on your head, chest to the floor you hear me!” called Emmrich. He listened, hearing some rustling from inside. Emmrich slowly slid along the wall, looking over at Joseph and Johnny, pointing to his eyes with his fingers, and making a crawling motion with his fingers, pointing towards the door. Johnny nodded and slowly leaned up, peeking in quickly and ducking his head back, nodding to Emmrich. Said Sergeant nodded before sliding along the wall back to the edge of the door with Trevor. He raised his hand, eyeing the darkened inside, fingers going from three to zero. Both of them burst in, clearing the corners of the room rifles at the ready. They found the lone man on the floor with hands and their head. After clearing the room, Emmrich moved and stood near the man. “Get up. Slowly.” he ordered. The man slowly getting to his knees, then to his feet, hands up and behind his head. Emmrich circled to move in front while Trevor moved back out the doorway, clearing the exit. “Move.” Emmrich said, gesturing with his rifle to the door. The man looked scared shitless, moving out slowly. After he was on dirt Joseph kicked the back of his knees in, pushing the barrel of the gun into the crook of his neck sharply, earning a slight cry of pain from the man. Emmrich didn’t care, moving over to the downed man. He kicked the corpse’s side, moving it over to see he was definitely dead. He made a motion to the body towards Trevor, the man nodding and moving to strip him of anything useful. Emmrich moved to take a knee in front of the man, while Johnny kept his rifle up, scanning the hills and building with a sharp gaze. Emmrich stared coldly, said man keeping his gaze down, looking quite scared. “How good is your English?” asked Emmrich tersely. The man spoke up in a shaky voice. “Passable.” he replied, with Emmrich nodded, taking a moment to look around before looking back at him. “Alright… You stay like this. I don’t care if it’s uncomfortable for you. You don’t move a single fucking inch. You do. You die. Understood?” ordered Emmrich coldly. The man didn’t nod, but muttered a squeaky “Yes”. “Now… we are going to take things from you. But we’ll leave you a bit of food and your water. After that, you stay like that for thirty minutes. Count in your head or aloud. I don’t give a shit. You don’t. We’ll shoot you. Understood?” again ordered Emmrich, with the man giving another squeaky “Yes”. Emmrich stood up from his knee and nodded to Joseph. Said man nodded, slinging his rifle and starting to rifle through the man’s pack, taking some food, a few munitions, but nothing much else. Emmrich kept his rifle trained on the man’s chest, towards an angle so it wouldn’t shoot through him to Joseph. After taking what they willed, and securing their loot, Emmrich made hand motions for them to move out, following slowly. “Start counting.” he said tersely, stepping backward slowly while having his rifle trained. The man started to count with some sobs in English, probably thinking he was about to die. After several more paces, Emmrich turned on his heels and jogged up the road, Johnny keeping an eye and rifle trained on him more up the road. After Emmrich passed him, he stood up and fell in. All of them kept jogging up the road, and into the trees after several meters. They continued in silence for some time, Emmrich keeping his eyes ahead and alert, all of them moving at a moderate pace. After twenty more minutes Emmrich raised his hand in a fist, moving it in a circular pattern. They all slowed and stopped, taking a few moments to gain their breath back some. Emmrich moved to look back the way they came, wanting to make sure they didn’t follow. Doing that to people left a bad taste in his mouth, but they asked for it. The man died for attacking Trevor like that. That was fair to him, but leaving the other one like that disheartened him a little. He wanted to be moral, kind, compassionate. But this world wouldn’t allow him to do what the Lord wished. Shaking his head, he looked over his men after he was satisfied no one was following. “We all good?” he asked, nods going around with all of them frowning a bit. Sighing, Emmrich pulled out his compass and looked it over, then pulled out a map and started to location their current position. “Next town is a day travel. Two at a slow pace… we need to get moving.” he said quietly, all of them nodding. Emmrich folded up his map, sliding it back into his vest and pocketing the compass. He made a rendezvous motion with his arm, continuing his pace towards the west, his men following silently. *Memory II end…* **Emmrich sighed, having moved to a window, leaning against the frame as he looked outside. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Not much had changed since then. Only the people. Rolling his shoulders a bit, he moved over to a corner in the pub. He slid off his pack and pushed it into the corner, laying down and resting his head, closing his eyes. Sleep came soon… thankfully a dreamless one.**
  3. ItzThatcher

    134.56 MHz

    **The frequency comes alive once more** "**** again over? **** repeat say again over? Didn't catch your ****?" **The channel goes quiet once more**
  4. ItzThatcher

    134.56 MHz

    **The Frequency crackles alive with a transmission being sent. It is static and unintelligible at first, clearing up sometime later along.** "**** Emmrich of the 41st ***** does anyone copy? I say again, Sgt ******* of the ****** does anyone copy? I repeat, to all NATO and US-affiliated forces within the AO, you are not alone. I repeat you are not ******. Sgt ***** out." **The Frequency dies out after some moments, the message odd but perhaps... helpful to those who needed it.**
  5. ItzThatcher

    The Audio Log of Sergeant Marshal R. Emmrich

    **Emmrich would be trying to rest as Diane and Waters caught up, hearing them talk while he tried to sleep. Soon enough the quiet words they exchanged became a blur and Emmrich fell asleep… he wished he didn’t later.** *Memory I…* “Move move move!” yelled Emmrich, peeking around the corner and unloading a quarter mag, taking out a few Infected on the streets. They were closing in all around them fast. Too fast. Too fast. His blood was pumping loud and the adrenaline was spiking. His breathing was washed out by the sounds of gunfire, rain, screams both living and Infected. Electro was a hell hole. Plain and simple. His three men dashed across the gravel and torn streets, firing their own weapons into the massive hordes moving to surround them. Command just went dark in the town, overrun by the hour with hundreds of infected. Everything was in disarray but Emmrich would be damned if he let that kill him and his men. He fired a few more rounds, catching two that tried to get in close, before rushing after his men. They dropped their packs a few blocks back, the weight not worth their lives. They only recovered their munitions, knowing they would need them. “Frag out!” called Joseph, twisting on his feet and tossing a M67 back down the street around the corner. A dozen just rounded the corner went it blew, body parts, guts, and blood raining behind them. But it would only bring more. “Keep moving!” yelled Emmrich, turning and taking a knee, trying to steady his breathing for a moment, unloading the rest of the mag into the chasing horde. Emmrich quickly ejected the magazine, reaching to his pouches for another to load, feeling none in the front. He then quickly got up and moved, racing after his boys. They were towards the eastern edge, trying to reach the mountains and hills, hopefully seeking to find cover and escape there. “Magazine!” called Emmrich, Johnny tossing him one. He quickly loaded the gift from God into the M4, pulling back the slide and hearing it was ready and raring to go. They kept running. No words except for calls and warnings. There was no need. Their lives were on the razor’s edge, and it was cutting deep. “Twenty on the way!” called Trevor, giving a hand sign seeing a horde ahead blocking their path. Emmrich stood up to the front calling for a quick burst. All of them took a stance and fired, half the number depleting or on the ground from the bullets. Then they kept moving, Hell clipping at their heels with a vicious need. Emmrich glance above, seeing a few NATO helios up in the sky, laying fire or trying to spot targets. At least they hadn’t lost it. But they wouldn’t come to pick them up either sadly. “Johnny, lay it on the left!” called Trevor, Johnny moving and aiming, laying into the left flank of the block. It cleared a pathway for ten seconds. They made the window in nine. All of them were panting hard at this point, having run the last twenty minutes down streets, alleys, and blocks. The Infected and riots all around them. Then gunfire came on their right as they entered the next street. “Shit!” called Emmrich, diving just as a few bullets went by and pinged the wall. He didn’t look to identify, considering anything hostile. “Open fire!” called Emmrich, getting to some cover. It was cleared from hordes for the moment, most moving the city center and the noise. A few civics with automatics came around the corner. Two of the number were cut down immediately by Joseph and Trevor before they had to move back into cover. Returning fire came a moment later. Johnny and Emmrich then popped up on the other side, laying another burst into them. It scared them off, their ten turning to six. They made a retreat, trying to drag a comrade who was bleeding severely. Emmrich signed to just leave them, instead of continuing to the east, wanting to get out. His men followed without question. “Incoming Sarge!” called Joseph, pointing out towards a Jeep going down the street on fire, Molotov flames and debris all over it, going around twenty MPH, burning corpses inside. Emmrich muttered a few choices words, waving to leave it. They had to keep moving. Keep moving. Don’t stop. “Move move move! We’re almost there boys!” called Emmrich, standing on the corner of the last street, moving his hand to wave them through an alley, firing more rounds at a small horde after them. They rushed past him, Emmrich pulling an M67 off his harness, ripping the pin out with his teeth, spitting it out while dropping the fragmentation grenade on the corner of the building. An explosion and the side of the building collapsing partly six seconds later made him feel somewhat better. They quickly rushed up the grass hills towards the mountain, shooting the few that remained on the outskirts, not caring for noise or orientation. Their eyes forwards and wide, their arms tensed and shaking. They just kept running… and running… until finally, they couldn’t go on. Joseph collapsed first, all of them now deep in the woods somewhere. Trevor collapsed against a tree and Johnny fell to his knees, tossing his rifle aside and puking up lunch. Emmrich was in the lead, one hand holding his rifle the other against a tree to prop him up. It was silent for several long moments, on the sounds of panting and fatigue present, as their adrenaline started to simmer down. “What the fuck was that!” asked Joseph, the first to recover his breath and actually say something other than a call to kill. Emmrich righted himself, letting his head hang back as he reached up and swiped the red beret from his head, wiping his face of the sweat. He leans his shoulder against the tree, looking over his shoulder to see Joseph trying to get up, using his rifle as a crutch. Trevor just had his eyes closed and was moving his lips, praying maybe. Ironic, considering he was Agonistic. Emmrich’s eyes glanced to Johnny, to see him having a very numb and clouded stare off into the woods behind them. Emmrich took in another deep breath before speaking quietly. “Keep it down Joe… and that was us getting our asses out before they were eaten for a meal.” replied Emmrich with a snap, the Pfc looking slightly cowed. Emmrich shook his head, sliding down the tree slowly, sitting down haphazardly. The silence resumed as they finally all somewhat recovered. Trevor opened his eyes, moving over to Emmrich and holding out a hand, looking worse for the wear. Emmrich grabbed the offered hand with a nod, his Cpl having his back as usual. Standing and adjusting his rifle sling, he looked over all of them. “Form up!” he called, all of them slowly moving into a huddle around him, their ears trained, their eyes roaming constantly. “Command is KIA at this point no doubt. HQ is out of comms range for now, until we get communications back up. So at this point, we are in uncharted, hostile, and extremely dangerous territory boys.” All of them looked a little shaken and pale at that. But then Emmrich gave then one of his rare smiles. Trevor raised an eyebrow while Johnny and Joseph looked quite lost. “Even then, we just made it out of day one… that means we’re doing pretty good so far boys. The last point of command was somewhere around Cherno, but they’ve gone quiet too… at this point. That means either the fleet is now HQ or the Naval Base back in the Balkans. Either way, we aren’t anywhere near for EVAC. We need to keep going, stick together, and trust each other more now than ever…” reported Emmrich quietly, glancing to his watch, then looking back up towards them. “Where to then sir?” asked Trevor, Joseph, and Johnny looking to him for a moment then back at Emmrich. “Well, we need to head north. Then maybe out west. If a command is still active out that way, we can get EVAC there.” reasoned Emmrich, looking over in said direction. “We travel another few klicks, then we rest for the night.” All of them nodded at this, taking the time to now examine their munitions and armament. Exchanging mags and supplies with quiet whispers, evening out the supplies among them. After this was said and done, Emmrich started off a slow walk west, raising his hand and moving it in a circle. “Tungsten Squad! Oscar Mike!” he called, all forming upon him. While Emmrich wasn’t superstitious much, even if he was a Christian, the cold feeling in his stomach told him now or even in the near future was time to hope for such things. *Memory I end…* **Emmrich awoke with a start, a few beads of sweat sliding down his face. He could see that Waters and Diane were still talking, catching up. He heard Lucky downstairs somewhere. He slowly got up and opened the door, walking down the stairs. He muttered to Lucky he was going out for a bit, heading over to the well a few paces away. He leaned down and washed off his head, the cooling water waking him up a bit, and sorting him.** **Leaning against the wall outside minutes later… Emmrich started to cry quietly. Oh, he wished he knew now what he did then. Then his friends wouldn’t be dead. His men wouldn’t be dead.**
  6. ItzThatcher

    The Audio Log of Sergeant Marshal R. Emmrich

    **The crackling of an audio tape would come forth above the silence, though somewhat bad in quality, ultimately still understandable** "Audio Log... Sgt. Emmrich of the 41st Rapid Response Company... Day estimated to be 421 something like that... Time: 2300 hundred hours, or around that time." *There would be a crackle and the sound of a wheezy breath, and slightly labored breathing* "Sometime ago I met a woman... a woman who gave me hope that perhaps this world isn't ending... but that perhaps decency will live on... and that we may rebuild with it." *Then the man would cough but it didn't sound like he was sick. More like he was injured. There would be the sounds of a bottle being opened and drunk from* "I remember it, even if it was only half a day ago." **Sgt. Emmrich sat in the dark, having woke up around an hour ago. He was briefly able to recall that "Waters" went on ahead to help some poor sap from a tight situation. A man trapped in by Wolves if he recalled the radio broadcast. While "Waters" did want to make sure Emmrich was alright, he didn't want to refuse the call for help. Emmrich didn't think he should either, even if the said man just had three bullets impact his chest a few hours before. A case of scientific testing, seeing if a Plate Carrier was worth the weight. They decided not, and Emmrich had the bruised ribs to prove it. Breathing in slightly labored, but trying to keep quiet, Emmrich considered falling asleep again seeing it was nearing late evening. But the dryness in his throat didn't want to let him. Sighing and coughing a bit, he leaned against the barn wall, looking to the rafters above, just letting the silence hang in the air... until it was broken.** **Emmrich snapped his eyes to the boxes the concealed him, frowning while slowly picking up the pistol that "Waters" had left him along with some supplies. Pulling back the slide only a bit to make sure it was already chambered, he slowly brought his left knee up. Gripping the pistol, a P07, in both hands and using his knee as a platform, Emmrich waited. He was neither in the mood, nor the health condition for combat. Hopefully, they would find nothing and leave him be. But God and Luck liked to fuck with you.** **Emmrich saw them long before they saw him, with Emmrich saying in a low, scratchy, but not unkindly voice** "You'll find nothing here. I've got friends coming back soon... so you best leave." **Emmrich saw them freeze, looking to his spot concealed within the shadow. He made sure his pistol trained on their body was visible but unfortunately wasn't able to keep the frontest parts of his face concealed, possibly showing his lips, nose, and Red Beret. The person was stiff as the dead, wearing a baggy coat and a motorcycle helmet. There was silence between them and Emmrich almost thought they might try to be stupid until he saw an odd sight.** **The person seemed to be shifting their weight between their feet, a sign of confliction. Emmrich cared not, silently observing their mental dilemma, as he was more focused and concerned for his own life and health than their mental indecision. After the few moments they've been standing there, Emmrich noticed a few minor details in the failing light of the evening. Their hands were thin and small, and their heigh under the average for a man. So either they were a young kid or a woman. The Sergeant's thoughts were answered when she finally let a suffering sigh escape her mouth and spoke up to him.** "Look... I cannot in good conscience leave you here like this... You got food and water?" **She spoke, her voice sincere but Emmrich had been alive for over a year in this shite hole and words and tone meant nothing to him. He spoke nothing, not wanting to give anything away to a possible threat. But out of the corner of his eyes, he could see he was almost out of the water. His labored breathing also wasn't getting much better either and she probably could tell. But like an injured wolf, he wouldn't budge or bark. Preferring to lay and wait. She seemed to notice this and let out another one of her suffering sighs.** "Look... Give me something to get you some... You know what forget it. I'll go down to the town just north of here and get you some food and water alright?" **Emmrich just kept his silence, but his look, if she could've seen it, was the epitome of "Yeah... Right... you do that." Either she seemed to get the message or went to do what she willed, as she slowly stepped back out of vision. Then Emmrich listened, hearing her footsteps leave the barn and outside, fading soon after that. After another few minutes, Emmrich finally relaxed and untensed his body and shoulders, setting the pistol aside but near him. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and sighed. He really really didn't want to kill a woman, or anyone really. He may be a Marine, trained to kill. "Born to kill" one of the many mottos that came from the Corps. But even then, the killing was his last method. He already killed too much since this whole damn thing started.** **He didn't hear anything more for an hour or two, thinking the woman just left him be. While he wanted to leave his current location he was neither in the condition nor position to do so. "Waters" expected to meet him here, and he couldn't move because of his current ailment. Sighing, letting his head hang and considering falling asleep he heard footsteps again. Tightening his jaw, he picked up his pistol and readied himself again. If she brought "Friends"... this was about to get very ugly. He smirked to himself though. At least he could go out fighting... like his brothers.** "Hey! I'm back from the town... I've got food and water for you... I'm coming in slowly." **Emmrich didn't think he needed to reply. It seemed they were smart enough to go into a town of infected alone. Then they were smart enough to know that anything stupid would get them a bullet. He eyed them coming in slowly, food in a bag in one hand, a PET bottle of water in the other. She slowly walked over, setting them near his feet but not in his personal space, then she slowly stepped back but her hands still in the air and away from her sides and gun. Emmrich eyed this, then glanced to the water bottle. That looked mighty fine right now, but his eyes went back to the woman. He also didn't want to be caught off guard. They stayed like this several moments until Emmrich decided that she didn't seem to want to do anything else until he accepted the items. So Emmrich slowly scooted along the dirt ground, pistol still trained, and eyed the bottle. The cap was still sealed... damn lucky finding that nowadays. Glancing up at her, he then flipped open the flap on the bag, showing a can of food and some other stuff. He smiled a bit to himself but didn't let her see it. Perhaps... decency wasn't dead?** **Emmich then slid back, but taking the offer items with him, and giving the woman the barest of nods in gratitude. She seemed to read this, and nodded a bit back, slowly of course. Obviously, she was wary of him, yet it seemed her morals also wouldn't let him suffer either. What a strange woman. Setting the pistol in his lap, but within instant reach should she try something, he eased against the wall and opened the bottle, drinking from it greedily. He throat started to feel much better after that, and he was grateful. Silence remained between the awkward and tense duo as the night progressed, Emmrich taking sips of water, with the woman moving slowly to sit against a box but still within his perfect view.** **Emmrich eyed this, seeing she made it more difficult for her to make an offensive move. He eyed the pistol in his lap, as she started to slowly remove her Motorcycle helmet and sunglasses. He figured he could do something similar to bring a better peace between them. So he moved the pistol out of his immediate person, rather setting it next to him. Still within reach of course, but not in a threating manner. She watched him as he drank and ate the little food there was, soon speaking up softly.** "So... how'd you end up here?" **Emmrich almost choked, not expecting the question or the silence to be broken between them. He eyed the woman a moment longer, before speaking softly. His voice was better and younger sounding. Texas Southern in accent.** "Been here since it started..." **He said in a brief reply. She rose an eyebrow and tilted her head a little, eyeing him. He shook a little, adjusting his coat and then she spoke up.** "You got something to keep you warm?" **Emmrich said nothing but showed the overcoat he was wearing over his combat clothing. While nothing like a fire, which he didn't want to start in this place, especially during the nighttime it would suit him just fine. She nodded at this, before speaking softly.** "How much in the beginning...?" **Emmrich eyed her a long moment, before sighing. He had seen her belt, custom for sure, a holster and waist belt. What was unique about it was that it had old fashion circle stars as the belt buckles. He knew few who wore stuff like that here, and he knew where she likely could've come from, or what her occupation was. Of course, nothing was certain but to could make inferences. Figuring it wouldn't hurt anybody, he reached up to his neck and pulled out the chain that was concealed underneath his coat. Upon it, was five dog tags. The first two were his information as a soldier... but the other three were obviously other Marines.** "That bad huh...?" **Emrich just gave her a long, weary, worn look from his blue eyes. It was a time, memories, and moments he would rather forget, but would haunt him for the rest of his time on Earth. He was neither in the mood nor mental state to talk about it, so he wouldn't. She seemed to accept that, and silence resumed between them. As Emmrich was eating a bit of the food, he decided that it was only fair to fish for info back since she did.** "What about you?" **Emmrich asked in his more rougher voice. He drank a little water and cleared his throat, showing her he didn't mean anything from the gruffness. She seemed to be conflicted about telling him and he started to frown at that until her soft voice spoke up.** "I was with a... Coworker. We were in Greece for a convention of sorts." *Emmrich rose an eyebrow at that. Greece. That was a very very long ways away from here. But he guessed it wasn't so different from his own past. Going from the Balkans with NATO fleets and landing in Elecktro with US Marines. Then he spoke up after taking another sip on his throat.** "Well hate to say it... but I think you are more than just a stone's throw from Greece." "Yeah... Guess you could say that... I ended up here on a boat." **Emmrich coughed a bit, looking at her strangely for that since he knew NATO positioned itself all around the waters of Chernarus. Nothing was allowed in or out. Search, Destroyed, and maintain the quarantine. That was the objective for them. Unfortunately, he was on the wrong side of the Quarantine.** "You know this place is Gilligan's Island right?" **He commented, saying something that would attempt to break the ice. Judging by the crack of a slight grin on her face, it worked.** "Gilligan and his ship shipwrecked." **Emmrich lost his grin at that, looking saddened at the news. He knew NATO had the fleet maintain the Quarantine, under severe orders to not anything in or out that was unauthorized. Seeing she was a victim of that order struck a chord in him.** "All hands lost?" **There was a long moment between them as she seemed to decide on what to tell him, though he hopes she wouldn't give him one of the half hopeful truths others like to delude themselves with. This point in time, the world didn't need that anymore.** "All hands lost..." **She revealed in a quiet tone, and Emmrich frowned deeply letting his head down a bit. He muttered a silent prayer for the souls lost to sea on that boat of her's. He was sure they had only the best of intentions, and in the end, NATO nor God would grant them passage.** "You have my sympathies..." **He said quietly, assuming that her Coworker was among those lost. She gave him a soft but grateful nod, and silence kept between them for some time as Emmrich finished eating and drinking, preferring to rest. While he wanted to sleep and his eyelids were playing tugowar, he wouldn't let himself drop guard around this woman. While she had only seemed to have the best intentions at this moment, he met and dealt with the smiling dagger.** "So... what can I call ya?" **Emmrich chewed his cheek a bit at that. He was actually still under the authority of the United States Government to not reveal his name or objective. Even then he still also didn't want to give too much away about him.** "You can call me "M"." **Emmrich responded quietly, figuring that was enough for her. She then cracked a grin and spoke up.** "Well don't expect me to call you Aunty M." **Emmrich couldn't help the small grin that cracked upon his lips at that remark, and she smiled back seeing that humored him. He eased just a bit, but he still didn't let up his guard, but he started figuring this woman meant no harm.** "Wouldn't want you to.." **The silence continued for moments afterward as Emmrich debated on asking her for her own name. While he didn't give her much, his friends called him M, or at least compatriots. After a long moment he spoke up quietly.** "What can I call you Miss?" **Emmrich saw her stiffen a bit. He blinked, obviously she had something not so good happened when people asked that and he considered and telling her to forget it, not wanting to cause discomfort to his savior for the day. But she replied quietly and kindly.** "Diane..." **Emmrich nodded, and then the silence continued for a long moment, both of them staring in their own directions. After another hour or so of that, Emmrich spoke up quietly.** "You mentioned something about a Convention... what was it about?" **Emmrich asked, wondering he could pry into that. Perhaps in a way, he could let her delve back into better times for this, and entertain himself for a bit. She looked to him and seemed to be thinking upon her words wisely. At least she was smart. He didn't meet too many smart people nowadays ironically.** "It was a convention to share Apprehension Techniques with fellows of my field." **Emmrich nodded, thinking upon her words. Apprehension Techniques weren't something exactly normal for the public. So either it was some sort of Paramilitary or Private Sector convention for that or Law Enforcement. Judging by her belt too, Emmrich's inferences shorten considerably. There was a long moment after that, in fact into the next day with both of them not sleeping simply comfortable in the company of a non-hostile entity. But all things come and go. Emmrich's breathing became less labored through the night and he started to feel much better by the time of the next day. Apparently, she seemed to figure this as the next morning she started to slowly get up and stretch her stiff muscles and limbs, slowly, of course, to not cause him discomfort. He eyed her, seeing a flash on her belt as she did one stretch. He looked and the morning light showed a part of a badge. A United States Marshal Badge. Raising an eyebrow, but not commenting on it, he simply eyed her.** "Morning is here and it looks like you'll make it through... Do you need anything medical? Did your friends treat you?" **Emmrich eyed her with a raised eyebrow, a look of "If I didn't think I would be alive?". She seemed to get the message, putting her sunglasses back on along with her helmet. Then she turned to look at him, nodding slightly. Then she seemed to start to move from the Barn but something in Emmrich didn't want to let her go without something. So he spoke up softly.** "Diane..." **She paused, looking over her shoulder at him. Emmrich slowly moved up the wall to stand, but didn't make a move towards her, instead just wishing to show that he would make it by himself as he spoke up softly. She was a decent person, and Emmrich wouldn't forget that. So the least he could do was this.** "If you ever need anything... anything at all. If I am still kicking... 102.5 Hz... just call. Okay?" **She shifted her weight on her feet, thinking it over, before nodding in his direction. He nodded back, speaking softly.** "Good luck out there... stay alive." "You too M." **With that, she left, and Emmrich heard her footsteps slowly fade with the wind. He stared at the barn door a long time, looking slightly saddened. He wished she would've stayed. "Waters", Gunner, and himself could've used a person like her. A decent person. They were few in number nowadays, and traveling in packs was better than alone. Looking at the barn door he mentally thought.** 'God... Watch over this woman. Make sure she finds her peace in her travels and nothing of the Devil's influence befalls her path from this point on... Amen.' *Emmrich would finish the tale, now in much better health than he was before. He stood in the same barn, leaning against the door frame. While he chest was still a bit sore, it was much better than a few days before. "Waters" had radioed in earlier, saying he would be at the barn with the sorry man who was trapped by wolves. They would also be there with some supplies but Emmrich eyed the newest addition to his armament. The M4A1 carbine was a welcome friend to the Marine, along with the medical supplies and munitions. It was all because of Diane, and Emmrich wouldn't forget that woman. Her kindness allowed him to live and continue on, and he would try to do the same for others. Maybe he could help her one day, if she ever called.* "End audio." **The audio recording the would crackle before stopping, the moment in time captured forever.**
  7. Emmrich, while coming from the big city, cared more for the small town mentality. So he generally knew everybody in his neighborhood when growing up. His father served in the recent wars and was honorably discharged. Unfortunately, due to the stress and events his father suffered, he became somewhat of a drunkard. By the time Emmrich reached the age of sixteen, he grew fed up with it. They argued a lot, worrying his mother and bringing conflict within their family norms. By the time he reached the age of eighteen when he graduated, Emmrich left the house and signed up with the Marines. Wanting to get away from it all and figuring being halfway across the world would do it. During his first tour, he met his girlfriend, Samatha, in Germany. They soon got together and started their relationship even going with him back to the US. When Emmrich did get back, he found out from his mother that his father had died in a bar fight. It made the man sad as they left on a rather bad note, and now he would never fix that. Deciding to not make the same mistakes his father did, Emmrich took it upon himself to become a Christian, like his father wanted. He abstained from drinking and went on another tour. Unfortunately, the tour sent him straight to Chernarus during the fall.
  8. Edmund Fitch was born in the summer of 1982 in New York City. He grew up knowing what the "big city" was like, and just how many people and things happened within. Unfortunately, his mother died when he was fifteen, due to a mugging. His father became a drunkard afterward and beat him. Though Fitch grew up fast and learned to fight back, eventually leaving his father behind at the age of seventeen. Making it through high school and making ends meet, Fitch joined up with the NYSP Academy in Albany, becoming a Trooper when he was twenty-one. For the next five or so years, Fitch did the beat, learned, and adapted in the more seedier parts of New York City. Yet he wasn't satisfied. Even with being promoted to Sergeant during this time, he still felt he wasn't making a difference. So when he was nearing twenty-six years old, he decided to head back to school and start to learn Criminal Justice. After a full year, making sure he learned enough, he applied for the BCI in New York City. He was accepted soon after and served over eight years, becoming a Senior Investigator in the BCI. Finally, when he reached the age of thirty-six he decided to take a two-month vacation, which he had been saving for, in order to go see the world. Unfortunately, it landed him in Chernarus, and he's been surviving ever since.
  9. ItzThatcher

    World Lore Thread - Broadcasts, Stories, Rumors and Facts

    Again, just caught up and love it all.
  10. ItzThatcher

    Adding an 'Open to hostilities' field on the character pages

    So I normally don't post too much on the forums. Hardly anything as of late really, but I would like to think that when I do it is a topic of some importance or matter. At least me personally, I'll let you all decide for yourselves after I'm done. Point is, while the new system with Open Hostilities is interesting in concept, though a little odd, I think that it shouldn't be just applied to characters alone. It should be applied to groups and factions as well. As in the sense of, if a Group is in Hostile Mode, then all members and characters within the said group should have Hostile Mode on. Same for Protected and Hardcore modes as well. Though personally, I think there shouldn't be a Protected mode for a group, as it would provide more reason for the group to stay together rather than disperse in two or three man parts while RPing. My argument for this reason. If characters are allowed to be engaged, but not engage openly themselves, then it is kind of defeating the purpose. But if you install requirements for a group to be entirely one mode, I think this would change the roleplay quite a bit. Allowing groups to be engaged openly by either singular people or other groups would be fun. The counter-argument against this is that if such a system were to be implemented, then most groups would probably remain within the protected mode. This would be the same result if a system applied to individual characters, as is now, remains. So my point, simplified, is that if we have a system like this for characters, we should have a system like this for groups. Or we don't have this system at all. As it would seem unfair for characters to be subjected to this, and groups are immune to the effect. Regards, ItzThatcher
  11. Marcus was born in the late winter of 1985 in Missoula, Montana. Growing up for four years as a single child to a hard strung father in the local industry jobs, while making money, sometimes couldn't cut it. His mother worked two jobs, mainly Maid and other such related services. So he didn't get much growing up. Until just after his fourth birthday, he learned from his father that he was getting a brother. Brother. Such a strange concept it was to him at the time, in his younger mind. While today the word "Brother" to Marcus means several things... some good... some bad. It wasn't too much later that his brother, Rupert, was born. Go another ten years ahead, and times have changed. His father was in a better position at work, more supervisor than hands on. This got him a much higher pay raise than anticipated to where their mother no longer had work and instead stayed home to take care of his brother and himself. He loved his mother dearly, and would do anything to make her happy... In the end, while everything seemed on the all time high... it wasn't to be long. Their father was killed in a work accident two months later, pressed to death by a hydraulic press that helped make car rims. While they received compensation and other such, though not near enough for to be somewhat fair. Their mother was forced to work overtime with two jobs, just to barely help feed and keep the home they had. While some United States programs and services helped, it made things difficult and his mother very sad. It was one of the defining moments in his life, that he didn't like seeing his mother sad. So from then on he researched, even as young as he was, to find careers that would make a lot of money. So his mother didn't cry anymore. In the year of 2003, when Marcus graduated with honers and with plenty of knowledge about Civil Engineering and his mind still set on what to do. Of course, a shock was that his mother was able to pay for the first four semesters in the University of Montana in Missoula. His mother told him that his father and her had saved up most of that money when he was younger, and she kept saving after he died. Happy for the kindness and now seeing that he could honestly learn without problems, Marcus poured himself into learning. He left 5 years later at the age of 23 with a Master's in Civil Engineering. For the next 5 years he spent going from place to place all over the United States, earning money and getting jobs he could, saving it all up for his mother just like he promised long ago. Seeing the rest of the country, and sometimes abroad, brought a large perspective into his life, especially mortality. So, during those eight years, he sought out a partner to spend his life with. Eventually, he met a Foreign Intern Student, Galina. She was from the country of Chernarus and the more they met up and talked... the more they realized how much they liked about the other. Soon enough, towards the end of those five years, they got engaged. Their honeymoon was to be in Chernarus, and Marcus felt as if life was suddenly taking a very different turn then what he planned. This mainly due to his promise. A month before they were due to leave, Marcus made a trip home. But when he got there, he found what he never wanted to find. Their mother had died due to brain cancer. Family related. She has been dead for two months. When he found his brother to confront him about it, he found him living barely and scraping by, mainly on welfare and other such. But what made it worse was that his brother became a Meth Addict... a fate all to often and real in Montana. Marcus, not happy with his last living relative living like this, ushered him out of the rundown apartment, and to his house. He helped him get clean, finish high school, and did everything Marcus believes a brother does. Unfortunately his postponed his honeymoon and the love of his life told him to come see her in Chernarus. When Marcus turned 30, and he made sure his brother would do well, he set off to Chernarus on one way flight, to be with the woman he loved. He found her, still his, and finally married her there, in Chernogorsk. For the next two and a half years he lived happily and had two children. Both beautiful and wonderful. Their names were Dima, the older sister, and Vlad, the younger brother. Twins. For once in his life, Marcus felt... whole. Then it was all ripped away from him, an infection spread, ruined his life, ruined the life of his family, and left him all alone in the world... cold... and alone.
  12. ItzThatcher

    My Thought Logs

    **I find myself looking over the wilderness surrounding me, recalling a scant few trips I did take back up in the Rockies. I would idly rub my jaw while glancing at the latest among the few survivors I encountered without guns being drawn and voices yelling. Looking over the couple, then the other two strange fellows, I can't help but wonder to myself what life has in store for me. First the Yacht, then the various things, then Chernogorsk, and now here... Speaking of that... I would glance around the now desolate... reminded of what the kindness of Humanity can show... or really the lack thereof. I would shake my head, shutting my eyes tightly as the memories assault me once more** *Flashback* "Come on! The Checkpoint is only a quarter mile ahead!" called a kid in front of the small group I was with. I would adjust the brim of my hat to look up at the grinning kid running ahead of his parents, with said adults snapping at him to stay close. I normally would smile at such a sight but my grimacing expression was far from that. I've seen their reasons for such harsh treatment and couldn't help but agree. With the way things have gone down from the Yacht and what I've been seeing... it would be quite fair of an action. Musing this though, I couldn't help but wonder how such a kid was able to be as he was given what was going on around him. Perhaps he was just fucked in the head? Or some copping mechanism... not that I would know much about the subject. I would let out a light breath when I could hear the sounds of engines nearing us. Good... at least the local Military still has motor capability. I would slow my slight jog when I saw the beginnings of a car line up ahead with several people talking with soldiers... rather animatedly to be precise. I would narrow my eyes, lowering the Aviators a bit to get a better looked without the shades over my vision. That can't be good... not one bit. The small group I was with eventually reached the car lines and I could see several Chernarussian Defence Forces soldiers sweeping the lines and talking with people in harsh tones, while also pointing or directing back down the road. I would read the body languages going on as the couple talked to one of the soldiers. They were speaking in Chernarussian so I couldn't exactly understand. Soon enough I saw hostile movement when the soldier pushed the father back rather roughly. I snapped my eyes to the motion and stood up to the soldier while standing my ground and helping the man up. "Hey. Asshat. You speak English?" I couldn't help but asking and if the rather venomous look sent my way was any indicator then yes he did. "What the fuck do you want American?!" he responded back harshly. I would take the tone warily, as well as seeing him hold his Kalashnikov, a 74 model, at the ready but not pointing. I would glance around and see various soldiers and pulling out people from their cars and pushing back down the road. "Nothing... I see what is going on... we'll be leaving now..." I would state in a calm tone, the soldier nodding at me crisply before moving off. I would look over the father next to my while brushing off his shoulders. "We need to get going... I don't like how this is going down Grigori..." I would mutter the man, one of the first Chernarussians I met that was kind and could speak English. I would slightly nod over my shoulder to the various actions being displayed. Grigori couldn't help but nod as well. "I agree... he said there is some type of quarantine in effect... no one leaves South Zagoria... no one at all..." I would hear the mutter of Grigori as he responded. Narrowing my eyes, I would gesture to the kid, standing near us while looking scared and holding onto his mother, to start moving the other way. I can faintly recall that we weren't but two steps away when the first shot echoed out. I had snapped my head back to look and saw various people screaming as a soldier shot down a woman... a bite mark clearly visible on her arm as the shirt was ripped open. "Shit..." I would mutter, seeing soldiers raise their rifles. I would then widen my eyes as instead of orders... they just started opening fire. I shoved Grigori at this point. "RUN! FUCKING RUN!" I barked out to the man, my orders heeded with gusto as he quickly grabbed his son up and ran with his wife while I rolled to the side as a burst of gunfire passed near me. I would look about, quickly reaching underneath my jacket to remove the old Colt I recovered on the trip here. I pulled back the slide quickly, hearing the loading of a first bullet into the chamber while holding up at the ready, keeping Grigori and his family within my edge of vision as they ran into the forest. Soldiers continued firing and cutting down civilians as I glanced about. I can't help but watch and be horrified as they killed indiscriminately men, women, and children. I do not know if they were under orders to do such but in this case I could little care of a rat's ass about it. I hear one nearing me on the other side of the buss I was at, to which I raised my pistol and just as the man rounded the bend, received two courtesy bullets to the chest and face for. He fell down and I bolted, running for the trees in an opposite direction of Grigori and his family. I hope they would make it out alright as I heard the calls and various bullets pinging behind me from the trees. Thankfully I was going downhill. After around twenty minutes of running, jogging, and evading, I would be panting while looking from behind a tree, seeing if any of them were still following me. None were as I waited for a solid five minutes. I breath in a relieving breath on my lungs, glad that I at least kept up some of my exercise regimes even after the service. Soon enough, I realized to myself that I was alone once more... *Flashback End* *I open my eyes, after the short stint into my subconscious memories, to look about it once more. Much more... desolate than it used to be. No soldiers. No civilians... no one... well besides the four I've come to be with. Glancing over to them, as well as remembering Diane's and Mr. Water's comments about me being better off with a group than in the woods... I still wondered if I should place bets on the woods. Breathing in shakily a moment, I reach behind me to my pack, pulling out the beat up journal of mine. Wiping a thumb over the cover, while glancing about in the darkness and campfire, I set about retrieving that pen of mine and jotting down some thoughts.* "Time: 2100 Hours on some date in the month of October, suspicion near Halloween... Current Location: Desolate remains of a Checkpoint... myself plus four included. Recent events to myself has translated into joining some couple that I know little of or where they are from. Mostly I know that it seems the man, Mr. Waters, is a US Marshal, and the woman is Diane... and if the banter I hear from them is to be believed, they are possibly in a relationship or just really close, probably partners in the Marshal Service if I had to guess. Either way, while our initial confrontation was less than... cordial, we seem to have come to even keel and compliance with each others' presence. To which I am somewhat grateful... it has been lonely the last few weeks... I picked up an automatic finally after my last hostile encounter, H&K MP5-K model, now finding that such weaponry is now needed. I will let it be known to one Mr. Estacado, should he find this Log, that I stand corrected in my statement and that such a weapon is not needed to one's health and survival... Besides all of this, life has been hard. I cannot help but wonder how Mom is doing... if she is even out there still. From what I've been hearing, the infection is spreading and fast... possibly in the States at this point. I sure hope not... I will be home Mom. Don't you worry. .... I suppose that will be enough for now. I will write more about my various companions as I learn about them. For now, end the log..." **I would finish my scrawl, blinking as I saw that I drew a rather bad imitation of a US Marshal Badge on the page. Smirking a bit while shaking my head, I folded the journal closed while stuffing it back into my back, same with my pen. I would then relax back into the car I was laying against, moving my hat's brim to cover my eyes from the firelight while muttering a quiet notification to the others that I was falling asleep. Soon enough, I could feel the claws of fatigue claw at my eyes, seeking them to be closed, before I fell into a uneventful sleep.**
  13. ItzThatcher

    Falling Stars [John Waters]

    Always good work mate. Just watch out fer dem fookin laser sights! Always pointin!
  14. ItzThatcher

    My Thought Logs

    **I would sigh as I sit down in one of the abandoned buildings in what used to be the major city of Chernogorsk in the South Zagoria Region in the country of Chernarus. I already had a small fire built, cooking some vegetables in a beat up cooking pot as it sat upon a small iron grate and some stones I placed to let it sit on fire. I stare at it a bit before looking over to the broken window and looking out, hearing the occasional voices around the city or the gunfire in the distance. A once proud city reduced to ruble with this... virus. I scratch my face a bit while leaning back into wall behind me with a sigh, looking upwards to the night and stars. It should be around three weeks since I found myself here... I think? Shaking my head I then pull my backpack over and start to rummage through it, pulling out a pen which I lightly bit down on with my teeth to hold it while searching for the next thing. Soon enough I also pull out a small book that had a bit of water stains on some of the pages. It was mostly empty, with a bit of the first pages already written in with various dates. I would look through them and what I wrote during those days before moving to the next empty page. I would shake my left wrist a bit, showing a watch, Fossil brand, that was mechanical with a Skeleton look so I could see the gears and various things. Narrowing my eyes I look at the glow in the dark hands and judge the time. Nodding at this I write down the first things into the new page...** "Time: 2000 hours on assumed date 16th of August... Current Location: Abandoned house in the Chernogorsk City in Chernarus. I find myself pondering the current state of the world around me... finding it ultimately to be expect given the situation we, as humans in this place, are faced with. The unexpectedness of this virus and the havoc it is wrecking on the world seems to be affecting everyone differently. While I've seen several militant groups ranging from the CDF and NATO today I have yet to either contact, meet, or see these VDV Russian Forces... I also finally donated that Kalashnikov model after lugging it around for the past week... my shoulders still feel sore from the amount of weight I was carrying. Right now I am cooking up some vegetable soup... I threw in some carrots, cucumbers, and surprisingly some bell peppers. Those I had to find in the apartment complexes. Someone must've been growing a garden or the like. Either way, making use of them now... I wonder sometimes how Mom is doing... she must be worried sick I bet. Man am I gonna get a tongue lashing when I get back home. Either way... doing fine I guess... Haven't seen any murders or the like yet while here... thank god for that. I've been hearing that the CDF and VDV have been in joint task force... hunting down terrorists or something like that. At least that is what the locals have been telling me. Some people are still around, hoping for evacuation from here. I've been only hearing promises and words from the NATO forces around here that it is coming and that we have to wait... I know the men are just trying to keep people calm but I have a feeling that nothing like that is coming.... Well I am planning to set out in a day or two back to the north end of this region, see what I can find. The CDF forces here have said they could use the ammunition and weapons I gave previously so I could see if I can get that. Also there seems to be some type of pub or bar setting up here too... the Hostess asked me if I could go find some more liquor product for her. Have to look for that as well I guess... Could use some off time in that kind of place, take my mind off... well not really. Can't do that with all that is going around me. Sometimes I wonder how I ended up here? If this was simply happenstance or fate? Who knew a trip abroad to go clear one's mind would result ending up in the middle of a small apocalypse. Fuck me I guess... Well.... that is all for today I guess...." **I would finish writing before closing the book with the pen in it, setting it aside and then stirring the soup a bit, smiling at the smell. Nothing like some good warm stuff for the evening. After a bit I take it off the fire with my leather gloves and use the Swiss Multi tool Spoon to start eating, staring out at the sky once more. I couldn't help but wonder if my Mother was doing the same thing... worrying over me. Can't say I've been in worse situations than now... but certainly similar. Shaking my head and finishing the rest of the soup after around ten to fifteen minutes I stoke the fire and then pack up my things, pulling out the small wool blanket and standing up, grabbing a wooden board. I walk over to the door and lock the two locks, knob and deadbolt, before using a part of the wall and the door, setting the board in firmly. Don't want any surprises in my sleep be if from infected or not. Seen too much of it happen already. Nodding at my work I slowly move back over to my pack and ease myself into the corner, setting the small blanket over myself before leaning my head back and closing my eyes, giving the old pistol in my lap a light handed grip as I slowly nod off into the world of unconsciousness.**
  15. ItzThatcher

    To Be Edge or Not To Be Edge.... That is the question...?

    Please take a look through the first post in this and then vote whether this was edgy or not. Then if those same kind voters would scale it on 0 to 10 on how edgy it was... that would be kind of you. Personally.... High 8 out of ten in Edge Levels.
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