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groovy kase

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groovy kase last won the day on June 3 2019

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  1. Link to the source of punishment (report/post): Why the verdict is not fair: So based on the 1.5 rule (particularly the highlighted bit), it states "meaningless expressions like "lol", jokes, memes, banter or replies containing only pictures, gifs, or unrelated media." which I did none of the above. I simply agreed with a statement that helped in a prior conversation on that thread clarify what I was trying to explain but couldn't. Thus, me agreeing is an opinion. Which is also in the highlighted section "meaningful opinion." It was an opinion. Additional statements/comments explaining your point of view: I believe this should be reviewed by a different set of staff, as it seems honestly a bit ridiculous to get points for something like that when there's much worse on the forums that doesn't get flagged. EDIT: I would also like to add how my post was taken completely out of the context from the entire conversation that was taking place in that thread. What would you like to achieve with this appeal: Point removal. What could you have done better?: Nothing, I was within the rules.
  2. Is that Hunter I see on your profile picture? 😉

    1. Mexi


      No, that’s Ton Hardy playing Alfie Solomans in Peaky Blinders. 

    2. TheMrGasMask


      Who is Ton Hardy? 🤔

    3. Mexi


      Clearly a typo. 


    4. groovy kase

      groovy kase

      Read my profile gif

    5. TheMrGasMask



  3. The ones that aren't nomadic will have plenty.
  5. You just have to know who your prey is. There's some people where you can get hostile RP from and others where the minute you even say "put your hands--" you'll be in a firefight before you even blink.
  6. Oh don't get me wrong, the campfire RPers are just as bad. But to say bandits help keep gear hoarders in check? Not exactly 100% accurate, it varies on the groups.
  7. I mean considering most of the bandits on the server generally ARE also the gear hoarders, it's kinda hard to keep it in check. Just a thought. As for OP's question: I agree with you. The poor terrible excuse of "It's the apocalypse, deal with it." is the dumbest logic I see around. It's a ROLEPLAY server, regardless if it's an "apocalypse" if you want to play it that way, I would just dome you before interacting with you and take your shit that way. The whole point of a roleplay server is to (You guessed it) roleplay. Yet when you want to have bandits hold people up, at least give them some flavor. Hearing the whole "Shut up or you'll be shot" is just a sore excuse to imply "I can't roleplay, I'm a PvPer on a server with rules and if I can loophole around said rules to get more stuff for my friends and I, nobody can stop me." and that's the type of mentality that you might happen to find from your holdups. While I haven't played in 2 months, that was the general consensus and RP I often experienced or witnessed while I was active.
  8. Just thought I'd throw my 2 cents on this if there were a say.... 10-20 year time jump? Weapons I mean after such a long time-jump forward, would it be reasonable to say that melee weapons would be more the norm for combat than guns? Sort of go backwards in time in the sense that after awhile, guns would run out of ammo (unless there's a mod for crafted bullets). It'd be more medieval in that sense, I get this was a war-occupied country and ammunition was in surplus but realistically after that many years, you'd think most people after all the firefights that occur on this server and more, ammunition runs dry. Clothing & Armor I guess my inspiration comes more from the new Dying Light 2 coming out, where more people are using makeshift weapons, armor, etc. Factories and electricity isn't around still so fixing any clothing would have to be done by hand which most likely means most people wouldn't have all these fancy designer clothes unless they've been living in a bunker with power. Kevlar and stuff after awhile would get worn and torn unless it's just been sitting in some crate that somehow after all this time, NOBODY has looted? Groups & Factions I suppose raider groups would be more common, as well as farmers, cannibals, settlers, traders (even roaming traders like caravans, could open up a large alley of various RP interaction. Like you could find in the Fallout franchise.). I think the groups should have more of a uniqueness to them in the sense of clothing, morals, maybe even their own languages? Would be neat to see some "The 100" type shit, like the Grounders had their own language which derived from various other old languages even some Jamaican slang. Even have some that have some more beliefs like in Far Cry New Dawn, where they practically wear BMX/Dirt Bike clothing and motorcycle helmets. Groups that have developed new religions where as old ones are more so forgotten, IE. Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, etc. Where they've strayed away from their original beliefs. Settlements So as I mentioned prior regarding "settlers" obviously we need settlements for that. So I think there could be various settlements which have perhaps different laws or rules and every settlement might be different or some might be under the same banner and carry out the same rules. Some where to settle quarrels there's duels. Or others it might be a voting system. Others they might just get kicked out at the first sign of trouble, regardless who started the issues. Some settlements provide people with jobs like finding food, supplies, etc. They can even provide different services, some might have traders in their settlement where as others might not. Conclusion I think seeing a time-jump would be a great idea overall, if everyone were to apply themselves and actually care. Which seems like a lot to ask for some people to take a Roleplay server more seriously instead of "Stick-em-up" kinda RP. I get it, some of us get bored. I'm guilty of doing said RP myself, but I'm willing to admit it and say that it's purely because there wasn't enough on the server to provide at times. I apologize if this is all over the place, just kinda wrote whatever came to mind as I went. EDIT: Just spit balling ideas here.
  9. Re: Also when Whitenames don't know the power of the apes
  10. Name: Victor "Vitya" Lazarevic Age: 26 Birthplace: Sinistok, Chernarus Group Affiliation: The Black Veins Role in Group: Leader (Assumed) I was born in Chernarus same as most of the people you would find in this country, which is pretty fucking obvious, ano? My mother died giving birth to me, so as far as I can remember, I grew up underground or outside of mine shafts. My father couldn't afford to take the days off even with a newborn so he made a backpack to fit me in while he worked day in and day out. That was the definition of a man, he never once begged for a break. He didn't expect one and he wasn't going to ask either, not even because he was afraid to lose his job, but because he had the ambition to continue at any cost, something he taught me as I grew up. By the time I was only twelve years old, the mining supervisor, an Americký by the name of Carl Lane had decided it was time for me to start working alongside by father in the mines. While my father argued I was too young and it was too much of a hazard, the Americký disagreed and I was put on the official workstation roster as a canary. I believe this is what killed my father in the long run, the stress and worry of me dying by going first into the mines to verify their safety. I was seventeen when my father dislocated his back during a work shift which rendered him permanently unfit to work, this ruined him. He felt that he had failed me, but I reminded him that I would continue his work for him and never abandon it. I saw the pride in his eyes when I said this to him. Though unfortunately, I lost him only a few months later due to an unrelated respiratory disease. By the time the outbreak had begun, we had no clue. Neither the supervisor nor the foreman had decided to tell us workers anything and just abandoned us. It was late one afternoon as we were moving shipments of coal out and preparing to load them onto the trucks that we realized the trucks were gone. All of us looked at each other in shock and gathered outside to collectively try and deduce the reasoning. Were we being laid off? Were Chedaki troops approaching? It was almost as if God himself had answered our questions not even a few moments later when a fellow miner suddenly became enraged, his eyes went bloodshot and his hands came up to his face in a shriek of horror as his fingers curled disturbingly to mask his visage. I had felt a cold shiver run down my spine and in my gut I knew something was wrong. I was quick to backpedal towards the mine and I noticed other workers following suite. Unfortunately, not everyone caught on and as expected, that now "infected" worker began to chase after us. He managed to bite another worker and just like that, it spread. One turned to two, two to four and so on. Those of us that were lucky had ran back into hiding through the little narrow caves we had made while mining. I recall one of the workers being right behind me, I watched him get torn apart by the infected before me. I could actually hear and feel the vibrations from my heartbeat in my ears, any noise fell silent and it felt as if time had slowed. What was this? It had been a month now that we had been living in the mines. The other workers were beginning to realize that our rations had run thin and we would need to begin to leave this place behind us at some point. I couldn't disagree with them even if I tried, safety was becoming a distant memory the more time we spent buried alive. We had deduced a plan to gather all the tools and mining supplies that we had in the lockers below, to prepare an assault and escape from the mines. I grabbed a pickaxe and my father's old backpack. Throwing it over my shoulder before taking several deep breathes to mentally prepare myself for what was to come. One of the older workers told us to be ready to charge out and that we should aim our pickaxes at their heads as it seemed to be the most effective way to kill them almost instantly. My eyes shifted to my fellow bratři as we knew just based on facial expressions that we shared similar emotions of fear and uncertainty about the plan ahead. Though despite all odds, we gave one another a nod of encouragement before charging for the exit. It became a blood bath, rotten corpses everywhere and as I looked around at the others killing the infected reaching to bite them, I was caught off guard by one of my own. It was the foreman. I rose my pickaxe up in a horizontal manner to block it as I bashed the wooden handle against his throat, causing him to stumble back though it didn't seem to affect him. After he regained his balance, he made another attempt to charge at me. This time I was prepared and swung my pickaxe in an over the head swing until a disturbing crack was audible as my pick went clean through the top of his head. His body fell limp onto it's knees and lifeless as his head was impaled on the tip of my pickaxe which I quickly wobbled back and forth to let the body drop. Despite our best efforts, we had lost a few men to the escape. Though with the few dozen of us left, we were fortunate enough to find a military roadblock with several tents, some of the wooden gunracks still stacked with Western and Eastern assault rifles. I had no idea how to use such weapons, so I allowed the other miners to grab them and instead searched one of the fallen CDF soldiers. Pulling out a handgun from his side holster. We decided that we would return back to the mines, dispose of the bodies and make it our home. We had plenty of building materials and tools to build up reinforced walls that we knew would hold back these infected. Now we had assault rifles to hold back any bandits or troublemakers that came our way as well. With our new home established fully, we were running at complete capacity. It was just us in these mountains and so the towns at the base of the mountains as well were completely abandoned. It was perfect to go scavenging or hunting, we had stocked our shelves with enough food to at least last us six months. During one of our scavenging runs, I had set off towards one of the abandoned warehouses (or at the time I thought WAS abandoned) but turned out to be nothing more than a mistake. I once more had my guard lowered due to repetition and being used to the desertion of the towns. I was taken at gunpoint by other survivors, russians. I knew almost immediately that they were not Chernarussians due to their ugly fucking red star berets and patches. I spat in one of their faces and fought with another, screaming for my bratři's aid. Though I was quickly hit in the back of the head and rendered unconscious. If I told you another hit to the head was what woke me up, would you believe me? I was beaten consistently over and over again. They didn't even want information, they just enjoyed my pain and suffering. I held that rage, and held my tongue as I merely focused on memorizing their faces. When they were done with me, they threw me into the middle of town and left me to die. Though what they forgot was that I am a chernarussian, I will not die from a little beating. We suffer but we do not die, there is a difference. My struggle to even see which direction I was walking due to how swollen my eyes were was the biggest challenge, though my ears were still working. I shouted for my bratři again, in hopes that they might still be around. I reached my right hand into my jacket and pulled out my bowie knife, holding my hands out in front of me to guide myself before I suddenly heard footsteps coming to my right. I heard one of the fellow mine workers call out my name before rushing to my rescue, his arm wrapping under my shoulder as he aided me getting back to the mines. When I returned, I was set on the ground and guarded first and foremost as one of the miners began to tend to my wounds. He dabbed lightly at my face with a damp cloth to clean both fresh and dry blood. The other miners were furious about what had happened and demanded some form of response for what the russians had done. I was in agreement with them but was told to stay as I was in no condition to fight, and they were right. Despite how badly I wanted to return and gut every single last one of them, I couldn't even see five feet in front of me due to my swollen eyes. Though my bratři assured me that they would take care of this issue. I described to them the location of the warehouse which quite a few of us had been familiar with as we had been in that area scavenging before. It didn't take more than a few hours before they returned with the red star patches from what I can only imagine the dead russians. They dropped the patches at my feet and saluted me. Telling me that I displayed bravery and strength that none of them had seen before. Thus requesting I be their leader. I accepted. It was only a few weeks before I had decided that we would go by a group name to remind other survivors when they cross our path. If they are lucky enough to survive their encounters. I realized after the russians that I could not make another risk like that again, I would never allow any outsider to step on us. Thus, to mark claim to our new born family and gang, I created a symbol that we'd all wear with pride. We were no longer just miners. We were The Black Veins. We had been now roughly a year into this infection, if not longer. I must admit that we lost count and haven't used a calender to keep track. Though I had made a conscious decision to split the group up so we could take more territory, even it out and create outposts. Perhaps recruit SOME worthy members that we might have seen fit, though I find it unlikely. We traveled towards South Zegoria to determine what life was like further East. I took only eight men with me, more than enough to travel these lands. We took assault rifles and other spare weaponry that we had laying around at the mines, we could only imagine that the russians near us weren't the only ones in Chernarus after this outbreak. A man and woman with two children approached us on our ventures east, we hadn't even traveled a few hours before encountering them up in the burnt mountains. I greeted them with a smile before suddenly making an unfortunate discovery. The father was notably russian, he greeted us with his pig latin. I paused and my men immediately took action, as I gave them a look of confirmation. Child or not, parents or not. I would not let these russians repopulate or breed on our soil, not after what they did to me. My men knew this without me having to explain it to them. I took a few steps back and just stared at the situation before me, my men quick to throw the children down, the parents as well. The parents were pinned on their stomachs as they struggled, wiggling and screaming out in pleads. My ears had shut off to their begging and I felt no remorse as I watched my men butcher their children with pickaxes and knives. Blood splattered in all directions as they swung, causing it to splatter along my face, I quickly pulled out a scarf from my jacket pocket and wrapped it around my neck and face to prevent any from going into my nose or mouth. I watched as the parents completely fell limp to the struggles, giving up on everything when they watched their children's corpses turned to piles of butchered meat. I decided to give them a swift death, nodding to my men as I told them to just slit their throats and be done with it as we had a lot of land to cover. I do not show mercy to my enemies, to strangers or to traitors. If you are not part of the Black Veins, you are not safe. We will kill you or torture you, as this is the only way to assure dominance over others. How else will they know that we are not a group of survivors that can be tormented? We are no longer naive nor ignorant. We are survivors and we will do what we must. It feels nice to finally be among new land. I believe this will be our new home, we will need to radio back to the others at the mines to inform them to send more men over to assist. We have only been here a few hours and have already scouted quite a few cities, spotting life among South Zegoria. Other survivors, it seems. I am curious to see what this new land will provide for us, though I pity those we encounter in our path. I overheard quite a bit of Americký chatter, which just reminds me of the Mine Supervisor. I hate Americký. We will not go down gently, this is our land, our home and we will shed their blood to protect our own. Pro Černé Žíly - For The Black Veins.
  11. Name: Jared "Six" Miller Age: 28 Birthplace: Nevada, United States Group affiliation: Unknown "War does not determine who is right, Only who is left." - Bertrand Russell Mosul, Iraq. - 5 Years Before Takistan Name: Lieutenant Jared "Six" Miller Unit: 2-3 MAR USMC Unit Identification Code: M94430 "Hang in there, Hendricks!" Jared kicked open a rotten wooden door to what appeared to be an abandoned household. His handgun was raised in his right hand while Hendricks had his right arm hooked around Jared's left shoulder. Quickly rushing over towards the wooden table, he sets Hendricks down, sliding his handgun into it's holster before reaching over to tear off the wounded soldier's tactical vest. There was a large gunshot wound in his right side which Jared wasted no time in placing his hands on to apply pressure, attempting to stop the bleeding. "Jared...It's okay..." Hendricks said as his right hand came up to grab Jared's left forearm, his thumb brushing along the man's skin before gently dropping his hand, leaving a bloody hand print on Jared's uniform. The man's eyes began to dwell upwards, rolling into the back of his head before he finally let out a soft final breathe. "Hendricks! Stay with me!" Jared kept his hands on Hendricks's wound as he stared into the man's eyes. He was in denial but he knew there was no point in attempting to save him, he was already gone. Jared's jaw somewhat dropped. He retracted his hands, bringing his right hand up around Hendricks's collar, fetching his dog tags before yanking them off. He held them in his hand for a moment, staring at them. Hendricks R. D. O Neg USMC M M94430 "I'd seen death before, from afar. But killing the enemy through the scope of a rifle is one thing, it's a whole different story when you have to watch someone die in your arms." Cincinnati, Ohio - 3 Years Before Takistan "When all your rely on one person for all your happiness, you have all your eggs in one basket and the world is filled with wolves and wolves love to eat eggs." Jared's right hand shook uncontrollably in shock as it hovered over the doorknob to his house. He closed his eyes and it felt like all his time serving was literally being re-lived in seconds; death, destruction, change, gunshots. All of it was just flashing through his mind before his eyes opened up again. He was wearing a white t-shirt and his standard uniform pants with his black leather combat boots, his pants were tucked into. A duffle bag over his left shoulder with all his things in it. He finally made a move and turned the doorknob to open the door, pushing it open. He took four steps inside and dropped his duffle bag to the floor, looking around. He saw his wedding portrait of him and his wife. They both wore white smiles and seemed rather happy together, even he gave a meek smile at the sight of her in the picture but an even bigger smile was awaiting her in person. He looked around some more before his eyes fell to the side bench at the front door where the shoes were left. There was a pair of unfamiliar shoes there, men's sneakers. His heart dropped, his fists clenched and he made his way over to their bedroom. "Miranda!?" There was no answer when he called for her as he practically broke into a jog, kicking the bedroom door open. There she was in bed, with another man. The amount of anger and rage that went through him as he walked over, yanked the bed sheets off to reveal both their naked bodies. The man in the bed slipping on his boxers as he made an attempt to flee but Jared grabbed him by the throat and pinned him up against the wall. "Jared stop!" Miranda came up from behind him and started slamming her fists into his back. Jared finally bashed the man's head against the wall he was pinned to, before letting him drop. The man started coughing uncontrollably as he held his throat. Now Jared was about to unleash on Miranda as he shoved her back. "How long have you been doing this to me!? Is it because I was gone for so long!? Why not file for a divorce!?" With each question came a stronger shove backwards, Miranda couldn't answer but she was in tears and her face was beat red. Then came the final shove before she fell backwards, banging the back of her head on the corner of the bedframe, then down to the ground. Unresponsive. Jared's own face was red, a vein piercing across the left side of his neck as he stared down at Miranda. He found it odd she wasn't moving and merely dropped to his right knee. "Miranda?" He asked, he seemed somewhat concerned and alarmed as his hands grabbed her shoulders to lift her up into his arms. The man behind him seemed somewhat startled and shocked, he was very quietly trying to make his way out but Jared's right hand slipped to it's holster and he drew his handgun pointing it towards the man's center mass. "GET THE FUCK BACK AGAINST THAT WALL, I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU." He said trying to fight back the tears as his hand came over to Miranda's cheek, brushing it softly with his thumb before moving stray strands of hair out of her face. She was dead, there was no breathing that could be heard and her pulse wasn't present. Jared laid her back down before slowly standing up with the gun in his right hand, walking over to the man who sat against the wall patiently but in reality was absolutely scared senseless. Jared pointed the gun towards the man's face and didn't even second think before pulling the trigger. The bullet pierced through his eye, painting the wall behind him in crimson. Jared put safely removed the magazine and pulled the slider back with his left hand, cocking the chamber twice, turned the safety on and dropped the handgun on the floor. He made his way back over to Miranda, dropping to both knees this time, holding her in his arms. He was in shock but eventually the reality of it all kicked in and he began to cry and cry. He pressed his forehead against hers and his chest began to cave as he heaved heavily, attempting to regain his composure but he couldn't. Police sirens could be heard roaring outside the house and since the front door was never closed two sets of footsteps could be heard walking in. "CPD! Anyone here!?" An officer shouted out before making her way into the bedroom, her gun already drawn as she aimed it at Jared who slowly set Miranda back down and placed his hands on his head. "I killed them both..." he said with some moderate tears running down his eyes. The female officer froze a moment as she seemed in shock by the state of the room before quickly placing both his hands behind his back and pinned him to the floor, putting handcuffs on him, his face turned to the side as it stared into Miranda's eyes. He was pulled back up and brought over towards the cop cruiser outside, being placed in the back. "We've got a double homicide at 1137 Juniper Garden Crescent, any available units respond.." The officer spoke on her radio and got plenty of different chatter back but at this point Jared's hearing was blurred as he just thought about what had just happened. Cincinnati Court - 2 Years Before Takistan "Mister Miller for the murder of Devin Walsh, how do you plead?" The judge asked in front of the courtroom as Jared stood up with handcuffs around his wrists. "Guilty, Your Honor." He said staring into the judge's eyes. The man merely nodded and looked down at his papers before speaking again. "And for the murder of your wife Miranda Miller, how do you plead?" The judge asked letting his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose as his pen was in hand. "Guilty, Your Honor." Jared spoke again before sitting back down, staring at his feet. "Right then, for the murder of Devin Walsh, this court hereby sentences you to 25 years with no available request to parole. For the murder of your wife, Miranda Miller. this court hereby sentences you to an additional 25 years limited to an 8 year serving time before parole. If you understand these terms, you..." The Judges voice faded out as Jared stared down at his wrists. Taking a slow deep breathe before nodding in acknowledgement. Madison Correctional Institute - Transfer Day The loud sound of a cell door buzzing was heard from Jared's cell as he was awoken from his nap, jumping forward slightly and flailing his limbs as he turned to sit upright in his bunk. His hands came up to his face and he began to rub his features to try and wake himself from his deeper slumber before standing up and slowly making his way towards his cell door where a guard approached him. "Miller, you got a visitor." "If it's not my mother or sister, then send them back home." "I think you might want to talk with them." the guard spoke in a suggestive tone before leaning towards him to speak in a softer voice. "If you want out of this place, they're offering you one at a cost." He said before clicking his tongue and patting Jared on the shoulder. Jared was admittedly skeptical about the guards words but followed through and decided to follow him to Visitation. The room was entirely empty aside from a woman in a blazer, sunglasses clipped into her dress shirt. She was accompanied by two men in black suits as well, seemed almost like FBI level professionalism. Jared furrowed his brow and took a seat opposite the woman as he looked around the room at the cameras before looking back towards her. "I heard you're here to get me out?" "Not quite. I can offer you a reduced sentence Mister Miller, although it will come at a large cost." The woman said as she slid her right hand into her blazer, producing a small folder along with a pack of cigarettes. "Want one? You may need it, before you look through the contents." she said as she stuck one between her own lips and nodded towards the folder. Jared looked up at her skeptically but accepted, his right hand came up to pluck it between his fingers as he stuck it before his lips, dipping his head forward as she lit the end for him before lighting her own. He then picked up the folder and began to flip through it, although various lines of the dossier were blacked out. "Let's wind the clocks back 5 years, Mosul, Iraq. You served under Captain Arthur Ames, is that correct?" Jared gave a few subtle nods as he shakily took a drag of his cigarette while still scanning through the contents of the folder. "Well Captain Ames, has personally requested you by name to help him on this operation in Takistan. We've informed him that you are currently a prisoner of the State but that we could arrange for you to be deployed if you accept our deal. This mission is important and if Captain Ames is requesting you by name, then you must show promise of some kind, though I will tell you right now. You will be wearing an ankle monitor for the entire duration of this Operation to ensure you don't attempt to flea and become a fugitive. Upon your return, you will only have to serve eight more years. Compared to the long forty-three years that you have left, rotting in this place." She took a long drag from her cigarette and leaned back in her chair before gesturing towards the folder. "All you have to do is say yes." Jared slowly looked up from the folder that had hidden his face for the duration of the conversation, he dropped the folder on the table and nodded a few times. Putting the cigarette out onto the metal table. "Yes." "I want to remind you that this operation is off the books, hence the civilian clothing. We're here to gather information on what's been going on between the Nationalist Party of Chernarus and the IST. We're not here to interfere whatsoever, we clear?" "Yes, sir. Understood." Jared said nonchalantly as he looked down at the ankle monitor on his left leg. "Hey, don't worry about that thing. Give it a day and then you won't even realize it's there." The Captain said in a tone of encouragement. Jared didn't seem to take his words to mind as he continued to stare at it before looking out the window of their van, they began to pull into an alleyway and unpack their essentials. The Captain made his way to the back of the van and opened the doors before letting everyone out. "Stretch your legs, we got about a month to learn the terrain, the language and prepare. So in the meantime, get crackin'. I'll see you boys back here at eight sharp, we'll grab some grub then." Hearing those words made Jared feel at ease, he may have been in a third world country that was in the middle of a war, but he preferred it over being in a cell. He spent that entire month doing what was asked of him, but life seemed to have a funny way of throwing him off his course. He met a woman by the name of Katya, they spent a whole week together just learning about one another. For some reason, she was not afraid of Jared's past and was in fact fairly supportive of it, she was from Chernarus and explained to him that the things he did weren't good but that she understood the reasoning behind them. Luckily, the Operation was stationed by the coast, so Jared could take Katya to the beach without any issues and even got a chance to take pictures with her. He was happy for the first time in a very long time. Though as much as he hated it, time flew by like it was nothing and that month was quickly over. Now came the action of his operation and he had to cut all ties with Katya, but explained to her that they would see each other again some day. She didn't seem convinced and he knew his words didn't sound convincing but maybe it was for the best that he remained alone as he didn't want to carry the burden of being a murderer and having that thought gnaw in the back of her head for the rest of her life if she stayed with him. It had been a few months now since initial deployment and there had been a steady incline of riots on the street due to the Chernarussian and Russian feud, Jared and Captain Ames were on a tracking assignment and were in the middle of following an important asset in a crowded street. They had to practically shove people aside to get through and as they did, Jared heard a scream of agony come from behind him. He turned to look back at Captain Ames and saw a man biting at his right forearm. A crazed look in the man's eyes, though also a particular discoloration. Without even thinking, Jared drew his handgun and put a bullet in the man's temple which he soon realized was a mistake as the rest of the crowd dropped to the floor or began to run as panic ensued. "We need to get you back to the Van and get that patche-" before he could finish his sentence, they began to take fire by automatic rifles. Causing them to disperse into a nearby alley. It was even worse now as they had to run through various alleys and streets to avoid the gunfire coming from behind them and on the nearby balconies of the clay-built homes. Jared was helping the Captain throughout most of the way as there seemed to be significant symptoms showing. The Captain's skin grew paler by the minute and sweating profusely. They were lucky enough to get back to the van and Jared put him in the back before hopping into the driver's seat to make a speedy escape. Jared pulled the van over on the side of a dirt road, they were just on the outskirts of the coastal city. He hopped out of the driver seat, waving his right hand back and forth as dust and sand flew in the air due to the van driving through the road. He made his way towards the back doors. Pulling them open, he sighed softly before looking around then back to the contents of the van. "Alright, Arthur we're-What the fuck!" Captain Ames leaned up and his face was completely pale, his eyes were the same as the man's that had bit him earlier. He began to gargle crawl towards Jared who in return slammed the door shut and backed away from it. His heart was racing and his eyes wide as a deer in headlights, he had no idea what he had just witnessed. He decided that at this point, he was no longer safe. Although he had never seen it before, he knew this was some kind of virus or disease and whatever it was, the Captain had it. His first decision was to try and get a hold of Command on his radio but to no avail. It was as if the entire country had shut down in the span of a few hours. Jared made the decision to put down Ames as he knew there was no other way he could lure him out of the van and drive off, he needed to deal with the situation at hand. He grabbed his tactical shotgun from off the floor and slid back the pump with his right hand before taking a deep breathe, cocking it back forward. His left hand now reaching out quickly to yank the door open before backing away from it. Watching the now infected Ames rush at him like a lion for it's prey. Jared pulled the trigger and blew off the Captain's head like a watermelon, his brain matter and blood splattered all across the dirt and the back of the van, some even going into the van itself. "Shit..." was all he could muster as he brought the back of his left hand up to his nose to try and compose himself while holding the midsection of the shotgun in his right hand, returning to the van. He tossed the shotgun into the passenger seat and just looked down at the steering wheel for what felt like hours but was more likely only a few minutes. His right hand lowered to the keys in the ignition and he stared up the van, driving forward to god-knows-where. Jared grunted softly as he climbed over a large steep hill, when he finally got to the top, it was just pure forest. He sighed softly and stared into the distance as he looked over to his dog Scout who stood next to him, his right hand lowering to pet the dog on the head gently. Scout was wearing what appeared to be a ballistic K-9 Harness with some small side pouches, clearly it could carry some weight. He smiled a bit as he overlooked the ridge, staring out into the distance, it was the city. Quite a bit had changed since the start, including the buildings which were now mostly covered in vines. "Scout! Get back here!" He said with a heavily panting tone as he sprinted to catch up to her. As they made their way inside the demolished city, there was something about the place that seemed all too eery. The infected still roamed but not as much of a horde as when this all first started. While they continued to walk, he heard Scout barking. She quickly ran off and of course, Jared being so attached to his canine companion, he ran after her. He sprinted four streets down before watching Scout bolt off into an alley where he quickly followed himself yet again only to come to a halt. Scout was growling as she got into an attack pose as her teeth began to show, Jared drew his .308 Hunting Rifle, there were four men dressed in various different mismatched clothing. They almost looked like homeless people from back in the day as they all turned around in sync, pointing their assault rifles at both Jared and Scout. Jared held his hands up, holding his rifle in his right hand as he tilted his head slightly before very slowly lowering onto his right knee to place the rifle on the ground. As he did, he heard another two people walk up behind him and sighed softly through his nostrils, closing his eyes as he felt a barrel press up to the back of his head. "You. Who is." A disgruntled sounding man huffed out, the way he spoke didn't sound right. He had a thick eastern accent. "I'm nobody, just passing through the city...I don't mean any trouble, my dog just found you guys..." He said as his eyes remained closed, he could feel his heart racing, was this it for Scout and him? Suddenly his knees buckled as he was struck in the back of the head and left unconscious. Jared woke up with the back of his head throbbing in pain, his eyes had troubles opening up as he saw the silhouette of a woman in front of him. She placed her hand on him and began to gently stroke his chest as her voice spoke to him in a calming tone. "You're okay...Just rest..." She said before placing her hand on his cheek and she began to brush her thumb along it softly. He went in and out of consciousness quite a few times before blacking out completely. He woke up again to the sound of someone shouting in a foreign language, it was distant and since he was still in a state of fogginess from waking up, it was sort of background noise to him. He felt a different sensation under him, it was a mattress and his eyes opened slowly, analyzing the room he was in. It appeared to be an old medical tent with a bunch of hospital equipment in it, he was hooked up to an IV bag which he quickly ripped out of his arm, looking around as he climbed off the hospital bed. He almost fell to his knees but recovered quickly as he leaned onto a nearby table, making his way outside, he had to lift the tarp like flap door and outside he was. The sunlight burning his eyes as he lifted his right hand up to block the light shining into his face, squinting as he could clearly hear the voice now. "Dobrý den, You must be G.I Joe, ano?" the man asked in a playful tone. "G.I Joe? What? What'd you mean by that?" "Scouts tell me they found military documents on you. So G.I Joe is new nickname." the man patted Jared's chest with the back of his left hand. "Oh, um..Right. Listen, I need to head East, I heard there's an airstrip there that has a functional plane. They're offering rides back to America? My home? Far from here--" "Ano, ano. I may not speak good english, but I understand it, no need to speak to me like idiot, bratr, okay? Yes, I can arrange convoy to bring you to the boarder but no further, we do not venture into South Zegoria, it is dangerous place. We do not trust, too many foreigners." the man said with an almost distasteful tone. "Right, well I'm just trying to go home, so I appreciate this gesture." he said with a nod as he offered his hand to the Chernarussian man, the handshake was returned with a firm grip before releasing his hand. Jared casually slid his hands into his jacket pockets as he began to walk around the small camp to search for Scout when he happened to notice three kids playing with her, smiling softly as he approached them. An older woman sat in a chair knitting, she seemed to be overlooking the children as they played with the dog by the campfire. She offered Jared a small but invitational smile which he felt inclined to accept. "I see Scout has made some new friends here." he said as he approached and knelt down next to the old woman. Though noted she didn't answer him, most likely because she couldn't speak english which made the conversation just that much awkward. Though the woman did point the to crate behind her which just by a quick glance, Jared noticed his rifle and backpack sitting on the crate. He was quick to stand up and grab his gear when another woman approached him, the same one from earlier that had taken care of him. "Are you leaving so soon?" she asked as she stood there, folding her arms across her chest. "Yes, I need to get home as soon as possible to contact my government." he said with a purse of his lips "I understand..." the woman said in an almost defeated tone. "You guys can keep the dog as well, she's travelled a long ways with me, had her since almost the start of this infection. She's smart and she knows how to hunt, so maybe your scouting party can use her well." he said with a brief smile before walking past the woman, shouldering his rifle by the strap. He made his way up towards the exit of the camp where 4 men were gathered by an off-roader of sorts. One of them was working on the hood and the three others seemed to be conversing but quickly stopped when Jared got in earshot. "Ahoj, we leave in five minutes, get in back of car." One of the men said, the smell of his morning cigarette still pungent in his breathe. Jared didn't rebuttal and just opened the car door before settling inside, he closed the door as soon as he was in and rested his head against the window. Soon he drifted off to sleep. Jared was awoken very suddenly by the car rattling and bumping, his head smacking rather hard against the window causing him to wince in pain and instinctively bring his left hand up to his forehead. Before he could even ask what was going on, the door on his side opened and he was pulled out forcefully and thrown onto the muddy floor. When he glanced up, he was in a forest of sorts and there appeared to be snow. It must've been up in the mountains as there was a certain breeze but all those observations were quickly stopped when he was held at knife point by one of the men that was in the car with him. He stood up slowly and rose his hands up, rocking his jaw back and forth in a sarcastic manner. "Right...Take it Easy..." It seemed now matter what, Jared was constantly finding himself in life threatening situations, even before the infection had started. This just proved to be another as he carefully lowered his gun and reached to slip on his jacket, trying to display to the chernarussian men that he was not going to be a threat. Though as he did so, he began to look around and put on a certain front, hoping they wouldn't read through it as he spoke. "Listen, I didn't give you guys the whole truth about me...I'm actually a spy. Right now I have probably thirty soldiers locked in on our location--" "Bullshit." One of the men cut him off. Though Jared called back on his bluff by lifting his pant leg to reveal his ankle monitor, hoping those didn't exist in the country. "That thing on my ankle is a tracker, to let them know where I am. The reason I needed this ride was to escape them, but they have trucks too, so I have been trying to get ahead of them, I suggest you run before they gun you down. They need me alive but you guys, pfft. Collateral damage." he said nonchalantly trying to double down on the bluff. Which by the looks of it, was creating doubt in their minds as they looked at each other, giving Jared a chance to catch the one with the knife off-guard as he swiped it from his hand and put the man into a hostage situation by holding the blade up to his throat from behind. "Alright, now listen. I want you to run directly south of here. I know none of you got guns and mine's still on the floor and if I see any of you try to go for it. I'll slit his throat, so if you all want him to live, you'll listen to me." he spoke in an authoritative tone and it didn't even take a second thought for them to run downhill in a full sprint as if their lives depended on it. Meanwhile the man he held with the knife to his throat was thrown to the grown, Jared quickly going to grab his rifle as he pointed it at him. "Tie yourself up with your belt." he said as he slid the knife into his back pocket, glancing into the car window to check if the keys were still in the ignition but unfortunately they weren't. The man he had hostage was quick to unbuckle his belt and tie it around his wrists in a sloppy knot but enough to keep him restrained. Jared then looked down at the man again with a grin and couldn't help but chuckle. "Looks like your friends abandoned you." "Ano, for now, until they come back and I gut you like pig--" "How do you figure?" Jared said as he cut him off. "What?" "I said 'How do you figure?' as in, what makes you think that's going to happen?" He slid his rifle onto his back as he steered down at the man in a smug manner. "Because you haven't killed me." the man spoke as he struggled with his restraints. "Oh, I'm gonna shoot you, I'm just waitin' for them to be far enough so I can get a headstart when they hear the gunshot." Jared rose both his eyebrows as he said this and then slid his rifle off his back, aiming down the iron sight and pulling the trigger without even a single second of hesitation. The loud crack of a gunshot echoed through the dead winter forest as birds began to fly out of their nests out of fear. Jared held up his rifle, pointing it in the sky as he stared down at the dead chernarussian before taking his leave, sliding it onto his back and breaking into a sprint. He slid his left hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a compass which pointed East. To South Zegoria.
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