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Gopher's Minions
Dave Syrinx

Survivor: SIBEЯIA

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This rather of a big announcement and I must really beg, and I do mean beg, for your forgiveness. (Especially you Dave)
I've got a lot of things to deal with in personal matters
I have no way of saying this without sounding like a complete douche but i'll be back only after the 21st of January.
Again, I apologize sincerely.
Dave, I give you permission to do whatever is needed to be done to me (my character). 
If you'll have to kill me or make me vanish, I won't mind it at all.
Hope you understand
Nick O.R.
 

Edited by HighNinjaFly

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Nick takes the hatched proffered and weighs it in his hand. The steps are getting closer and the two boys meet up with Mina by the coffee machine. 

Huddled together keeping their backs against the machine, a Rottweiler comes at them. 

 

The dog stops a few paces away from the intruders and walks from side to side, covering any way of retreat for the trio. 

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The black dog keeps its distance from the three visitors at the terminal. As Nick tries to move away from the coffee machine, waving his arms and hollering - the dog takes a step in his direction, cutting him off. He jumps back to the comfort of the machine. 

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"Oh, fuck this." Ned grabed his knife and ran towards the dog. He tried attaking with the hammer, but missed. The dog took advantage of that and jumped at Ned."Shit!" He was knocked to the ground. The dog was trying to rip his throat out, only stopped by the hammers' shaft in it's mouth. Ned started stabing away at the beast until it went limp. "Well, that could have gone better." Ned said as he got up.

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All covered in scratch marks from the muscular beast, Ned stretches and notices that he must have strained his back in wrestling the Rottweiler. No hasty maneuvers for the next hours...

Nick gawks at his friend. "Dude, that's just sick. You look like a butcher, man."

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Now, for a change of perspective-

 

 

When you hear the pilot speak it's in the Queen's English. "Hurry on chaps, we have another plane to beat."

 

When you have lugged in your gear the plane starts to tax off and soon lifts from the tarmac. It begins a straight eastbound trajectory.

 

You suddenly realize the plane is changing course to a northern route. You'll taking a shortcut over the Arctic. "ETA four hours." The pilot discloses. "Care for tea, chaps? There's a thermos here at the co-pilot's locker. Help yourselves."

 

The adventure is on and leaving all paperwork behind, disclosure agreements, signing away any warranties as this is an over the top assignment and won't be covered by anyone. You are doing this at free will. 

 

"Thank you, kind sir. A warm cup of tea would be great right now." Angie turns towards the stranger with all the fur. " And no, Mister, I am not a gold digger, do you have some stashed away in your furry hair? Btw. I am Rona Angie Hattingh, but you can call me Angie." Angie gives a beauteous smile at the stranger. 

 

I'm Garathil Dellandron. You can call me mr Dellandron,

 

"Why so formal, we are going to spend a lot of time together, I am not going to call you Mr Dellandron the whole time, I will call you....mmm....Ella, or I can call you.....?"

 

"You are doing this adventure life thingy, are you? With them cameras all over the place. Do you have small cameras on you? Are you recording this?" The pilot beams at the two passengers.

 

"A bit overreaching to have this old plane pick you up, with that other one leaving just a few hours before, right?"

"They must have some budget to throw around."

 

"And there are a couple of parachutes over there. One for you each. Oh, and one for your gear. Just place your gear in a net and hook the chute on it. We'll hook you all to a railing and the procedure will be just right as rain. Flawless."

 

Angie looks with her eyebrow to the sky at the parachutes. How safe are those parachutes? Who checked them? And who said they are jumping out of an aeroplane?

 

"Uhmm.. no, we didn't receive any little cameras, but what is this about parachutes, are we jumping out of the aeroplane?"

"Sure. When we reach the destination, I'm obliged to let you off."

He hands a chart of the area in Russia he's been handed by the production team.

 

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"No worries, there's a tracker at your camp. Just use one of the transcivers I have here. You'll be able to locate the signal while we can see where you are."

 

 

 

 

No map? Odd. Well, let gear up. Garathil proceeds to put his stuff in the net and hooks it up, but not before taking out the axe and putting it in his belt.

He then checks the other parachute, nods and puts it on.

 

Making his way to the cockpit Garathil asks the pilot: What's the weather like down there?

 

"-8 C to 5 C. Hard winds, will feel like -15 C." The pilot replies. 

"I'm Andrews. Glad to be at service."

 

 

Angie makes sure she has her hunting knife in her boot, she puts her gear in the net and hooks it up. Then she takes her parachute and puts it on. In for a penny and in for a pound.

 

"How much further, Mr Andrews?" 

 

"Any snow on the ground where we'll drop?" Garathils asks.

 

"Most certainly is. And we're doing the jump in 30 minutes. Make sure the lines are hooked. I'll check them for you in a minute." Andrews says as he leaves the controls. 

 

"Ready if you are?" Angie winks at Garathil. Ready to make the jump.

What? Suddenly not scared about the quality of the chutes?

 

Andrews, give the signal and we're going.

 

"Darling, one thing I already know, observing you, is to trust you on such matters, if you think it is safe then I do too." 

 

"Good luck and have a jolly time!" Andrews makes sure the lines are all where they should be and then pushes Garathil off the plane. "You want a push or do you prefer to jump yourself, miss? I'm not to push a lady off of a plane." He smiles at the young woman.

 

 

The parachutes are automatically opened as the line from the plane stretches and tenses up. Garathil finds himself landing in what seems to be a small village. It has power lines at least... No sign of any life, though. 

 

Local time is 19:30. Quite dark and a blanket of powder snow covers the roads and roof tops. Three or four houses or rather cabins can be spotted from his landing location.

 

Kholat-8.jpg

 

"Oh, well, here goes." Angie takes a deep breath and jumps out of the plane, trying to keep an eye on where Garathil is going and using her body as an arrow to push her to his direction.

Trying to follow the chute beneath her, Angie soon loses trail of the competition and finds herself in the wooden slopes of the Urals. 

 

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No gear, except what you have in your pockets at the current time. 

A third parachute was released after the two of you jumped. It should have been dropped, though. 

 

At the slopes, Angie finds heavy snow fall as the wind catches her chute and almost pulls her off her feet.

 

Garathil looks at the transceiver he was given to find out where he needed to go to.

Garathil mumbles to himself:  Damn useless thing, no sense of landscape or anything on this, just a directional header. Might as well see if anyone's home in one of these cabins. Might have some info about it.

The last Garathil saw when dwindling down through the cold air, was the speck of black against white when the chute Angie used. Then all above him was a grey blur. 

 

He remember that the chute for the gear had a bright red-orange fluorescent colour. If he could get to higher ground and dawn broke, he'd possibly be able to spot it. It might even be seen in the dark at that. 

 

Making his way to the nearest cottage, which is unlocked and unbarred, he steps into the outside - it seems. The inside of the cabin is all over-frozen and covered by a sprinkle of ice crystals. Crude furniture made out of discarded pieces, seemingly picked from all eras between 1920's to 1970's. Closed cupboards and closets line the walls and a kitchen with an ice water fall sprouting from the tap is the centerpiece of the small kitchen. The main room double as living area and bedroom.

 

************************

 

The previous glance at the other side of the game is a collective effort from three creators. I hope it was fun to see that you are in fact not alone in this.

And I hope it's not too bad to read even though we're only improvising this game.

Thank you for reading.

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Sure enough, a helicopter's position lights are visibly closing in on the runway. Before soon it's landing just outside the terminal stirring up a torrent of new snow. 

From the side doors, five people clad in red parkas exit.

They keep a low stance and duck, even though the rotors are way high to be of any danger, guess that's instinct at work. 

One of them points at the light up in the terminal and they all come running at the terminal.

They seem non-hostile, just eager.

 

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