Roleplay Part 4

Hearing Pyotr's startled voice I quickly put down my tin cup and grabbed my rifle. Aiming down the tunnel I slowly made my way to the cart. I climbed up the front, turning the mounted spot light towards the noise. I quickly turned to make sure Pyotr was ready then flicked on the spot light. the darkness vanished as light flooded the area revealing a faceless shadow, " halt! Who goes there! " I loudly demanded.


aaronpoitras = Dimitry (Dima). Boris = Andrey. Skaara = Benjamin. Darkbringer = darkbringer. Von Streff = Steven

Hope that helps Dahksinol

 

A weird cosyness had surrounded us at the campfire. These campfires does strange things to your mind, I thought. I never made it tell my story, as Dima went up to the cart and turned on the spotlight. He must had heard something, so I aimed from my sitting position down the tunnel. Yes, there was a man there. Keeping him in my sights I stood up and went over to the cart. I wanted to tell him to get his hands up, but that would ruin his idea of Dima being the boss. It was better to confirm people's pre-judgements than confuse them in a situation like this.

 

Crap the right post is on the second one... just don;t know ho to delete this.

 

I'll keep this in mind.

I raised my rifle and aimed it at the man on the ground. What was he doing there? Is he dead? Is he alive? Was he sneaking up on us? What could he be doing here... but then again, there was that... person we passed awhile ago... He must have seen the fire and tried to get to us.

 

Bathing in light as the spotlight from the cart got turned on and hit my eyes. I stood up with my face as red as a strawberryfield in July and raised my hands above my head and nervously shouted "D-d-don't shoot!"
Just my luck stepping on that rat I thought disgruntled. Blinded by the bright light I could not make out the men before me. But what I had seen from before they looked more than mercs than Reds or bandits. hopefully they wouldn't even know of the bounty on my head. Or, they would just kill me anyway and stove my lanky carcass in some dark recess of the tunnels. Shifting my weight anxiously i waited for what the men would do next.

 

I could not help it to smile when Pyotr called me 'Benji'. "I never did, although the teachings of the Buddhism is the one that attracts me the most", I answered Pyotr before Dimitri started telling his pre-war story. After that, he asked if anyone wanted some as he poured some tea. "Yes, please" I said as I took out the cup from my backpack and was poured some as well. I took a light sip of the shroomy tea before Pyotr, Darkbringer and Dimitri walked over to check on the stranger, leaving me, Steven and Andrey around the fireplace. The men could handle this on their own without my interferance, so I sat still and took another sip.

 

"What's your business stranger?" I asked with my rifle still aimed at him. "Speak slowly, and softly. Or I might accidentally riddle you with bullets." I grinned at the bluff. The Saiga wasn't an automatic rifle, it was a hunting rifle. I knew this had worked before, especially since no one is much familiar with these weapons in the metro.

 

I watched in silence. Even this short reprieve only delayed what I thought of as my inevitable death...

 

My eyes darted nervously between the men holding their rifles steadily aimed at my chest, I frowned under my cap at the old man's remark about his rifle. There seemed to be no fire selection switch on the handle. Didn't even look much as a military-style rifle. Yet I wasnt' very willing to call on the old man's bluff or I'd probably be made swiss cheese by his companions. I trembled with fear and I could swear they could hear my heart beating furiously thorugh my chest. I swallowed hard trying to get rid of the lump building up in my throat. I clenched my fist to stop them from shaking and blinked a few times to get rid of the tears starting to build up and tried not to sob.

"J-j-just a traveler, S-sir. I said frailly. I'm I'm on my way to pavelets-s-k-kaya to m-meet m-my uncle, he had a job for me he s-said. I w-wasn-nt trying t-tto s-sneak up on you. P-please don't kill me."The men contemplated me in silence as I stood there like an idiot shaking.

 

I turned my head to pyotr with a frustrated smile. I was trying stop myself from laughing at this travelers thin nerves, but I also felt a bit bad about myself scaring him half to death. None the less I still had to take the situation seriously. " he could be a Nazi spy stalking us " I shruged to him. Turning back to the travler I calmly said " unload your weapon and walk forward slowly 'traveler' ".

 

At the reply of the boy, I lowered my rifle and let Dima take care of the newcomer. I sat back down with the others, but fingered my Strechkin's trigger and grip with my left hand. If ever he tries anything, I won't be caught flatfooted.

 

I pulled out my knife and whetstone, sharpening the blade with short, sure strokes. The crackling of the fire, the scraping of the stone against the steel, the quiet talk, and the silent roar of the metro tunnels all blended together into a peaceful, reassuring harmony.

 

relieved that I wasn't going to die just yet, I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand, I did as the apparent leader of the group told me unloaded my -74su and put the mag in my pocket. "M-my name's S-s-sergei, B-by the W-way" I stuttered.

 

I turned to Baldy for a second and nodded. Obviously, he was as tired as I am. Running around the metro was a fast life, I guess. Even the kids know it. Well, then, I settle in and watch the newcomer, Sergei, closely. I was not in the mood to add the first notch to my Stechkin.

 

I thankfully accepted the cup of tea i was given and sat down with the men at the campfire. After being reassured they weren't going to kill me for now I relaxed a little and started telling about myself.

"I-i was raised in Tulskaya by my father, who worked as an engineer in the tunnels Back Before, A kind but solemn man who worked day and night to keep the station working, so he was rarely at home with me. The few night he came home before I was sleeping he always brought back broken gears and scrap for me to play with and fix, I got rather good fiddling with mechanical and electronic components, 12 years old I built a working flashlight from the scrap my father brought me. Since I spend most of my days at home I didn't play well with the other kids at sthe station and was mostly alone during the days fiddling with stuff or reading the books and manuals of our station. To ease the boredom of my childhood I mostly went to the station infirmary and watched the doctor work, an old man who always smiled no matter how bad things were ." I smiled faintly at the recollection of the old man."When I came of age ot help around the station I started working in the infirmary, instead of the other younglings who wanteed nothing more than to get guard duty and join the caravans, where I learned how to mend the body and cure most diseases.

But due to the fact that we already had a doctor at the station my father told me I would have to look for work somewhere else. So I picked up what little I owned and started traveling to the other stations in search for work until I arrived at Frunzenskaya. At first they were highly suspicious of me, me coming from Hansan and them being Reds. I was expecting to be thrownout but when I said I was a doctor they greeted me with open arms. You see, their leader had been out to the barricades on day and on his way back he just collapsed and started vomiting blood, sweating with high fever and festerign sores started to appear on his body. A grisly sight I can tell you. Noone knew what it was. I started to examine him and tried several medications to see if it got him better. Nothing did. For weeks I continued to work for a cure til one day the he just passed away. The Reds started accused me of posoining their "beloved" leader and would have executed me the same night if not a friend had warned me of their plans. I fled back to Tulskaya where I remained unti lI got a message from my uncle, Sascha about a job. that's pretty much my story up until now" I finished adn sipped my tea in silence.

 

I listened only bluntly to the Sergei's storytelling. My mind was on my own story. The memories of lost friends, staring into the eyes of the most frightening creatures to ever walk in the metro and my mother's death. When Sergei stopped telling explaining, I nodded towards him as an accept and sign of respect. I then started telling my own story:

"I did not think I ever made a proper introduction of myself," I said, taking a sip of the tea. "I was born in Denmark (But I remember nothing of that time ). My father had a succesful consulting engineer company, and my mother was an ergotherapist. I lived a happy life with my friends, and in the sparetime I trained to join the Huntsmen Corps. But since the socialists seized power, the taxes were so unbearable that we immigrated to Russia. We had only just moved in when the nukes fell" I stated, now looking focused into the fire. "After the incident, we lived in Tjetjakhovskaya, my dad working wíth the hydraulics of the station. He was an important man to the station, with strong political opinions. But he was never my idol: My focus was still on becoming an extraordinary soldier. I joined the caravans whenever possible, and I even sneaked up to surface once. It was so intense and andrenaline-filled, I could hardly believe. I guess where others saw danger, I saw a challenge, a way to prove myself. But then the nazis took over the station. My dad was very much against them, and even travelled to other stations and asked for help. But those skinheads would punish him, so they killed my mother. I was the one to find her dead. I was in such a brutal anger, the first thing I did when I left the tent was murdering the first nazi I spotted. I carved "REVENGE" in his face with my knife. But I had to leave, since I was now an outlaw."

I held a little break and looked around for signs of excitement. I continued: "I made it to Polis, where the Rangers immediately integrated me. I also did some mercenary jobs on the side, mostly anti-nazi. You see, I kill a nazi for fun. For money, I'll carve him up real nice. I also met Dima during one of these "odd jobs". We developed a good friendship.
I met this group defending Cursed. Vlad even gave me this" I said, giving Vlad an appreciative smile, then showed my M92. I sheathed it again. I unloaded it, then loaded it again. "And now I'm here" I said still carfully watching my pistol.