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    1. Mr_Wiki_96 11 yrs ago

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i am willing to start at any time. It's your choice Kyle. :)
Fat Boy Kyle said
Well that's the strangest and most brutal killing I've ever read on this site. Nevertheless, accepted :P


OH SHIT! I didn't see that! Away to change it.

And thanks for accepting me :).

By the way, my timezone is UK GMT or more specifically, Scotland.
Jannah said
For now though we can just continue dialogue between our two characters. Jonathan seems intrigued enough.


Quite indeed old chap. :{ I enjoy our character's conversations.

I find Stefan to be quite an engaging character. :)

NOTE: :{ = Like a sir emotion.
Jannah said
Well we need to wait for Azena for that since he's the host xD.


Cool, fair enough. :)
It looks like food is set on the table. :) Does this mean that everyone (or most) is now in the dining room for dinner and does this mean our host will reveal himself soon?

P.S. Sorry for double posting.
Jonathan listened politely to Stefan as he corrects him. He started to mention his family and that his father had died when Stefan was a boy. Jonathan could easily sympathize with him. He too knows the excruciating pain of losing a parent. He knew that he was lucky too lose his mother when he was an adult and not as a boy. When you lose a loved as a child it is harder to take in and it can cause prolonged effects one one's emotional stability and, in some cases, psychological ability. Even though Jonathan was a fully fledged adult that has aced the psyche evaluation at police academy and has also seen a cop-buddy or two killed in his precinct, he still can't handle his mother's death. She was innocent in everything. She has given her life and soul to her family and has never majorly sinned anyone without reason but she still got killed in a gang attack that she was oblivious of. She deserved a better death than that. She needed one that would have honored her effort to her loved ones but instead she was gunned down like a pig without dignity. His understanding of Stefan's loss made him nod at him in sympathy.

"I am sorry for your loss. I too know the feeling of losing a parent...I lost my mother a couple of years ago." He then takes a quick drink of whatever was in the cup in front of him. It was unfortunately not alcohol. He continues. "It's not easy handling the death of a parent, isn't it? Someone who took time to raise you, teach you right and wrong and tell you to stop chewing with your mouth full." He gave a small smile at the very end of his sentence but it disappeared as he continues. "Parents who took time to teach us these lessons deserve a long and healthy life. It's harder to handle their death when you know it isn't what they deserve and it becomes a fucking anvil on top of your head when you have to bury them. I have great condolences for you Stefan. Men should be burying their parents. Not boys."

He raises his glass of water towards Stefan and nods at him. It was a thankful nod. He hasn't emphasized something like that to anybody for a while now. He feels Stefan is a good man and he hopes he can trust him in future. "To parents." He then takes a drink of his water.

The room was then met when a barrage of waiters came through to the dining room from the kitchen with plates and bowls full of food. They led it on the table in front of everyone. It was quite a delicious sight. It was a mixture of meat, vegetables, fruit, fish, bakery, dairy etc. It was a very broad range of food that contains nearly everything to everyone's taste. Quite clever of the host thought Jonathan. The host would have been unsure of what everyone's preferences are when it comes to dinner, so he brought a wide variety for everyone to choose. This tells Jonathan that the host wants to comfort his guests and be prepared for them. It tells him that the job must be either so important or so difficult that he has the need to butter the guests up. Speaking of butter, he has noticed a large dish of ham and chicken pie was right in front of him with a savory looking butter melting on top of it. Jonathan licked his lips in minor excitement and took himself a slice of pie for his plate. Others seem to be sitting down as well. This may be the first time that everyone is in a room together on this island and this hopefully may prompt our mysterious host to reveal himself.
2 February, 1928

0932 hours

Hotel National, 5th floor- Moscow

A dazed vision is what blesses Oleg as he tries to awake from violent spat with death. He is met with a strong ringing sound that echoes through his mind like the church bells of St Petersburg. Trying to move became a near impossible challenge as his lower body was covered in a debris of broken floorboards and smashed glass. From looking around wearingly, he could tell that he had landed on the floor below after being sucker-punched by a Wildfire rocket launcher. He looked above and saw the chomped-off half of the 6th floor. The power of Chimeran weaponry was fiercely advanced. They, practically, were carrying the power of a tank within their mutated, demonic hands. This power along is able to make Frankenstein’s monster and the bogeyman look like a pair of small chipmunks.

His vision started syncing itself back into place and he started trying to push the rubble of his body. He started coughing quite brutally. His face was covered in sheet of dirt, dust, and sweat with hints of blood. The coughs were the cause of an intentional inhale of dust during his fall. He sat himself up and a few metres away was Nikolai. His comrade was lying against the wall and pierced into the ribcage of his body was a giant piece of the 6th floor. The man in front of him was bloody and violent. Blood flowed down his mouth like a water fall and the open visible bones were gruesomely attached with small bits of organs. It made him wheezy and pant at the grisly sight of his comrade’s death. He looked to his left. A massive opening had now appeared thanks to the explosion. Within the time of a split second, a hand instantly surfaced from the outside. Fear struck Oleg’s nerves like a harp. A couple of Chimera were climbing the hotel too finish him and his comrade off; the job was half done.

A Chimera popped it self over the broken wall, it’s roar struck black into the fear of men. Oleg ran into the direction behind him. Fearing for his life, he opened the door ran through to the other side. Small red balls of death flew past his head as he slams the door behind him. He started running in terror down the hall of the Hotel National’s 5th floor. His movement was clumsy and his body was filled with adrenaline as he starts knocking chairs and desks over in the hope of making some sort of small and weak barricade. He looked behind him to the corridor growing longer and trippy by the second. Fear was now in control. He didn’t have time to think or mourn over Nikolai. He had known him for a few years and was a good friend but he didn’t cry over him. Comrades were dying left, right and centre and it leaves no second for a man to weep over a lost life. It hadn’t even been a year and already Oleg was desensitized by this war. Normal life is now but a illusive speck that cannot be reached or clung too.

He then looked forward but right down the path was a Chimeran foot soldier standing in the hallway. It roared with villainous glee as the soft sound of it’s Bullseye charges up and produces a fateful, orange glow in the barrel of it’s gun.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

12 July, 1951

0215 hours

York base- Containment Cell

Oleg woke up with a startling howl as he instantly sits up from the crooked bed, panting and sweating heavily. He stunk of nightmarish flashbacks. For 23 years his brain has acted like a broken film projector that repeats memories in his head, night after night after night. It drives men insane but Oleg has endured the burden that is laid heavy on his head. He looks around the prison that he is being kept in. Oleg’s impressive streak has finally ended: he had been found by the military. His nationality made him a high class catch for any GI Joe or Jane that happens to notice his accent. Nobody knows what happened in Russia and there have been no human survivors recorded; that he knows of. He is gone be greeted by a welcome party of questions regarding his painful past. They’ll force him to relive memories of his comrades being either killed or taken by the Chimera. By the end of the carousal of catechizing, they’ll either release him, kill him or recruit him. Two of the options seemed quite favourable.

He looked down at the clothes he was wearing. It was normal ruined military trousers that he has worn for years now. The wear and tear was quite visible to the naked eye but a change of clothes is not a privilege that came available to Oleg but with recent events, he’s pretty sure that a change of clothes is a privilege available to few. His boots were still on him and his white shirt was still intact. The only thing missing was his jacket, weapons and supplies. A moment of discord struck his realization has he noticed that his journal was not with him. He jumped out of the bed with anger and fury raging through the Russian’s heart. That journal contained information of Russia and the Chimera. At the back of the book was the name of every single comrade he has seen slaughtered by the Chimera. There were pages and pages filled with Russian names. Each name holds a dark vision of the Chimera butchering them right in front of Oleg’s young eyes. That part was a personal connection for him, which he doesn’t want tainted by the filthy hands of the Americans and British. It is unlikely that the western dogs will handle something that deep with care.

He stands up from the bed and looks around. It was a very concealed and plain room. Plain, brick walls surround him with no windows except one. The window was tricked out to look like a mirror but Oleg knew that it was a viewing point into the room from, what most likely is, the hallway outside. This was a multipurpose containment room. It can be used as containment for Chimera, a prison for convicts or an interrogation room for people of interest. A bed, a sink and a toilet is all that is there to comfort Oleg as he stands in his brick-box cell. He walks up to the window and looks at his reflection in the mirror of deception. He can see how old he has become. Time has hit him quite hard. He was no longer the young, eager private that he was once. All he sees now is another person. A broken man now stood in front of him. His eyes are what caught his attention. They were red, slightly puffy and teary. He looks deep into him but he falls into a chasm of alienation and misery. He saw nothing of the man he once was. He slowly places his right hand on his face to touch the effect of the Chimera War. He face had small noticeable wrinkles and it was very rough. He couldn’t believe how long it has been and how far he has came but for what?

He then stopped touch his face and banged his fist on the glass window in rage of his realization. He kept banging on it harshly and screaming to top of his voice. He was always brought up to believe in a god but what deity would allow any man to go under this much torment and torture. While hitting the glass, he looked up and started yelling in Russian.

“Pochemu, pochemu, pochemu!” Which translates too: why,why,why.

He then stopped banging the glass and looked in front of him. The mirror/window was barely scratched by his anger. He sat back down at the bed and laid his head down in gloom, waiting for his inevitable meeting with whatever glorified grunt that runs this place.
I am quite interested in making a CS for this RP. One of the RPs I'm in is dead in the water so I need a replacement.

I'll get a CS up by the end of the weekend. :)
Heads up, I edited my previous post to make it night because my character is being transported (kidnapped, kind of) to York base and it would be annoying for the people there if I suddenly made it morning for them when it's actually nighttime.

EDIT: I'll be getting another post up today but I'll be a prisoner at York base because I'm Russian (maybe the only pure human Russian left) and I tried to run away from British military. Plus I have a journal that basically contains knowledge of the events of Russia and knowledge of the Chimera. This would intrigue someone to question me and it'll be how I get involved in Operation Morningstar because I'm not an American or British soldier. :)

EDIT 2: I cannot get a post set up tonight. I had to visit a relative and it took up my evening. My post is half done but I'll have to complete it and post it tomorrow.
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