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Server time (UTC): 2019-12-16, 00:59 WE ARE RECRUITING

Geraldo Da Witchi

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  1. *Joakim would pick up his radio, groggy from waking up, and his voice still raspy. His accented voice, stronger than last night but still weak, would fill the speakers of all tuned to the frequency once again, a smile on his face from just overhearing what Charlie had said on a separate frequency.* "It's funny that you say that, Santiago, because even your own leader doesn't want you. Not to mention, it shows how little you know about the situation. Who do you think armed Matthias and I?" *He would laugh for a moment over the radio before continuing* "You realize that North helped us, right? Yeah the plan didn't go quite as well as we would've liked, but at the end of the day, your own people turned on you and now you're an outcast. An army is hunting you, Santiago. Next time, we'll be at even odds. Or even better, you'll be on the sharp end of the stick" *Joakim releases his PTT, standing up as he clutches his side and lets out a small moan of pain as he begins to slowly walk outside*
  2. *Jo picks up his radio, woken up from his sleep by the chatter* "I might talk to some of the people about that Louie, thanks for the offer" *He shuffles a bit in his bedroll, groaning a little bit before pressing his PTT once again* "As for you Johan, I'll get back to you tomorrow. I believe you're in our camp already, right? I'm sure we can have a chat at some point before you leave. I look forward to talking with you." *Joakim releases his PTT for the final time before dozing off back to sleep*
  3. *Joakim would lift his radio up, groaning in pain as his left hand grips his side as he grits his teeth briefly, his eyes closed and his head rested against the wall as he looks over at Ace, passed out across the room. He pressed the PTT as he spoke weakly into the radio, his German accent filling the speakers of all who would be listening* "To all those who would consider themselves friends with Riptide, lead by Borris Petrokov. Events that unfolded tonight between us and Santiago, and his little pack of friends" *He would let out a short laugh as he thought about what had happened, inhaling deeply afterwards before he begins talking again* "Events that threatened the lives of me, Pavel, Ace, and a small group of others, have sparked hostilities between us. Let it be known that any information on the whereabouts of Santiago, or Kirby, will be welcomed, better yet, maybe even rewarded depending on how good, or recent, it is." *He would release the PTT as he coughs, wincing from the pain. He brings his head forward, sitting upright, but yet still watching Ace* "As for you, Santiago, I know you're probably listening in on this." *He pauses for a moment, leaning forward as his face stiffens into a furious glare* "I tried warning you. I told you people would come for you. Now, you've poked the hornet's nest and a swarm is coming for you. I'll hunt you across Chernarus, and beyond. You dare to threaten and hurt me, and people I care about, and so therefore you'll pay the ultimate price. Walking into our camp when our people are asleep or away and taking us, after we let you in and offered you hospitality and friendly conversation, that doesn't make you tough, that makes you a fucking coward. Now, time for me to go. But I'll be seeing you, hopefully soon." *He would release his PTT as he begins to close his eyes, switching off his radio and tucking it away in his pocket before leaning back against the wall, falling into a deep sleep*
  4. *Joakim slowly picks up the radio, wondering if the swine is worth responding to. Inevitably, he press the PTT a final time as he grits his teeth for a moment* You threaten Borris, you threaten us all. Beware, little man, you don't know what you have coming to you. You'd best disappear, or hope we don't run into you or you'll wish you never came to this country. We'll just see how Avery likes you when we tell him you've been threatening Borris, maybe when he sees you again you'll experience a bit of Déjà vu, eh? Either way, I'm sick of hearing your irritating voice, untermensch. You speak like such a big man, so come prove it, I'll knock you down to size again, but this time you'll wish it were Borris who found you. *He slams the radio down, raising the newly-filled magazine up to his weapon as he loads it into the receiver, cocking it as he stands up and exits his house*
  5. *Joakim snaps up his radio, immediately pressing the PTT as his German accented voice barks through the speaker* Your poor attempts as disguise are laughable, do yourself a favour, Nikolai, and just accept we know you. *He releases the PTT as he grimaces at the though of Nikolai's face briefly before pressing the PTT once again* You can threaten us all you want, but let me remind who's the one who's had a wrench wrapped around his skull, shot with his own rifle, and is hated by an uncountable number of people. Come for us, Nikolai, I dare you. I'll be sure you send you out with a welcome back card for next time. *He places the radio down, letting go of the PTT as he sits up against the wall, visibly distraught*
  6. Marik was born in Miroslavl, 1975. His mother, Anastazie, died at child birth, leaving his father, Petr, an only parent to Marik. His father, a former CDF soldier had great pride in his country, laying down his life many times for his comrades and for Chernarus. Growing up, Marik adopted the same pride in Chernarus as his father had, and during his teenage years often got into trouble with the visiting tourists because he believed them to not belong in his country. He wanted them to leave and to take all the other foreigners too, though his ignorance proved nothing but troublesome for him, often being yelled at by the police, sent home to his father, and even cost him a couple of beatings. Petr scolded him, believing that everyone has a right to see the beautiful country they lived in and that they shouldn't be kicked out, but invited in to help Chernarus thrive, and grow. Marik's ignorance faded as he grew older, but his fiery passion ever burning brighter. By the age of 17, Marik had adopted nearly identical ideals to his father. He wanted foreigners to come and love his country, to spend their money and support it's people, to hopefully live there and help the populace grow and the country expand it's opportunities. Marik signed up for the CDF only 3 months after he reached 17, wanting to lay his life for everything and everyone he loved, to show what true Chernarussians are made of and their fearsome battle prowess. Marik served for nearly a decade before leaving the CDF and joining NAPA, a Chernarussian nationalist group that represented his ideals better than the CDF had. He served with them until their disbanding in the wake of the 2009 civil war. After the disbanding of NAPA, Marik had decided he wasn't going to serve any longer, though often scolding at reading about whatever influences the USA or Russia had on his country, leaving him with a deep urge to fight again, and rather live with his wife and child in South Zagoria in a little town called Polana. His wife, Ivanka, and his daughter, Danika, both tending to a garden they'd grown while Marik worked on the nearby farm, they grew several flowers ranging from tulips to roses to daisies. Though Marik always loved red roses, he'd given a bundle of them to his wife every anniversary since their wedding. Marik enjoyed life away from conflict, though often missing being able to fight for what he was brought up to love so dearly, but at the same time happy that he got to spend time with his family that he loved more. The first week of the infection came, and when Marik heard about the Russian presence in South Zagoria and their annihilation of the Kamensk Military base, he was outraged. He wanted to go out and fight them, send them back to their homeland but his wife and child were the only things holding him back. The only two things in the world that he loved more than his country. Every day he read about attacks in Severograd, they say rabid soldiers were attacking people, seemingly lost their minds in a bloody, pointless rampage. Every day his urge to fight grew, but yet he did not. Instead, he packed his things and sought refuge in Chernogorsk. He put his faith in the CDF to protect his family from whatever was coming. Weeks passed, the infection only growing stronger, the bombings constant. Marik realized Chernogorsk was not safe and decided he was going to take his family to live in the woods, but the day they begun to pack is when things got as bad as they possibly could for him. The infected came, people running through the streets for their lives, some screaming for their lives as the infected caught them. Marik and his family tried to escape through the streets, making their way to the docks where Marik knew a boat was and his plan was to drive it to safety, but as they reached the docks, a group of infected caught them by surprised and slaughtered his wife almost instantly, tearing her to pieces in mere seconds before Marik's eyes as he screamed and fired shot after shot from his handgun into them, but to seemingly no effect. He picked up his daughter and tried to run to the docks, but one of the infected grasped his ankle, causing him to fall, and before he could turn around to shoot it, another one came up and took his daughter from his arms. He pulled the trigger on his gun, but heard nothing but clicks, having fired all of his ammo into the previous group. His daughter dragged away before his eyes, kicking and screaming as more infected started to pull her to pieces. Marik fought for his life, managing to escape through the streets of Cherno into the woods. Once he was certain he was free of infected, he collapsed. For what seemed like hours he lay in the dirt and leaves, crying, yelling. His heart aching and the final memories of his family flashing through his mind thousands of times. When night started to fall, he rose and looked for shelter. After wandering for nearly an hour he found an old farmstead where he lay in the pile of hay inside, continuing to cry into the night. For days he did nothing other than what he needed to, picking apples from nearby trees and drinking water from the well in a nearby town. Eventually he overcame his great sorrow, but deciding to stay in this town he'd found. The farmstead was just outside of it, infected rarely wandering out that far, and if he did he had an old combat knife from his CDF days to dispatch them with. For nearly a year he lived here, interacting with survivors who came across his home, and ones he'd found out in his travels. He often listened to an old radio he'd found, listening to other survivor's transmissions. He'd scavenged equipment from military checkpoints, towns, cities. He survived. With the rise of powerful groups in the area, he often thought about joining one, to fight for a cause once again, but always decided against it. He never truly agreed with any of their beliefs, so never had the motivation to fight. Though, he had a feeling that the fire inside him would ignite again soon. He knew that his time to fight would come, though indeterminate.
  7. Joakim was born in Munich to two German parents, Helmuth and Monika, who had lived in Berlin as they grew up but they decided to relocate somewhere else since they'd grown sick of living there. Joakim was named after his grandfather who flew fighter planes for the Luftwaffe, who had earned multiple commendations for his excellence in the air. Jo was raised to be a respectable man, friendly, polite, but stood up for himself and for others who mattered to him. It was common sight for Joakim to be called into the principle office as a child for starting a fight with someone who'd insulted him or his friends, and often his father would support him and tell him to fight for what he cares for, therefore Joakim hasn't really been the type of guy to just abandon his beliefs or the people he cares about. Sure, he's bent the rules a little in order to have some fun or to do things more efficiently but his overall morals and standpoints have generally stayed the same. He met his wife in early January of 2007, her name was Clara. They dated for about 2 years before they eventually decided to marry in September of 2009, moving in together in their own house in Munich. In July of 2011, Clara was diagnosed with breast cancer. She went through with chemotherapy but she inevitably passed away, leaving Joakim in a state of depression and an empty feeling in his chest. He never wanted to move on, he always held an engraved lighter she'd given him for their second anniversary, the words "For my love, so I can always be with you". Joakim grew up idolizing his grandfather, always wanting to fly and fight in the air, hence why he enlisted in the German Air force in 2008 before later being transferred to NATO. He went through basic training, acquiring first aid training, firearms training, and several other skills such as formations and basic tactics. For years he flew jets, often sent on behind-closed-doors retaliatory strikes that included targets in Syria, Afghanistan, and Iraq. His plane, a Tornado IDS he named "Creeping Death", his favourite place in the world was in it's seat, where he truly felt at home and like there was nothing wrong in the world. There was nothing more exhilarating to Joakim than seeing his targets go up in a glorious blaze of shrapnel and fire, the rush of being on another jet's tail and having the crosshairs dead on. The adrenaline flowing through his veins, but able to maintain intense focus, he quickly became one of the German Air Force's best pilots. When NATO were dispatched to Chernarus in 2017, Joakim was assigned to a strike force where he'd fly and provide support for future ground assaults/defences. August 12th, he was assigned his second mission in Chernarus, to strike Russian reinforcements attempting to support their forces attacking a UN camp. Joakim had sight of his targets, crosshairs lined up he struck them right where it hurt, a single pass seemingly crippling the VDV beyond recovery. Though it wasn't long before the VDV got their air defenses ready, heatseekers flying right for Creeping Death, and flares can only do so much. Joakim wasn't able to evade the missiles, though managing to eject before his aircraft blew up in flames. He landed hard, hitting tree branches before he was knocked unconscious. He awoke days later to the company of a few men who'd found him, he was out for a few days, though they'd taken care of Joakim well, or more so, well enough. He wasn't in the best shape, but his wounds were patched up. He'd eventually repay what he owed to the men in supplies. Supplies he'd stolen, killed people for, robbed people of. He quickly adjusted to this new life. He learned how the infected worked and he became adept at sneaking past them, or killing them. Joakim went off on his own after repaying his debt, living in seclusion in the woods, moving constantly. He liked the alone time he got. It gave him a chance to reflect on everything, to take in how his life was going to be from now on and how this new land and society works. Though, he still holds hope to find a plane and fly himself out of Chernarus.
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