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Look at me and marvel at... I'll think of it, give me a moment.

Anyway, adding shit

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Russian and Belarusian (native speaker)
English and a Quebecois/Parisien mongrel French as others
doing my best to learn other interdasting ones

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Alright, sad to go but if it had to be done so be it. Best of luck and everything
Much like Victorine, Horacio was glad to have left the stuffy city. Nasty buggers, the people there. He expected to find better souls rurally, although of course there was the issue of the Saint who could prove to not be quite so saintly but he did not let that spoil his time. On the trip to Sarton the Confessors remained quiet, not having anything to remark and deciding to not waste his breath or time on mindless chit-chat when this was the ideal time for quiet introspection and freshening of the lungs. Emperor knew what his body had gone through in all the industrial dystopias and cramped vessel quarters he spent most of his life in. But he wasn't ungrateful, no, for without hardship one could not know respite, without suffering one could not know joy.

But it seemed there was not a consensus on this. Lisbeth and Alexa seemed to buzz on some nonsense, nonsense that Horacio most certainly did not approve of. A bushy eyebrow was raised and an undignified mustache furrowed. He silently came from behind the two of them, about to give the chastising of their lifetimes but alas, it would not be. He grunted in slight annoyance as it seemed that some smoke had distracted the group, until the full gravity of the situation dawned upon him. "Bloody hell...." He muttered, raising his shotgun. It really wasn't something good in combat, but it was something useful for morale and general appearances that the Confessor kept the first shell of his shotgun unchambered. It thus meant it wasn't wasted when he pumped the weapon meaningfully, and pointed towards the village with his power-maul.

"See the perfidy of the enemy!" he bellowed, making sure that the men that accompanied the Ecclessiarchy's representatives heard his cries even as they left to encircle the place as ordered. "A village serene is burned by them, a place of innocent men and women working devoutly is razed to the ground. See their lies when they claim they fight for the common man, see the so truth of their claims to being warriors in the name of just society. They are the very perpetuators of the same villainy they may claim to fight! The enemy will kill all and provide no reward save inflicting more suffering. Those we fell today will learn this lesson, but far, far too late! They did not listen when a man as myself spake to them Holy words, and so you see the wisdom in hearing all that men of the faith say. But a single missed lesson will degrade you to the degenerates that we slay today, but a single impure thought unrepented will bring a man to such lows that he will have no escape save the Emperor's peace!"

Horacio paused, both for breath and to examine what he had just roared for accuracy. Satisfied for now, he continued. "For even proximity to such villainy entices one to it, as degeneracy begets degeneracy! Depravity births depravity! The cycle must break and the breaking of the cycle begins with each man and woman present. Steel your hearts my Brothers, let Holy Zeal guide your hand my Sisters! Fear not the bullets of the impure, cast aside their blades for they are naught but another test for the completion of all will feel their blessed reward! I say, who among us will be found wanting for vengeance upon the heretic? Who will be found with a clean blade? None, for it is a holy united front we present, the skill of and arms of any individual of them naught before the united zeal of us all. Let them know fear, let them tremble and coil as retribution comes for them, let this be a lesson to all who stand before the will of the Emperor! Emperor, guide our hands."

The Confessor originally wanted to end with a "charge!", or a "forwards!", but this wasn't a Frateris Militia and having everyone rush mindlessly at the foe wasn't what the Sisters did... or well, sometimes it wasn't what they did. Thus, he simply made sure to make a firebrand sermon of this event and do his best to make blood boil for battle before leaving the tactical nitty gritty to Victorine. All he needed was a direction to shoot.
"Fucking moon rune writing ass pricks." The Ranger muttered, closing his laptop. He had been mulling over what happened with the Delta Green case and it got him in a hankering for some zombie games. Unfortunately at this time of night while he was waiting for his shift. Ten minutes. All he had to do was wait in peace for ten minutes, and not let the fact he had to deal with Korean hackers in Left 4 Dead. At the same time, he had to find stimulus. Breathe Laurence, you're better than them. Laurie put his boots on the table, cracking open some dip to chew as he thought about... well, life. No, that was boring as shit. He stood up restlessly pacing about the room, knowing ten minutes was just a fucking awful time. The man took a quick gander through his social media and finding nothing interesting closed that as well. "Hello?" he called out, wondering if he was alone at the Ranger Station.

Silence, save for the mop of the deaf Janitor Rob. He was a nice fellow, and Laurie liked him but he wasn't a great conversationalist even after one got used to talking to the lip-reader. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck." he exclaimed, spinning in his chair. Seconds turned to minutes but it wasn't nearly fast enough that they did so.

Ding-ding. A text. Who the fuck was up now? He opened his phone, and was notified that working group Umbra was active. At this time of night? You kidding? Then it struck him, out in these swamps and down in this basement he cellular was spotty, so of course he only got it now. He rubbed his temple, running upstairs. He was about to text Donnelly back, but his alarm played announcing it was time to go to his shift. He cursed once more, texting his boss. "Suits callin me cant come call keith or kevin that glow in dark prick shit again" before sending "omw" to Donnelly. West Virginia again, fuck's sake.

He grabbed all his shit, drove home to grab a few more bags and then went straight North.

The ride was like last time, liberating and relaxing, but not nearly as much as last time. It seemed he'd have to stop at a gas station again, and he didn't want to run into the leather clad fucks again. He skipped the one he went to last time, going for the one two blocks away. But... no luck. Or perhaps much of it? He couldn't quite tell right away, because he recognized one of the biker dudes and it seemed he was alone.

Laurie sure as hell had the drop on him. He could slide in from behind, do some kung-fu shit leave the guy with bones sticking out his flesh. He sure as hell deserved it. Knuckles turned white as he gripped the handles of his bike with force to crack bones between his fingers. The Ranger exhaled heavily, before driving on. He wasn't as low as those dog eating fucks online, and he wasn't as low as this urban trailer park trash. He'd find another gas station, no problem.

Laurie arrived at the address, proud of himself in his zen state and reached for the door. His arrival would have been announced by the one man ozone burning engine of his bike, and from the cars here it was clear he wasn't the first. He took a breath, before turning the knob and putting on a working smile.
Back on the open read, yeah boy! The Park Ranger was giddy as ever as he left the building, having given the doctor his phone number. He hoisted the Confederate flag onto his bike and gave it a short salute before hopping on and revving the Engine like every single asshole who owned a Ferrari. A wooping announced that he was leaving as he hit the open road.

Free. Now he was really free. Gone from all that bullshit of secrecy and doing a job he wasn't trained for before realizing he'd have to keep on doing a job he wasn't trained for. Well, at least he'd be a badass modern day van helsing or some shit, he really liked the sound of that. "Bum-bum, bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum-bum-bum...." he muttered, going along with the tune of his song. "Fuck." Laurie stated, noticing he was quite low on gas. He could have sworn he had filled up before he had come to the little headquarters but he supposed not.

He turned into a gas station, the place seeming familiar. But much had happened over the last two days and he wasn't quite going to dig into some faint ass memory to remember why this place was notable to him. A mistake, perhaps. He filled up his tank, and then went inside to pay for his gas. Laurie bought some gum and a monster energy in addition before realizing he had quite the hankering for taking a piss. He went over to the bathroom, not quite noticing the biker fellows that followed him in. He went to the urinal and unzipped, whistling on as he felt the relief wash over him. He nodded to the guy who took the urinal beside him, feeling something was wrong when both stalls suddenly were occupied as were the urinals on either side of him and a sink being used by some dude washing his hands. He finished, closing his zipper and moving to wash his hands.

Laurie was slick, but he realized too late he wasn't slick enough to dodge being picked up and having his face smashed into the mirror. Twice more he was used as a battering ram, his head making a crater in the shitty drywall. He turned his head to look at his assailant as he was held in the air, but between the poor range of motion he could get and all the dust in his eyes he couldn't make him out. To finish it off he was thrown into the urinal his ass barely saved from breaking by the squished urinal cake. He coughed, trying to spit out an insult at the dudes but they didn't care, walking off with their job apparently done.

He sat resting for a while, maybe an hour or so before at last limping out, ignoring the owner of the place as he asked Laurie if he was alright. Of course he fucking wasn't, but you asking wasn't going to make it better! The Ranger wondered why his bike was wet, looking up to see no rainclouds until the smell hit him. "Of-fucking-course." He muttered, sitting on his ride and driving off wearily.

This drive brought no joy, save the prospect he'd make it home.

He had gotten to his dad's place, making his way to the basement quietly so he could shower and change, putting some of his shit away before going to sleep in his bed. He usually lived in the Ranger station, but he didn't want to drive all the way after that shit. He woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon, all that miscellaneous spicy cajun shit poured on it in excess of what any person would deem tasteful emanating all the way down to his bed. "I fucking love you mom." He said, getting up and walking upstairs. "Smells delicious!" he remarked, to his mother, the woman smiling before she saw his face. She cried out some archaic curse before grabbing his face to look at, making note of every single wound. "Maman, maman, it's not so serious...." He tried, but this only made the woman call his father. He sighed, going over to the breakfast to save lest by virtue of inattention it burn. He sat down to eat, listening to the berating words of his parents. He finished off his meal, wiping his mouth and hands with a tissue before going to wash himself off, mother and father now waiting for his reply. Laurie dried his hands, before articulating a reply. "It's the job. New responsibilities, secret government things, if only I could tell you. There's suits, soldier-boys, all of them, it's so exciting!" he said, not actually elaborating on whether or not that excitement was positive or negative. "Love you, but I have a shift today!" he said, putting on his hat and then going outside back to his bike.

He drove to the Ranger station, clocking in and then going over to the swamps. It was good to be back, he even greeted his old friend bigfoot a couple of times! But life was back to how it should be, and while boredom did get him quite often it wasn't nearly as bad of an irritant to his condition as before. Perhaps the experience with Delta Green done him good, he wasn't now quite as interested in stimulating experience as before.

Laurie wondered if maybe this would go too far. He could deal with a fucking zombie, but he wondered what other shit them glow in the dark freaks would have him do. He shuddered at the thought every time he had it, thanking God for making him smart enough to not blab. Who knew what the fuck them cunts were doing with their fancy listening equipment.

The sound echoed across the Highway as Laurence Mathieu rode along. In about an hour the Louisiana boy would swerve off of the I-20W and head off to some nearby address that. The rev of the engine, the Confederate flag waving in the breeze (and the annoyed drivers nearby taking pictures), the Death Grips he was blasting over the Radio, and of course the dip in his mouth. Everything was so perfect together, he really enjoyed himself.

Many hours earlier.

"Au-revoir memes, au-revoir pepes!" Laurie called out, waving to his Grandparents as he headed to his motorcycle. They liked it when he spoke French to them, damned the fact he borrowed vocabulary and pronunciation from English or Spanish half the time. The parts that he got right often sounded really Parisian, which they further got annoyed by but ultimately it put a smile on their face. Laurie made absolute sure to visit them one more time before he went off on this business the suits wanted from him. Some shit all the way up in West Virginia. Damn good song came from there, he liked playing it on the long nights in the swamps or woods when it was rainy or something of the sort. Real homely that song, real homely indeed. What was he on about? Oh right, he had to get to West Virginia. Heh.

He hopped on his bike and gave his grandparents one more wave before igniting the engine. Oh, he really love that roar. It was some right primal shit, shit mountain lions and really pissed bobcats might give, shit that was like an audible shot of testosterone oh yes sirreee.

Laurie loved riding his bike, it wasn't like normal driving. You were really there, not detached from it. Sure a car with no hood still got you the breeze but you aren't really part of the experience like a motorbike. A motorbike was... well, it was like the horse of the modern day as opposed to cars and trucks, the carriages and wagons of the modern day. Sure a carriage and wagon is useful but there's something special about just riding a horse and Laurie knew that firsthand.

Nothing much changed as you rode a motorcycle but it really didn't rouse Laurie's ADHD. He was calm then and if he got bored he could switch things up. Google Maps said it was sixteen hours from home to where he had to be and that was a lot of time. But he didn't want to ride a plane he wanted to be free. He could go down scenic ways, or feel the full speed of his Harley beast on the I-20. He could thunder music, or he could listen to the Knee-koh-muh-kee-yun ethics. Laurie liked audiobooks, they changed up the monotony of shit. He liked music but sometimes he ran out of the types he liked, and so he'd have to listen to something else. He didn't agree with all this philosophy bullshit he was hearing but damn it was captivating, and it was as clever as his neck was red. Damn clever.

He got to make excuses for eating cheap shit and drinking soda instead of tea and stuff, a sort of treat he supposed, a treat for having to deal with all sort of bullshit he'd have to deal with. Knowing his luck they'd make him find some rare rhino that a poacher let loose by accident and it was distinguishable by an arrow up the ass he'd have to remove. Nonsensical sure, but nonsensical were his forte weren't it?

You know, come to think of it how did those damn suits know so much shit about? And all the shit they didn't know they asked all the right questions for it. Forgive me mama but I'll hurt a man I catch tryna screw with me. He kissed the rosary around his neck, knowing he didn't have to ask God for forgiveness. It is writ in scripture Cursed be he who stays his sword from blood, and Laurie damn well took to that. The Lord really were asking him to be the slickest badass in the East, North, South, West, East and... wait he already said East. Well he was a slick badass, that's all that mattered really. He looked to his "concealed" carry and gave it a few taps as he waited for a red light to turn green. Ain't gon' stay you from blood my lil precious.

He sped up to the motel he noticed and took a room, taking all his stuff up to the room, locking it with a chair up to protect the handle from a door kicking badass who was close to rivalling Laurie in raw testosterone. Of course, nobody could get to his level oh no, Laurie knew he was too much of a man for that. He played with his rubik's cube for a few minutes before promptly falling asleep not having bothered to undress. He woke up with a start, which he considered strange. Maybe that bigfoot feller was kidding with him again, he didn't know.

Strange, he put on an alarm didn't he? He looked at his phone and cursed in a way much less Christian than even the "shit" he was used to. He turned it off to let it charge faster, but forgot to turn it off just as he fell asleep. He ran to the shower to clean himself up before getting dressed and running right back to his bike. His phone had just turned on, but he didn't put in the password and by the time Google Maps opened so he knew where the hell to go and everything... nah. He road over to the bikers he saw clustered at the Drive-thru opposite the motel with a wave.

"Howdy boys, you know the way to the I-20?" he queried. He got a few looks from them, and realized perhaps it was a mistake to let himself be surrounded from almost every direction by strangers in a strange land. They said something cheesy that Laurie really didn't pay attention to, but he knew it summed up would be along the lines of "give us your shit." Well, it was his shit thank you very much and no yokels would get it.

He stepped off his motorbike to go through his wallet quickly thinking of a badass move. But he wasn't that badass because he got what the old movies called a knuckle sandwich. But he turned into it for a softer hit on the cheek before giving a knuckle massage of the nuts to the fellow that gave him the sandwich. He felt owed a little remuneration so he reached into the guy's pockets to grab what was in and hopped back on his bike. With a kick he rode off, one of the bikers pulling and thus unbuckling a strap of his backpack, but nothing real happened. With a smug smile Laurie unfolded his fist to look at his spoils of war and... dropped the used condom on the ground.

Still, he won! Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! he cried, turning his phone on. Popping in the address into maps he got funny results, but it didn't matter once he was in the area he got a good feel of any new land he was in.

Took him half an hour, but he got there. Folks were already there, apparently which was fine by him, it meant he wasn't nearly as late as he thought. "Howdy fellows!" He shouted, dismounting just as the flag on his motorbike fell without a breeze to hold it up. Not bothering to say any more, he headed inside.
Its in the first post

@Leidenschaft maybe fix up a discord for this kind of stuff?

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