отшельник

theo | 40 | mountain man . . . . . . . . . . YOU KEEP GOING & WASTING ALL YOUR TIME. ISOLATION IS WEIGHING ON YOUR MIND. GOD     FORGIVE     YOU FOR WASTING ALL YOUR LIFE. GROWING OLDER AND DYING SLOW INSIDE

[otshellnik]

bobbi‌:

starter - open - horde

her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, even as she ran one soothingly down puck’s back. his head was buried in her chest, and she could feel his tears soaking through her shirt as he sobbed silently. as awful as it was, bobbi was grateful that puck had already learned that silence meant survival.

a scream sounded out in the forest somewhere to the left of her, accompanied by a cacophony of snarling that had bobbi biting her lip and pressing her head into dark curly hair. she could feel her own tears running down her cheek, and she took a shuddering breath as she shifted herself into a more comfortable position in the tree.

   HE SEES HER in a tree of her own from the one he’s situated in, seemingly uncomfortable and --and she’s with a child. He doesn’t know how a child has been left outside of the bunker, but it feels innately wrong to him. He watches them for a moment, and then puts his lips into a small ‘o’ and makes a whistling bird noise, quiet but repeated a few times --something the infected would not recognize as out of the ordinary, but that human ears ought to take note of. He hopes. 

[otshellnik]

autumn‌:

@otshellnik​

Autumn was truly scared. It wasn’t something she had felt in some time, but as she perched on the building of the classrooms, the only thing she could feel was terror. Getting up here had been the easy part, but now she was stuck, terrified, and she was cold. There were too many infected for her to try and fight her way through and the only thing she could currently do was bide her time. She was glad the infected hadn’t noticed her up there yet, she hadn’t even come up with a solution on how to get down and the last thing she wanted was for them to spot her. It was easy to be quiet when you were up high and sitting. But what about when darkness hit? 

A shiver ran through her at the idea of being stuck on the roof in the dark with no heat and all the infected down below. There wasn’t much of an option, she had to move quickly when the time came. Drawing herself from her thoughts, she leaned over the edge, frowning as she saw an infected drop. She gazed around, wondering who had dropped it, but not seeing the source. 

   THERE IS AN easy sightline from the tree he sits in to the roof of the building the woman has found safety, or some semblance of it, upon. He doesn’t think she’s spotted him, so perhaps it’s not an easy vantage point from where she is. He lets it be for a while, watching her for a few more moments until it seems like she’s just... going to stay there. So he casts his eyes around the area between him and the building, and there is only one of the infected that he might encounter on the walk over. He’ll take the risk, he decides, and drops down to the ground as quietly as possible. 

   The creature turns its head, but not quite in the correct direction. It is a slow one, which he is grateful for, and he creeps around it on the sides of his feet so he makes next to no noise on the snow. He plucks the arrow from the dead creature, and tucks it into his quiver. The arrow that’s already nocked is then set firing at the back of the live --or, undead-- one’s skull, and it drops in an instant. He follows suit, collecting that arrow in turn, and moves to scale the building by the service ladder. When he’s up there, he stays crouched as he moves to meet the woman on the other side of the roof. As much as he knows best how to fend only for himself, this is not the way of this place, he’s quickly learned.

[otshellnik]

emily‌:

She didn’t know how long she’d been running -now walking- for, only that her calves were screaming at her to find somewhere to rest. Having been in the safe haven she now called home for only a week or two a best, she was still able to run as if she were on the road again. Unable to do much to help anyone else, she found solace in the trees surrounding their property while others attempted to fight or hide inside the fence line.

It all happened so quickly. One minute everything was fine and the next she was locked out of the bunker with no weapon, and a horde of zombies destroying their little Sanctuary. She’d done everything she could to stay as far away, and as unnoticeable, as possible from the heard of the undead. At least until one of them found her and began stalking her through the wooded maze. She moved as silent as possible, hoping to throw it off with a snowball in the opposite direction. Then an arrow whizzed through the air and ended the salivating monster that was too close for comfort. 

Her breath hitched, and her hands shot up to cover her mouth in case an involuntary noise would sound. With tears nearly frozen to her cheeks, she searched the direction the arrow came from for her savior, locking eyes with him.

   HE PREPARES HIMSELF to flee, or perhaps to shoot her down, too, if she makes too much noise. She seems to reel herself in, though, and he lowers the bow to his side, though it’s at the ready. He gives her one brief nod, then scans the immediate area both with eyes and ears to make sure nothing else was too close. He descends a few branches, surprisingly deft at the process and bracing his weight well, for a man of his stature. When he reaches the lowest perch, he slips over it, catching himself with a hand on the branch to keep from landing too loudly, and drops softly to the cold ground. 

         “You have weapons?” 

   The question is whispered with brows slightly furrowed, posed in a way that implies an expectation that she is armed, and a curiosity as to why she didn’t kill the thing herself. He’s mostly asking which kind of weapons she has with her, whether she’s well- or ill-prepared to face the life-threatening things they all will face outside the bunker.

[otshellnik]

open. horde invasion: outer sanctuary perimeter. 

   HE IS PERCHED in the lower branches of a tree, as carefully selected as time would allow, to maintain his weight, and with other trees nearby to climb to if need be. Ideally, he will sleep in the higher branches where they meet with the trunk, forming a natural cradling shape to keep him from tumbling to the ground in the night. He has no way of knowing how long he’ll be there, but the bark is edible if he needs to keep up energy. 

   He is settling into the crook of the branch when he heards footfalls distinctly human, something alive in the chaos of the unorganized, clumsy steps of the dead. Quietly, he sits upright, moves to a steady squatting position and nocks an arrow in his bow. There is a stray creature stumbling towards the source of the unmistakably human noise, and before it has the chance to get too close, Theo lets his arrow loose through the eye of the undead. He sits, watches and waits patiently to see what the other does before he decides what move is next for him to make. 

[otshellnik]

phoebe‌:

starter - @otshellnik - run.1

this was… not good. it was the walls of sanctuary that drew her in, the sturdy promise of safety that could keep her family away from harm when she found them. and now the gates of sanctuary lay crumpled before her. disappointing.

she watched impassively as people scurried around, some holding boards, other hold nails, and yet more holding each other in fear. pathetic. fear held people back, made them useless. she refused to be useless.

“so we head for the forest.” she hefted the rifle higher, feeling the weight in her hands and relishing in the pressure of the pistol on her hip. “food is our goal.”

   FOR A MOMENT, Theo watches the woman as she watches the other people around them. He wonders what she might be thinking, but thinks it best he doesn’t. He might find something there he doesn’t like, and that would only make their job harder. They must be successful, in one aim or another. Theo has decided that if they cannot hunt something down, then they’ll cut down a tree and bring it back for rebuilding the wall --but he’s confident that they’ll manage with their primary goal, just fine. 

         “Yes.” 

   He does not prefer guns, but he has one tucked up to his side in case of emergency. A bow and arrow are strapped over his back; his throwing knives hilted in his belt like daggers; another, larger blade tucked into his boot. He is not one to be caught unprepared, nor is he one to hesitate. Once they’ve agreed on their plan --the small amount of one he deems necessary, that is-- he begins stalking out towards the treeline. 

[otshellnik]

phoebe:

starter - @otshellnik

she had only been to russia once, on a mission to assassinate someone who was working to expose the agency. it was a cold place, and she didn’t really like it. the people were too… rough, something that applied to the tall red headed man in front of her. she didn’t even need to hear him speak to know he was from ‘the motherland’, she could see it in the way he carried himself- and in the scent that followed him.

“excuse me, ты из России?“

   THE MAN IS minding his own business, as he often is, when someone interruts him. However, he’s less displeased about it when she speaks to him in Russian, and his glare turns into the ghost of a smile as he answers. 

         “Да, из Сибири.* Where did you learn the language?”

[otshellnik]

phaedra‌:

       Phaedra’s eyes widened, reaching out to grab the toys that were on the table before they ended up soaked. She couldn’t help but join in on the boisterous laugh which easily filled the whole room. This man clearly had no issue with making a scene – though she highly doubted he knew he was making a scene.

             “– in training. I’m a scientist in training.”

        She didn’t know the language, not completely, but she was able to pick apart some words – scientist being one of the first that she’d learned.

             “I want to study the stars.”

   HE FILLS HIS mouth with a spoonful of potatoes, and she’s lucky he manages to swallow before she’s done speaking, or he would be showing her his meal when he smiles at her. He knows no women scientists, and has never met a woman who even wants to be one, but he thinks it’s a wonderful idea. 

         “This is good.” 

   He nods enthusiastically, both at Phaedra and the little girl with her, as if they were both equally involved in the conversation. 

         “What is the word for this, in English? For star-scientist?”

[otshellnik]

bobbi:

today was definitely not going to be a good day. she’d already fallen down the stairs, well slid to be more accurate, and now she was staring down feofilakt as he bit into… an onion? she’d believe she was still drunk if it wasn’t for the aching in her head.

“good morning?”

   HE IS MADE aware of a presence coming --tumbling, that is-- down the stairs, before he knows it’s Bobbi. When he sees her, though, he smirks and raises a brow in her direction, not bothering to swallow his food before speaking. 

         “Ah, noodle arms! доброе утро*.”

[otshellnik]

phaedra:

           “Hm?”

      Phaedra looked up from her book at the rough voice coming from across the table, broken by the laughter of the toddler next to her. She looked from the girl to the man, a giggle escaping her lips, which had already parted into a bright smile, at the sight of the man with a mouthful of food. It took a minute for his words to register, but she glanced from him to her book and back again. It was hard to explain that it was meant to be for people who just wanted to learn about astrophysics without dedicating their life to studying the science. 

            “Always yearning to learn, очень большим*”

   THEO’S BROW FURROWS for a moment, and then he roars in laughter. A large, calloused fist comes down on the table and shakes it hard enough to knock his cup over. The laugh dies down to a chuckle as he picks up the cup and soaks the liquid up with the sleeve of his shirt, seemingly unbothered by the entire incident. 

         “This is very good!” 

   His voice is too loud for indoors, but he’s excited. He can’t help himself. 

         “You are, how to say... ученый* then, yes?”

[otshellnik]

dorian:

     Dorian had been out patrolling the back area of Sanctuary, the air was so cold he could see his breath, but it wasn’t so much the cold that bothered him. As per usual, his rifle was strapped to his back, every few meters he’d nestle the stock in his shoulder and use the scope to do a sweep of the surrounding area to ensure that nothing would be coming up behind the town. He walked up towards the man, watching as he unrolled his knives on the table. If there was anything that excited Dorian in this new world, it was weapons. 

     “I don’t think I’ve thrown a knife since I was in the military, except for the occasional combat knife I’ve launched into the heads of those corpses walking around.” The male responded, taking the rifle from his shoulder and leaning it up against the table. 

@otshellnik

   THEO CONSIDERS THE other man for a few moments, a little longer than some others might, and without trying to hide it. Yes --he carries himself like he’s been trained, like he has seen too many horrible things to count. Theo knows men like this, from home. 

         “Yes, very good for-- launching.” 

   It’s a word his tongue doesn’t know, and it comes out sounding more like ‘LUNCHINK’ than anything else, but he can decipher its meaning given its context. He spins the knife deftly between his fingers without so much as a nick, a motion very clearly not for show, but done out of muscle memory. He then extends the handle towards his new companion, blade pinched between his thumb and forefinger, as an offering for him to give it a try.

[otshellnik]

ayla:

Ayla blinked once- twice- as she met her patient’s gaze in the moments after he had yanked the curtain away. Had he meant to startle her? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d examined a hostile patient, nor a silent one. Medical school had taught her many lessons, but the key lesson she had learned was patience. “Shall we begin?” She asked, nodding slightly toward the cot that would serve as an examination table. “Comprehensive medical examinations often take time- I wouldn’t like to waste any more of yours than absolutely necessary.” 

   HE CONTINUES TO eye her for a moment, then considers her words. This is true. The longer he stands there, the longer he’ll have to be there at all. So he moves, after another few seconds, and he sits on the very edge of the cot. 

         “Faster, better. Yes?” 

   It’s not really a question, despite the inclination in tone at the end of the word. He only hopes he won’t be prodded or poked or have to do much more than the bare minimum. 

[otshellnik]

dorian. post-festival, evening: target range. 

   HE CARRIES HIS knives to a small field near the back of the town, thinking there will be no one else outside to disturb his practice, but he’s surprised when he sees someone he doesn’t recognize --not because he doesn’t recognize him, as he’s only been there for two weeks, but that they’re outside at all. Most of the people he’s encountered here have been babies about the cold. This a good first impression, he must admit. In silence, he rolls his knives out onto the makeshift table there, a piece of plywood set atop a pair of a-frame stands, and carefully selects the first one he’ll throw. Before he does, he looks to the man near him. 

         “You throw knives, or just bullets, стрелок*?”

@marksmanmaddox

[otshellnik]

phaedra. post-festival, lunchtime: mess hall.

   HIS PLATE IS as full as it can be with rationed portions as he searches for a seat to take. Not as many people eat lunch in shared spaces, it seems, as they do at dinner. Still, this only means that many people are spread out, leaving no single table completely empty. He sits at the one with the people who seem most easily intimidated into leaving him alone, and without a greeting or acknowledgement that the others are there at all, he begins shovelling his food into his mouth. Eventually, he hears a child make a noise, and he looks up. He smiles at her with a mouth full of food, then notices the book the older girl has with her --Astrophysics for People in a Hurry. Hm.  He can’t resist.

         “---Why in hurry, девушка*?”

@phaekings

[otshellnik]

bobbi. post-festival, early morning: house 101.

   THEO DOESN’T MAKE it a point to spend more time than he must in the communal kitchen of his assigned house. Communal areas are where you run into people, and though he doesn’t necessarily dislike the people he’s been housed with, he feels awkward around them. He’ll never say as much, but it likely shows on his face when Bobbi walks in on him at an ungodly hour of the morning, eating an onion like it’s an apple. 

@andtherewillcomesoftrains

[otshellnik]

ayla:

Who: Ayla Kaplan & Theo Pozdnyakov When: Mid-blizzard Where: The infirmary

A new arrival. In the middle of this storm. Ayla hadn’t quite believed the call over the radio when it had come in. Frostbite was a primary concern, as well as hypothermia, and Ayla had felt quite bad about asking the new arrival to change into a gown for the standard medical examination. She’d made sure to leave plenty of blankets at the end of the cot to make him more comfortable and regretted the inability to heat them as she could have once upon a time. 

“Mr. Pozdnyakov?” Ayla called from the opposite side of the curtain after giving him plenty of time to change “May I come in?” 

@otshellnik

   THEO SWEARS UNDER his breath in his mother tongue as he hears the voice through the curtain. He has been pacing the length of the infirmary bed, silent on well-calloused bare feet as he waits. Now, he makes her wait, continuing to pace for a moment before he turns to the curtain where he can see her silhouette, and yanks it back. He stares at her wordlessly, unyielding and unwilling to do anything that might make her job easier --he does not want to do this.

[otshellnik]

minerva:

     Her gaze drops, falling to the bottle now shoved ever so delicately between her breasts, though she knew that wasn’t exactly on purpose. There was clearly very little regard from the ginger yeti who also spit the drink towards her feet. Gripping his wrist, she shoved his hand and the bottle away from her, eyes now darting to him. She had to admire his bluntness and lack of concern for those around him – perhaps that’s what she should aspire to instead of trying to be more social and nice.

               “Listen, Bigfoot, I don’t know which cave you crawled                  out of, but do that again and I will fight you.”

   THEO TAKES NO notice of just where his hand has ended up, but he does pay attention when she shoves it away from her. He doesn’t resist, but he can tell she is strong. His brow lifts in a slow, smooth motion to reveal an expression of both surprise and intrigue. As if making a point, he sips the beer again despite his evident distaste for it, sucking his teeth and letting them show through parted lips before he speaks.

         “I am only warning, девушка*, this drink is no good...           But a fight, I think would be interesting, yes?”

[otshellnik]

cal:

Having had more beverages than he could now count on two hands, Cal had a slight sway in his step as he walked past a group of people to see if there were any bite sized snacks left. Stumbling over his own feet, he was catapulted into the already forward moving arm of the newcomer. It felt as though all of the air in Cal’s body was forced to leave as the momentum from the man’s hand met the same of his own stumble forward, causing his diaphragm to spasm and a gasp for air as he clutched the man’s shirt to steady himself.

“What the f-”

   THEO STARES AT the drunk man before him,and with the beer still held out against his chest, he plucks Cal’s fingers from his shirt with his free hand. He holds eye contact, and after a moment, sets the beer down on the closest nearby surface. 

         “You cannot hold your liquor, Америкос*. You should sit down,           before getting hurt.”