TRL
Radio Bob Approved
- Joined
- Mar 16, 2022
- Messages
- 133
- Thread Author
- #1
The footprints lead screaming, scorching the asphalt,
As I pound the floor, running to an angel of buckshot,
A savior amongst the machine and man…
And when I feel it, when I see her,
When I feel the burning, the heat in my face,
O’ lord, I want it.
That familiar sensation leaded by love,
In itself an ill guided blade,
Missing it's mark, hitting my veins,
And pouring myself out onto the asphalt
Where she watches, and judges my soul.
November 10th, 1970. In the slums of the capital city of the Georgian SSR, a child was born. The father wasn’t present- he was toiling away in the factories, not being able to witness the birth of his own child. His mother heaved, and so it was: Kirill was brought into the world, kicking and screaming..
Growing up, it was apparent that Kirill was a child surrounded by turbulence: His father was either working or drunk, and while he wasn’t abusive towards Kirill, having a father who was barely present in his life made the young boy resent his papa. Kirill’s mother was not much either: She was a party girl past her prime, and in order to rekindle that lost flame of her early 20s she found herself going to outings and clubs that a mother had no business being in: There were many times in which she brought home men while his father worked double-shifts. By the age of 8, Kirill had become all but used to this fractured life- aware of better things, yet unable to reach them. However, with his 8th birthday came an opportunity: Education.
Strangely enough, both of his parents seemed to put an emphasis on his education. They didn’t ever stop indulging in their vices, but they cared just enough to get him extra school supplies and even bought a few books off of a neighbor, helping spur on young Kirill’s progress as a student. And Kirill took to the opportunity like a fish took to water. He delved into his studies ferociously, whether it from a love of learning or desperation to stay out of his parents reach for as long as possible, he stayed late after school and took the earliest bus there, reading on the way. His teachers thought of him fondly, and while the favoritism helped him reach new heights, it would always be a point of contention between him and his fellow classmates.
Fast forward to 1986, and Kirill has begun to take on his rebellious stride. The Soviet Union wasn’t looking good. A war with Afghanistan entered it’s 7th year, two general secretaries came and went within the span of a few years, and now a self-proclaimed reformer, Gorbachev, was taking the reins. The entire nation was tingling with pangs of reform, of change, of evolution from the order that had caused economic stagnation and decay. Kirill however was just trying to stick it to his parents, both of whom fiercely advocated for Communism above all else. He fell in with a group of social-democrats, a rising movement within the intellectual spheres of the nation. While Georgia was on the periphery for all the shakers and movers of the political world, there were a number of rising social clubs and unsanctioned movements that intoxicated the youths. Kirill spent most of his hours away from home then, his presence never noted by his family. It was here he fell in love with a woman, a fiery lady by the name of Vivana. She was a firebrand revolutionary, calling for the direct action of the Georgian people against its state: A bold move, and one that had her harassed, arrested, and fined by police at every turn. But she was a rebel, a warrior, and Kirill was to be frank, mostly an intellectual nerd. He eventually split away from the woman (both for her fierce political ideas and his own ambitions to pursue a higher education) though her touch left a mark on the man that couldn’t be erased. He left Tbilisi for Rostov-On-Don, where he’d been granted permission to study mechanical engineering. Away from everything he had once known, he sunk ever further into his work, and for the first time in his life? Took to drinking on those lonely nights. And lord, there were many of those…
The Soviet Union ended up collapsing just as when he was wrapping up his education, and Kirill watched on with a strange sort of wonder and awe as the entire country was erupting into colorful protests, movements, and in some instances: violent activism. It only further kindled that spark which was lit by his first love, and the fans were flamed by his second: Arianne. She was a German studying abroad as well, and being the odd ones out they general stuck together through thick and thin. Of course this started out as a friendship, though time does change how one feels about things. They got married in 1995, taking their sweet time before Kirill finally popped the question. And under the rule of a free Russian Republic, they started their lives together. Kirill stopped drinking then, swearing off of it entirely as part of his wedding vows. They lived happily together- Kirill worked in the emerging field of robotics, while Arianne served the people as a political representative.
It was strange. He awoke to the sound of pattering on the roof of his home. He figured it just to be some odd thing- perhaps a few eagles making their home on his shingles. But when he yawned and pulled the curtains of his bedroom window, he awoke to see chaos. Buildings in flames. Horrors, monsters of an unknown origin were descending from the heavens and wreaking havoc upon the world. He turned on the TV, and it only showed broadcasts of alien invaders. He wasn’t safe here. His wife wasn’t either. And so in a hurry he grabbed his documents, a change of clothes, and together they fled to Moscow, where the line was being held by the combined might of the post-soviet war machine.
They made it to the gates of Russia, and were ushered in under the watchful eye of armed guards. The journey was treacherous, and they saw much death and destruction in their wake, but they had made it. They became refugees, existing within the city as impoverished denizens, unable to leave the city due to the apocalyptic events occurring outside of the city limits. They still stuck together through thick and thin: Kirill made money on the side repairing generators, while his wife became a medic, helping the sick when she could. By 2003, the world had pretty much ended, but the bastions of civilization held hope that in the coming years, they might be able to rebuild from the devastating attack on their civilization by an unknown evil…
Initially, they thought it was a second wave, but it proved to be so much more than that. New alien war-machines spewed beams of dark energy, obliterating swaths of land the size of small countries. Mobile factories spewed forth flying biomechanical aliens, which engaged overhead with MiG fighters and anti-air batteries. Moscow fell on the 5th hour, an achievement considering the war between humanity and the Combine only lasted for seven. And once more they became refugees, unwilling citizens now thoroughly defeated by the Universal Union.
In the initial days, the Combine began to implement their plans for humanity. People were relocated, shoved into alien dropships and shuttled off far and wide, creating a diaspora unseen in humanity till that point. Kirill watched as they took his wife, with him being beaten back, unable to prevent the event from occuring. Knowing that he may very well suffer a similar fate, Kirill opted to fade into the wilderness, narrowly escaping the clutches of the Combine with a few like-minded men and women, vowing that one day he may see his beloved Arianne once more. The days passed, morphing into weeks and months as he and his group stayed on the move, hunting alien life for food and living the life of nomads, hoping to find some organized resistance to these occupiers. And they did in the form of ESIC- a contingency plan led by the Chinese and Indians of all people. Figuring that there’s nothing left where he came from, Kirill joined up with ESIC, and was deployed into the newly formed City 45 to resupply and help out the local fighters there.
This was a different type of revolution. While Kirill was no stranger to the finer aspects of political dialogue, actively being a warrior in a warzone was something he was ill-equipped to do. While at first he tried to shoot only those he knew were collaborators of the Combine’s regime, he became desensitized to the war, and began to just indiscriminately slaughter anyone who wasn’t actively attempting to rise up against the occupiers. His intellect helped further the efforts of ESIC, with his knowledge in mechanical engineering allowing him to create a number of new weapons and field-devices that disabled Combine technology, and gave ESIC that edge necessary to fully destroy City 45. When the nukes fell down on 45, Kirill didn’t find accomplishment though: Only hollow. He looked upon the crater of a city, and asked himself: “What if Arianne was in there?” He nearly choked on the thought, and realized that this path only led to destruction. He abandoned ESIC then, fleeing with a forged CID and his equipment. He headed west.
He journeyed far. Past the Xen-ridden jungles of India, through the deadlands of the Mid-East. He crawled through the canals of City 50, and even survived the treacherous journey through the infamous “Cog in The Machine”. But by the time he made it to Milan, he was just about done. Europe was empty, and the looting and years of decay made supplies almost nonexistent. He was paper thin then, and ready to collapse. The last thing he heard was the screech of a tire. The Combine had got to him only in his death throes, ironic.
But it wasn’t the Combine who found him, but one of the only groups capable of stopping them in the modern era: Nachtigallen. Widely considered to be pacifists and only rarely carry out efforts against the Union, it was a complete 180 from his war in India, blowing up buildings regardless of the civilian casualties present. After an extensive period of rest, a complete interrogation, and even a few other tests Kirill can’t quite remember, he was finally vetted to enter the ranks of the largest resistance network known on the continent. And his mission was simple.
Get to City 24. Set the spark. Await further instructions.
ADMIRED (+++) FRIEND (++) POSITIVE (+) NEUTRAL (~) NEGATIVE (-) DISLIKED(--) SHITLIST (---)
Andre “Bugsy” Ortega (+++) - Where did you go, friend? The revolution is coming- have you not spread the news?
‘ Sniffy ‘ (+++) - You and I are similar. Keep the cards close to our chest, not entirely trusting of anyone, and damn ruthless when the body needs to hit the floor. I feel terrible... You could be one of the finest minds of your generation, should you have been born in a different time, a different place. But here you are in the here and now: You don't need to be saved, but there's an alternate route to the one you take. So take it.
Sophia Voronov (+++) - My peach.
Leona Blazkova (+++) - My plum.
‘ Bolt ‘ (++) - At first, I thought you nothing more than those abject centrists, holding nothing more than a farce for the naïve and foolish. But instead I found a man who changed my own views, gave me perspective I hadn't ever thought of prior. In all my years, it was a Finn who changed my mind. You could become a diplomat someday!
‘ Timmy ‘ (++) - You have potential for greatness, but you don’t understand the complexities of this world. The horrors it may hold for you. Are you ready to fight for the future, or will you simply rely upon the past to drive your ambitions?
' Mike' (++) - Well, that was a major fuck-up. Regardless, you're there for me. You always have been. We've conquered much together, and I do believe we'll conquer more. To hell with the Xenian scourge which plagues your mind- I shall banish it from memory.
' Radiance ' (++) - You're young, child. You might be a Vortigaunt, but the follies of youth seem to be universal. Do not let that hate consume you- let it cool, harden into a plan of action. I do think of you fondly, friend. If there is no place for you, I will be waiting in the wings.
' Violet ' (++) - Where to begin with him. He's cunning, he's intelligent, just as much as me. He puts his nose to the pavement and brings up leads to shit I would've never been able to find without him. Indispensable. But perhaps he's too much like me: Covered up in layers upon layers of deceit, white lies to make the pain a bit easier to bear. I understand, Violet. I will not pry.
' Bottlehead ' (+) - Surprisingly cordial and social for a man of your station. You knew what it was like long ago, but what disturbs me still is the reason as to you falling in with those people: Was it the glory, the food, the promise of freedom? How can someone like you... It confuses me. I will peel apart the layers of your psyche soon. I will understand. Before I make my judgement.
' Alex ' (+) - You know, you puzzle me. In some ways you still act like a kid, but in others I see a warrior. But I don't know which is which. What did you begin with, Mason? What does it all mean?
' Vadima ' (+) - Oh, where to start with you... Brimming with a will to change the world, but not understanding the true nature of this war. You were birthed from the machine. The ghettos and poverty and bubbling sensation at the back of your throat when you wish to scream but cannot. You care fiercely for your friends and decimate your enemies. Don't fall in with the people you idolize. If there's anyone who can tell you it isn't worth it, it'd be me. You'll look back upon these years with regret. Fight the right enemy, back the right men. You deserve to be absolved of the guilt. Please.
' Teller of Truths ' (+) - One day, there will be a time when allies are no longer required. Let us then instead be friends, no? I enjoy your company as I believe you do mine. Our minds compliment each other well.
[X] Johnathan "Rook" Hyde (+) - You shall be remembered by those you left behind. We never did go fishing. A shame.
Karl Rodrich (~) - You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, but you are too often buried in the pursuit of things to understand the greater scope of our goal here. Let us not suffer the same fate of the Apostles.
'Wildcard' (~) - Lets see how you play out. You're in the proving grounds now, lets make sure you got the right stuff for it.
‘ Kill Moves ‘ (-) - A mercenary who fails to complete their job is not a very good mercenary, now is he?
[X] Winston Halloway (--) - Disavowed. You died from having your throat slit while visiting the slums. Your body was never found, nobody came looking for you after what you did. Further inquiries are to be met with incredulousness.
'Lucia' (--) - So that's who you are. We shall see how events unfold.
Carter Bradley (---) - At least we can agree on one thing, Mister Bradley. Death to traitors.
Mallory Bloke (---) - A puppet had its strings snapped. Did you enjoy the freedom during free-fall, Mallory? I sure hope you did. All the plutocrats, trying to mimic Icarus with their papers and pencils. The true masters are the only ones who'll have their myths. Not you.
' Idris ' (---) - Blue always did look good on you.
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