CupAndCough
Sought Hope Here, Became Blind To It
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Location:
Jersey Streets. Driving Military HumVee
Tags: Rui
Mentions:
Destination: Police station.
Companions:
Darius
Velska
[div class=magical]
「 S T R 」
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「 D E X 」
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「 C O N 」
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「 I N T 」
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「 W I L L 」
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「 A G L」
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「 C H R 」
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[/div][/div][div class=title]SALVADORE GRIGORI[/div][div class=text]
"...Bravo. Charlie. Delta. Echo. Foxtrot. Golf. Hotel. Ind--", The call signs echoed through the metal shell that encapsulated three, the murmurs reverberated in the relative silence. White noise for a bleek future. A military grade chasis, built to take small arms fire with relative ease. It was a good deal they had gotten from the 'disgruntled' enclave that cast them out not but a few days ago. They could have open-fired, and Grigori may not have lived to have plowed through streets of destroyed New Jersey with such ample supplies and accoutrements. Of course this was no gift onto Grigori and the kids by the leaders of that enclave, it was a gift of loyalty and respect due to the following he had amassed. With fervor and clamour the groups nestled within that Air Force base flocked to his words, to have the stokes of retribution burn with undeniable unity. His word, his movement, could work--he only needed time.
"--ia. Juliet. Kill.". Grigori grumbled as the snubbing of a tongue caught his ear and ire. Darius stayed silent, burning holes in the driver seat. Among the ruined husks of human civilization, a lone armored military jeep halted. Its destination? A police station,which bore a bounty to scavenge. Supplies to make the insurmountable liveable. As the car stopped the two passengers jostled about. A young man no older than 16, eyes filled with passion and arrogance. The other, a pale girl, held onto military emergency rations--Velska, who's stoic and ethereal nature settled between the age of 14-15 years of age. Her near-apathy for all things spoke a forgotten history within Grigori's life. Darius's burning will was zenith. A true human will, unwilling to be snuffed out so readily, but unforgiving devils.
"You stopped.", Darius huffed, "are you seriously going to make me recite the entire call sign list 100 times?", Grigori said nothing. The silence was deafening, the message was clear. Darius clicked his tongue, only to flinch in the greatest of fears as the leather gloves of Grigori attire wringed tightly around the frame of the steering wheel. Darius calmed and turned his head away.
"Kilo. Lima...". Message received. As Darius's voice trailed off from Grigori's ear, replaced by the sounds of tire on craggy asphalt, he heard Velska's faint and hushed voices counting food rations.
"двадцать два, папа Григорий", she pulled herself to the passenger seat. The military garb she wore ill-fitted her, the pouches jingling with survival tools as she moved. She looked tentatively towards the only father figure she could have known, eagerly awaiting acknowledgement. Her russian was simple--but it was a start, it filled him with some relief that she has been learning her mother tongue, English maybe lingua franca, but the need to have his truth spread to all did not halt at single spoken tongue. She would be slaughtered meat in battle, but she took to Grigori's speech giving rather well. Her candor and meditation was owed respect. If perhaps not for her he would not have left unscathed.
"Now read the map, give me an estimated time of arrival"his voice grumbled. Velska tilted her head, unsure of why he sought ETA from a map when location data say before him in the robust combat resistant console. She pulled her head towards the deck, but before she could parrot the computer a large hand obfuscated the screen. Slamming down like electric bolts born of sky.
"I asked you. Not the machine."Grigori's face did not face hers as he scolded her. She would consider it a mercy, but she pressed on, "It can tell us the information right there, why not use it? It is resource. Utilize Resources, you said that.". Grigori looked at the destroyed world, he had thoughts of the responsibility of fatherhood. Of how he seemed to not reach them on the simplest of tasks.. Much to his regret he looked toward the specter of his father amd sought council...
"And what of this machine? When it passes, will it give you the answers you could not find? You wil have left its stead with nothing, no lesson learned. No knowledge gained, only the realization that you had chosen convience over self improvement. The world before this one was compliant to their need to atrophy their minds and grow corpulant upon the backs of machines.", Velska and Darius looked toward the prophet. They'd often wonder what in life lead him to both despise what humanity was and so firmly believe their potential to cast off the God and Demons that yoked them. Velska started to well up, she understood--but his scolding may have beem a bit harsh.
"If I were to die tomorrow, would you weep for me or would you remind yourself of what I taught you? Learning to thrive, to empassion, to wage your life against horrors I could no longer save you from? Man begets child, child becomes Man. Your only salvation is to forget childish things and learn to survive as a human." Grigori decided to calm his voice, the concept of surviving wasn't foreign to them--but self improvement? It seems he still has much to teach coddled children.
"I-I am sorr--"
"No apologies--I need a map read", Grigori interjected. "The police station can allow for many possibilities, before rats pile at the gates."
"Ye-Yes.", she recovered from her lapse of emotions, Velska soon charted the course. "Under 3 hours, 2 hours 45 minutes? No. Definitely.". Her resolve to live up to both his edicts and sermons. It filled her hope, even if it did seem harsh to hold onto against the hellfire of burning corpses and violated carrion. She cannot be helpless, she will not.
Grigori lifted his hand off the console screen. Shutting it down. "Then we will be there in 2 hours 45 minutes." He confirmed. A sense of warmth emanating from his hand as he placed it upon her head...The drive will not be much longer..
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Location:
Jersey Streets. Driving Military HumVee
Tags: Rui
Mentions:
Destination: Police station.
Companions:
Darius
Velska
[div class=magical]
STAT SCREEN
「 S T R 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 D E X 」
◈◈◈◈◈
「 C O N 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 I N T 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 W I L L 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
「 A G L」
◈◈◈◈
「 C H R 」
◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈
[/div][/div][div class=title]SALVADORE GRIGORI[/div][div class=text]
"...Bravo. Charlie. Delta. Echo. Foxtrot. Golf. Hotel. Ind--", The call signs echoed through the metal shell that encapsulated three, the murmurs reverberated in the relative silence. White noise for a bleek future. A military grade chasis, built to take small arms fire with relative ease. It was a good deal they had gotten from the 'disgruntled' enclave that cast them out not but a few days ago. They could have open-fired, and Grigori may not have lived to have plowed through streets of destroyed New Jersey with such ample supplies and accoutrements. Of course this was no gift onto Grigori and the kids by the leaders of that enclave, it was a gift of loyalty and respect due to the following he had amassed. With fervor and clamour the groups nestled within that Air Force base flocked to his words, to have the stokes of retribution burn with undeniable unity. His word, his movement, could work--he only needed time.
"--ia. Juliet. Kill.". Grigori grumbled as the snubbing of a tongue caught his ear and ire. Darius stayed silent, burning holes in the driver seat. Among the ruined husks of human civilization, a lone armored military jeep halted. Its destination? A police station,which bore a bounty to scavenge. Supplies to make the insurmountable liveable. As the car stopped the two passengers jostled about. A young man no older than 16, eyes filled with passion and arrogance. The other, a pale girl, held onto military emergency rations--Velska, who's stoic and ethereal nature settled between the age of 14-15 years of age. Her near-apathy for all things spoke a forgotten history within Grigori's life. Darius's burning will was zenith. A true human will, unwilling to be snuffed out so readily, but unforgiving devils.
"You stopped.", Darius huffed, "are you seriously going to make me recite the entire call sign list 100 times?", Grigori said nothing. The silence was deafening, the message was clear. Darius clicked his tongue, only to flinch in the greatest of fears as the leather gloves of Grigori attire wringed tightly around the frame of the steering wheel. Darius calmed and turned his head away.
"Kilo. Lima...". Message received. As Darius's voice trailed off from Grigori's ear, replaced by the sounds of tire on craggy asphalt, he heard Velska's faint and hushed voices counting food rations.
"двадцать два, папа Григорий", she pulled herself to the passenger seat. The military garb she wore ill-fitted her, the pouches jingling with survival tools as she moved. She looked tentatively towards the only father figure she could have known, eagerly awaiting acknowledgement. Her russian was simple--but it was a start, it filled him with some relief that she has been learning her mother tongue, English maybe lingua franca, but the need to have his truth spread to all did not halt at single spoken tongue. She would be slaughtered meat in battle, but she took to Grigori's speech giving rather well. Her candor and meditation was owed respect. If perhaps not for her he would not have left unscathed.
"Now read the map, give me an estimated time of arrival"his voice grumbled. Velska tilted her head, unsure of why he sought ETA from a map when location data say before him in the robust combat resistant console. She pulled her head towards the deck, but before she could parrot the computer a large hand obfuscated the screen. Slamming down like electric bolts born of sky.
"I asked you. Not the machine."Grigori's face did not face hers as he scolded her. She would consider it a mercy, but she pressed on, "It can tell us the information right there, why not use it? It is resource. Utilize Resources, you said that.". Grigori looked at the destroyed world, he had thoughts of the responsibility of fatherhood. Of how he seemed to not reach them on the simplest of tasks.. Much to his regret he looked toward the specter of his father amd sought council...
"And what of this machine? When it passes, will it give you the answers you could not find? You wil have left its stead with nothing, no lesson learned. No knowledge gained, only the realization that you had chosen convience over self improvement. The world before this one was compliant to their need to atrophy their minds and grow corpulant upon the backs of machines.", Velska and Darius looked toward the prophet. They'd often wonder what in life lead him to both despise what humanity was and so firmly believe their potential to cast off the God and Demons that yoked them. Velska started to well up, she understood--but his scolding may have beem a bit harsh.
"If I were to die tomorrow, would you weep for me or would you remind yourself of what I taught you? Learning to thrive, to empassion, to wage your life against horrors I could no longer save you from? Man begets child, child becomes Man. Your only salvation is to forget childish things and learn to survive as a human." Grigori decided to calm his voice, the concept of surviving wasn't foreign to them--but self improvement? It seems he still has much to teach coddled children.
"I-I am sorr--"
"No apologies--I need a map read", Grigori interjected. "The police station can allow for many possibilities, before rats pile at the gates."
"Ye-Yes.", she recovered from her lapse of emotions, Velska soon charted the course. "Under 3 hours, 2 hours 45 minutes? No. Definitely.". Her resolve to live up to both his edicts and sermons. It filled her hope, even if it did seem harsh to hold onto against the hellfire of burning corpses and violated carrion. She cannot be helpless, she will not.
Grigori lifted his hand off the console screen. Shutting it down. "Then we will be there in 2 hours 45 minutes." He confirmed. A sense of warmth emanating from his hand as he placed it upon her head...The drive will not be much longer..
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