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Parched on the snow with a knee upwards and an arm resting, Nyester Origen rested by a tree, letting the large trunk shield him from the wind. He had advised Dmitri Krepchenko from taking this route, and indeed, he thought himself correct in saying, “нет.” There was a bad feeling in the air. He could smell it clearly. It cut through the wind like a rotten egg. It caused him to become ever more so disenchanted with the shenanigans the Host was doing tonight, and Nyester decided to take watch, instead. The feeling in his gut was unsettling, and even the newcomer was warranting a foul stench to him. He understood she would be better by the morrow, washed from that filthy heresy she had not minded until the Host came about her.

“Ложитесь с собаками, и вы встанете с блохами,” he told himself, fanning a hand in front of his face. The wind was cutting, as well. He felt colder than he ought to feel. In more ways than one, he supposed. There was no use in being a legal man, but as an old wolf, he knew a thing or two, whether Dmitri acknowledge them or not was another discussion Nyester would argue tooth and bone until he was buried underneath the Holy Land. Honor and dignity relied on it, like truth against the foul lies. He might be hard, but he had something in his teeth that he knew was right, “Agios Yuri,” he mumbled to no one in particular.

To Nyester, this was war. It always was war. He had a hard time enjoying himself when all he could see were the places where the Host had blackness and cracks. There were holes where not just prayer was needed. He was no monastic and thought himself to be the only one who ever bothered to mend and fill those places with something useful and worthwhile. It stretched him thin many of times and frayed his spirits.

“You speak?” The gruffness of Iosef Moskvin’s voice was hushed and growled through the area. His large hand was held on his detachment, and the chin was tucked under, scanning the grounds with a mean penance. Nyster was never in his favor. There was something abominably negative about him. Iosef believed it to be the port man’s surname. “Any more, and we will be deaf to the outside,” he mused, letting his tongue curl inside the softness of his mouth, sucking on the dew that had developed in his warmed position. He was a tough man, and therefore, he worked well with Nyester.

“To foes?” Nyester shook his head, mumbling under his breath. Iosef was a fool. His jokes were rarely ever clever and never funny, but the man had power of his own. Like a rock, he was solid against the terrain. He was one of the few that Nyester knew to never get injured. Twitching his nose, his body arose and trotted forward, to escape the presence of his comrade momentarily, but as he took another step, the sound of his boot chunked into the icy snow sounded unnaturally different. A chill took the wind, and silence beckoned across the land. The foul smell still hung in the air, much more noticeably now, and the man turned. The crinkling in the cloth of his clothes could be heard by Iosef, who was no longer visible to Nyester. Neither Cossack dared make another sound. The snuff of heavy breaths could be heeded.


Banned for banning a cute dog.
The Fed Zone
11:30 am, Saturday
November 6th

The town was starting to look less like a B-movie and more like some high-production Michael Bay had produced -- at least, according to the commercials. The dialogue seemed cheesy, but the graphics and scenery were... making her feel a little nervous. She was still feeling courageous and bold, especially in the sanctity of her suit, complete with her (tacky) helmet. There was a lot of things she had scene during her time as an agent, but this was fairly huge. The mist was getting thicker the more she jogged through the streets, and her goggles were adjusted, again. Her lenses changed colors, scanning the various statistics, and information ran to compile the data. It was as if she was not even in the same world.

Seeing something that she thought was the tail of a tiger, she turned the street corner and jumped over a vine cracking through the sidewalk. Breaths panted from her, and the suit was feeling heavier, now as she balanced her vision through her headgear. This would make for a good story for Aubrey, she told her herself, considering whenever they would hangout next. Aubrey was always busy with her boyfriend, but maybe...

D's pace slowed to a job, and her body bent a little. Her mouth opened and let out a few exasperated sighs. Not having eaten breakfast was already making things difficult. Great... she thought. Breathing in as she straightened herself and looked around the streets, she untucked her goggles from her face and studied the scenery with her naked eyes. It was all murky and foggy. Her eyes moved around as a hand was placed on her hip. This was big, she repeated over in her mind. This was not the first haunted town she had visited. She had visited several, and they were usually false flags. In fact, most paranormal activity was false flags. but at least, this place is recognizable.

The tiger and the boy were no where in sight, and she felt a small shiver thinking about the two creatures she had been chasing. There was an eery feeling that she could sense. It was her very own paranormal gift, she decided. Her father had broken it down to human instinct and conditioning. If anything, it only proved her vocation and nothing more. Lookin' into it is only going to complicate things. He rarely ever said something about not looking into something, and D held that advice close to her and simply reminded herself that she was just "not a normie."

Her lips closed as she caught her breath and relaxed her breathing, "Where are you?" she whispered, hoping her question would be answered. Sometimes those little tricks worked. Her hand raised and pulled her goggles over her eyes, again. A small frown perked to the side of her face with inquiry, "Left. Right. Left. Right..." A moment of silence passed as she considered her options. Any of them could be wrong, and any of them could be right. Going to the hotel or finding a place for a snack was also an option. She decided on continuing forward.

Cupping her hands over her mouth she let out a small call, "Maddie?" it was a start to the next several minutes of the new level's first challenge.
I have only been in a coma one (1) time.

I have never climbed a tree.

I like climbing trees.
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