Started by Bagelz, 04-11-2009
0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.
: 08-11-2009 by Bagelz
Re: Keyes Yakobchokin
: 05-11-2009 by Bagelz
10:59 PM, October 21, 2012, (Standard Time)\ South-Western Yanov Area, approaching bandit camp, Chernobyl
"You know what to do kid, get in there, get the Eye, and get the hell out of there. The eye should be rather easy to spot, seeing as it originates in the burner field of anomalies, meaning you'll be able to easily spot it due to its glow and the light it gives off."
"Good luck, Lincoln, and eliminate any bandits that try to approach-"
Two bandits dropped as they slept, the nine by eighteen bullets silently piercing their heads as they slept by the gate of the camp, by the over-the-top modified Fort-12 pistol, with a suppressor attached.
Blood leaked from the bandits heads as he approached the gate, peering inside. There was a bandit guarding the chamber which the artifact lied, and all means must be taken to prevent the escape of this artifact. If this artifact would be lost, it would mean a heavy hit to Beard's business.
The guard begun to doze off, a bottle of vodka within his tight hand, mumbling and stumbling about, drunk out of his mind. Typical, for a bandit of this type.
Like most bandits of the Yanov area, they were peaceful people, but an image of that type was not to be taken lightly. Many of the bandits used this to their advantage, to trick stalkers and loners into believing they are truly what they seem, and robbing them blind-sided, dashing off with their goods and PDA locations, most of the time, killing the victims.
The men within this camp-...well, the two dead included, were suspected robbers and killers, stealing the Eye artifact from a group of stalkers north-west of Yanov, near the Zaton swamp area. The stalkers earned the artifact rightfully, and the bandits betrayed them, killing them, stealing the artifact for their own selfishness.
"Good luck, Keyes... Beard, out.", Beard replied into his head-set attached to his modified Stalker suit belonging to Keyes. As the Fort-12, this suit was includingly modified to death, by the local trader Cardan, on the boat Beard himself lived, in the Zaton area, with the other stalkers and honest bandits.
The guard, guzzling his vodka like an idiot, after twenty LONG, pain-staking, and boring minutes, finally fell over off the porch, onto the grass and dirt area blow him. Totally unconscious, and god forbid, not waking up any time soon, hopefully.
"A bandit guzzling vodka...Lovely...How....typical?", he replied to himself under his breath, his HUD within his armored-core suit eliminating the sleeping bandit from his view-screen, focusing its reticule on the door.
With the two dead fellas' dragged aside, he begun his snail-speed approach toward the door in front of him. Careful not to trip on anything, resulting in the immediate alert of the bandit-guide within, he continue his approach, avoiding every careful step displayed in his night-vision.
Dragging the drunkard aside as he reached the door directly in his view, he added a nice whack on the side of his head with the Fort-12, boosting the sleeping affect of the bandit.
Thirty seconds later, it was time. He holstered his weapon on his shoulder-holster, pulled a package of pills from the section he labeled "pills", and slipped out a package of Hercules pills.
Its main component is an artificially created steroid, chemically similar to testosterone. Used by stalkers on long journeys to increase their muscle fatigue threshold. Helps to significantly increase the amount of weight one can carry, and increase overall strength during a battle, to withstand severe bodily impact, and boost the threshold of pain.
The packaged read, "USE AT OWN RISK. ALLERGIC REACTION WILL RESULT IN IMMINENT DEATH. TOXIC TO THOSE EIGHTEEN AND UNDER."
The pill swallowed, with a lack of water, using his saliva to coax the pill down, already taking affect after a few mere seconds. Hercules was a strong drug, like Hercules himself, hence the name of the drugs reference.
He blinked twice, his vision now much more clear, and much more aware of his surroundings. The energy drinks lacked the strength of the pills, ten fold.
Minutes later, he proceeded to take a crack at the door. The door sliding open gently, making a agonizing creaking sound, causing his ears to hurts. The door continue to creak, before coming to a full stop outward.
The bandit, 'Sluchin', walkeda round the corner, a stiletto in his hand. He charged at Lincoln, out of his mind, and completely bent on killing the young man, and taking all the loot on him for his own selfish gain.
The bandit charged, lacking any real combat skill, obviously, judging by his stance and overall charging strike to open the battle.
Gritting his teeth, he watched the bandit, the hercules taking full affect.
"Would you take...a life"
Extending his right foot back, turning it sixty degrees to the left, raising his left foot forward, he drew his hips to the left, raising his left-leg, leaving it in mid-air.
The bandit charged at him, still holding the knife...
His leg charged as he swung it, as the bandit reached a perfect foot away, his boot landing straight in the chest of the bandit, causing him to fly back, wheezing. The Hercules added an extreme boost in his muscle strength. But of course, later on, the fatigue would certainly kick in.
"Do you know what you'll give..."
The bandit stood, staggering. He charged, swinging his fists madly at Lincoln.
He grabbed the bandits fist, lacking a knife, thankfully. Twisting his wrist in a bone-breaking motion, reaching the mans under-arm with his right hand, grabbing his arm, twisting it completely.
Bones could be heard breaking as he continue applying extreme force...
The bandit screamed in pain and agony, as he was sent flying back by a knee-jab to the chest.
"Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you..."
The bandit yelled out, "Youre a fuckin freak man, stop singin!"
He charged, limping, his left arm completely broken. Fortunately, since the bandit was left-handed, his skill with a knife was dropped even further than the terrible level it previously was.
He swung his fist madly, Keyes grabbing it, bringing it around his back, completely locked. The bandit gritted his teeth, spitting all over the floor.
Within a split second, the arm was twisted with his wrist, dislocating it completely. The bandit avoided the pain, focusing on trying to kill him so badly...
He threw the bandit into the stash of Vodka, bottles shattering, seeping into his wounds. The bandit grunted, tugging at his side...
As Keyes proceed to leave, he kept the hand on his holstered Fort-12, aware the bandit may well be armed.
The bandit drew his Makarov, Keyes suit amplifying the drawing sound...
He swung on the heel of his left foot, 180 degrees, drawing his silenced Fort-12...
He grinned under his mask, nodding his head gently upward.
"You know my name...."
The bullet screeched from the chamber, landing directly in the middle of the scumbags temple, causing blood to spurt all over the room.
The bandit fell, knees first, flat onto his face, blood pouring from the wound. As he plunged to the floor, the Makarov in his white-knuckled hand slid across the floor, etched with all forms of markings and modifications.
He grabbed it, tossing it out the window.
He proceed to the desk, grabbing the artifact within the glowing bag. It was quite a small artifact for what it was, a modified version of the Droplet, from being exposed to a burner anomaly. It glowed brilliantly as he opened the bag a crack, causing his eyes to adjust.
"It longs to kill you, and you're ready...to die..."
Sprinting from the small hut, away from it completely in under a minute. Keyes was a real runner, due to his training required for his job.
Casino Royale Opening (Best Audio)
Re: Keyes Yakobchokin
2:34 PM, November 3, 2012, (Standard Time)\ Within 60X50 'Steam' Anomaly Field, Northern Yanov area, Chernobyl
The young man pointed the Veles Mark-II detector toward the area, after avoiding numerous Steam and Burner anomalies; a task, that many would be unable to accomplish without the proper tools.
After a pain-staking ten minutes, he spotted it. The Flame artifact flew into the air, after dropping briefly to the ground, showing no further signs of action.
"I'llll take that.", he said to himself, as he kneeled over, grabbing the warm, yet cold-to-the-core artifact, holding it in his hands gently with the detector in the other, anomalies emitting heat and steam from him just a few meters away. Perhaps around four meters for sure. If he was to trip, or lose his balance on his knees, death would be the only thing he would feel, or a severe burn that would leave a scar for life.
As he navigated the anomaly field with his detector, and a map he formed over many hours of studying the field on his HUD, a bandit begun to approach him as he exited the field, relieved. The bandit showed no signs of hostility, as did many of the bandits off the Northern area's of Zaton and Yanov.
Like always, the wrist-mounted bolt taser was armed, and ready for firing into the nearest throat. Packing a whopping knock-down power, and a nerve-wrecking one million volts, lethal enough to kill an average man if left bolted for too long within the skin.
A bandit behind him begun to approach, this one packing what seemed to be a wooden plank. It became quite obvious to him that trouble was about to go down.
With the Flame still in his hand, snuggly held to his side like a child with a teddy bear, the HUD within his gas-mask begun to pin-point to the two as potential threats. Like most HUD devices of the Zone, they lacked the professionalism of ones used by the armies of the World, resulting in a lack of X-RAY, thermal vision, and heat-sinking.
The bandit holding the wooden plank approached, tapping it in his hands as he walked. The other stood back, ready to attack if deemed necessary...
The bandit spotted the artifact clutching to his side. He eyed it, like a wolf stalking a lamb in the fields in Kansas...
"Watcha' got there, kiddo?", the bandit asked.
"Kid?....", he replied in an American, New-Jersey accent. While everything spoken here is under the language of Ukrainian and a mix of Russian, it was easily noticeable, even with a different language spoken.
His moderately raspy voice replied, "Yes...-kid, watcha' got there?"
"None of your business...Now I'd advice you step away, please.", Keyes replied to the bandit, beginning to reach for a Fort-12 at his side.
The bandit drew the Fort-12 , toting in his hand, his knuckles beginning to turn white. It became obvious to Keyes that the bandit had the intention to either steal the artifact, or kill him trying.
That, was not going to happen....
He squinted his eyes under his mask, reaching his left hand towards the bandit.
"Now now, fellas...Come now, we can talk-"
"Now....", Keyes muttered under his breath, the HUD replying to his command.
With the blink of an eye, the double-bolts launched from the taser, whacking the bandit right in the chest. For Keyes sake, the bandit was only wearing a light-cloth vest, like most of their kind do.
The bandit blinked, and created a gagging noise, as if he was losing air, and being punched straight in the gut, typical for a reply to a taser of this power and magnitude.
The bandit dropped to the ground, unconscious. Within a split second, the bolts within his chest retracted, slipping back within the Tasers grappling, on a one minute recharge timer.
The other bandit approached him, charging with the wooden plank in his hand.
He grabbed the pistol, and instead of aiming for the raging mans face, he aimed for the foot.
Like all of Keyes kind, they were not bent on killing, but rendering the attacker defenseless, and instead of causing conflict, avoiding it, like all proper Artifactors should.
The bullet struck the foot of the man, entering right into the upper tendons and fibulars, causing him to drop and roll, heading straight for a burner anomaly.
Keyes was not a killer, for now....
As he tumbled, he grabbed the man by the torso, and used his quadriceps to stop the man from rolling straight into death.
"P-Please, please, don't kill me..." the bandit replied to him, in the typical raspy, grainy voice of a bandit, his voice harsh from drinking unnecessary amounts of vodka and drink.
"You know what I want..."
"M-Money, is it?", the bandit replied to him.
"No...I want you, to leave me, and my friends alone..... Do you understand me?"
The bandit nodded, and with a blink of an eye, the butt of the Fort-12 struck the man on the back of the neck, causing him to go unconscious, his eyes closing, dozing off.
As he dropped the two, dragging them away from the pit of anomalies, he left the wooden plank near the bandits, giving them an advantage in case mutants attacked...Well, kind of an advantage, most would never confront a pack of dogs with the plank of a boat with a few rusty nails in it.
As he begun to sprint from the scene, at about a good sixteen miles per hour, the artifact within his backpack could be felt glowing its wonderful heat and warmth. It glowed, giving off a slight hint of light as ran...
"Beard has gotta hear about this one..."
Just Cause 2
Re: Keyes Yakobchokin
Re: Keyes Yakobchokin
: 05-12-2009 by Bagelz
"God I hate 'des' fuckin' 'dings. God damned stupid ass journal entries. Ah well, its for deh' best I guess."
"Alright, well, over my period of about... I'd say around two and a half months, I've achieved one a many things a lot of des' stupid chumps dream of. I mean, god forbid, if anyone could do it, we'd all become petty artifact hunters, scavenging and rummaging trough the wastes of the land of Chernobyl, navigating through the worst dangerous anomalies know to man, looking for the hidden gold that is artifacts. But it's sad to say that many of these chumps, do not succeed, and fail miserably. I guess most of the time, I'm usually successful because of the amount of work I put into researching and teaching myself how to deal with these types of things, hence why the Military pays me to work for the ecologist's, but ah' well, I'll move on."
Perfect Dark Music - Ci Operative
"Journal entry twelve dash one dash zero. Access root log: twelve dash one dash zero. Open file, now."
"I've just received news that Lachance was killed in action. Also found out that reavers' have escaped areas of the Zone, and have infiltrated the areas around Ukraine and outer Ukraine. Not sure how the big boys are gonna deal with that, but uhh', I can already guarantee myself that it ain't gonna be pretty, especially now that a lieutenant of the freakin' Security Service is dead. There's gotta be fuckin' soldiers and warrants going all around in that shithole! Whatever killed him, was strong, and unmatched. Lachance was always on his guard... how could this happen?"
"No way, he cannot possibly be dead, it has to be a hoax... that's what I keep tellin' myself, but I know honestly that it's true. I mean, that's how we work, isn't it? We want to shut out the thoughts so badly... So, so badly, but we know the truth rattles in the back of our minds, we know we cannot run from it, and it grasps us with such a tight grip, and we just cant escape it... I keep telling myself he's not dead. Over and over and over, but I want to believe it's a hoax..."
"Whatever happened to Lachance, I'm not sure how that's gonna affect us. Although, some I can imagine that the country is a bit buzzed out right now, but surely the Army will take down the reavers' once and for good, hopefully. The reavers are nothing but garbage, and they need to be eradicated from the face of planet Earth. They've taken too many lives, and I've had to waste precious ammo taking them down as well. "I'll need to investigate into it more. If ole' Khaletskiy is dead, then we've got problems. He was boys back home's only solution and supply of information from this god forbidden dump... Who are we gonna find to take his place?"
"Although I will miss him dearly. He was a good friend, that's for sure..."
"Command: File: Save as DEF document: encrypt, and save to Desktop. Sure, it's a DEF file, but they're so easy to encrypt, surely half the people around this shithole don't know how to decrypt em'..."
"Desktop, open DEF editor, input stuff.DEF, run DEF editor, now. Open stuff.DEF with rich windows document program, font heading size twelve, Virdana font, please."
"Journal entry thirteen dash one dash zero. Entry title:... Nothing."
"Lachance...is...dead. I can't believe it, I really cannot believe it... I mean, I hardly knew the guy, yet we've worked together for a long time, even before he left the area back to Ukraine. I can't imagine how his wife is doing... man, this is awful, I'll have to inform the others of his dea- maybe not... maybe not. It might just be best to leave this info top-secret, and for our eyes only. Then again, an agent working for the fucks back in the U.S probably shouldn't even know about this, I can't stand to lie to people. But in a situation like this, I think lying is the best for all of us, especially his friends."
"In other news, although, I'm almost finished with this place. I managed to satisfy the boys back home with some smuggled artifacts, and some stolen air-maps, but that should be good enough. I almost got myself fuckin' killed trying to haggle with that Degywegy asshole, even though he continued to refuse me after I tried to bribe him with a good hundred thousand. So, like any smart man, I decided to steal em right off his front desk. Kinda sad, honestly, such important docs', and he just left them sitting RIGHT THERE on his desk, for prying, open eyes to just snatch them up and dash off with em'. What a chump, for your eyes only MY ASS, these babies are going straight to the boys back home. I'd love to get my hands on one of those new suits they got comin' out though, damn, but I ain't killin a freakin' army soldier for that shit, fuck that, my Beril baby will do good for now, it's done good enough for me!"
"Off topic, yes, I know, this is completely random, so I dunno why I'm goin' here, but I am. Perhaps it's because I'm so fuckin' bored and rolling in dough, that I've got nothing to do? Maybe I outta just go and steal some artifacts, instead of finding them, but then again, I'm not a thief...so."
"So from the time I've been here, these Russian's, Czech's, Slavian's, and Ukrainian's seem to really hate us Americano's. Everywhere I go, I got some tough-guy fuckin punk coming after my ass, trying to rob me of my shit. I mean what the hell is that? I'm minding my own business, and then I get some stupid vodka guzzling idiot running after me, attempting to kill me for a piece of compressed human matter and earth. And for what? A few thousand rubles? If only these tardo's knew these things sold ten times they do over in outer countries, unlike that Sidorovich fella'. But I like Sid's style, he's got class, real talent. His skill in haggling and mercantile abilities are unmatched from anything I've ever seen. Shit, he almost got me convinced to sell em', and that's a hard feat to pull off, seeing as my middle name is Money... No, uhh, actually, it really is. My middle name really is money, not kiddin'."
"Yep, I'm gonna rap this up, time to head out, got a client from Beard that wants some pissy little Flesh Eye and a puny Crystal artifact. Peace of cake, always is. But I probably shouldn't let me ego get to my head, like it always does, I mean after all, I am a worker for the Americans, I should probably stop boosting my morale above what my head can handle. Anywho, I'm out."
"Yo, Kelly, same as usual. Save stuff dot DEF as normal. Encrypt, save to desktop as DEF file, yaddy ya', you got the drill. I mean hell- wait....wait....wait."
"What the fuck was that? I've never seen that frequency before..."
"Lock that fre-...Oh my god.... What are we looking at, ten army soldiers? Fifteen? H-...Oh fuck, oh FUCKING SHIT, they're only a click away... Bring up navigational 3-D air-map, NOW, maybe we'll put some of the military junk to good use."
"Alright, good, time to get moving, these boys don't look like they wanna play nice. But what do they want me for?..."
*An image appears on his PDA, over-riding the map function, displaying a wanted poster.
"Keyes Lincoln Yakobchokin"
Age: 16.5-40: No specific: Unkown?
Height: 5'10 or 5'11
Eye detail: Green eyes, slight baggage
Beril Military suit: Heavily Modified "Be armed, suspect is extremely armored"
Traits: Sassy, Insulting, lacks care for others, American, East-Coast accent, artifact hunter
*Warranted on the charges of theft of top-secret documents of the Ukraine Security Service, and assisted assasination of Khaletskiy Lachance. Other charges include theft of Military data and items, such as artifacts, documents, weaponry, armor, dogtags, identification cards, and others. Suspected of attempted murder on multiple Ukraine Security Service agents, and occupants of the Urakine Army Ground Forces.*
*THIS IS A UKRAINE SECURITY CIVIL SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT. ANY INFORMATION OR SUSPECTED LOCATION OF SUSPECT IS TO BE FORWARDED TO ANY LAW ENFORCEMENT AGENCY OR MILITARY DISPLACEMENT UNIT WITHIN THE CHERNOBYL GROUNDS. ANY CITIZENS OF UKRAINE ARE TO REPORT INFORMATION AND SIGHTINGS OF SUSPECT TO LOCAL POLICE. MILITARY FORCES OF ZONE BOUNDARIES ARE TO HUNT SUSPECT DIRECTLY WITH KILL ON SIGHT MANEUVERS. SUSPECT IS ARMRED, AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.*
*REWARD WILL BE DISCLOSED UPON PROOF, AND APPROVAL OF SUSPECTS DEATH.*
Re: Keyes Yakobchokin
Christ he has a lot of artifacts.
Long read, good read.