Chapter 3: Breaking the Ice
Chapter 3
Breaking the Ice
I stood there, on top of the strange, destroyed machine. I couldn’t believe what I just heard. It was illogical. Impossible.
It talked. It just talked. In perfect Equestrian. It’s intelligent. It’s sapient.
I tried to understand the implications of what it had done and said. I gulped and tried to calm down, forcing myself to think.
With the help of its companion, it just killed these dogs without mercy... and now it just wants to talk with me? Can I trust this creatures? At least they haven't been aggressive towards me... yet.
I was going to panic again. I needed to do something else, something rational to calm down.
I examined the creature’s features. It was bipedal, had no tail and its face was flat, with two ears on each side. Its had two tiny grey eyes and a thin nose in the center of its face... but what struck me the most was its baldness. It didn’t have a mane, some hair barely covered its skull, muck like its.. beard? Its deep, slow and monochord voice definitely sounded male. I had never seen such a creature before.
What is this place?
I nearly jumped in the air as the bipedal creature talked again.
The equine creature was staring at me, immobile, her eyes wide as saucers. Literally.
These eyes are huge. How is this even possible? And this color... amethyst? How is that possible? How?
I shook of these thoughts and sat down, waiting for the creature to make a move, and I waited. The silence was deafening, only disturbed by noises from the outside: distant mutant howls, human screams and gunshots. being a trained sniper, I am very patient, so I waited, all senses in full alert. After a good fifteen minutes, the creature moved, uncomfortable.
“What are these beasts?” she asked in a trembling voice, her gaze locked with the corpses of the dogs.
English again.
I took a deep breath. “Psy Dogs,” I answered calmly. “They can create illusionary copy of themselves and use them to overwhelm their prey... in this case, you. Do not worry though, they are dead now, they cannot hurt you anymore.”
That did seem to calm her a bit, but I needed something else to break the ice. I looked at the chopper. I actually wondered how she got up there in the first place. Then I facepalmed.
Of course. Wings.
“Do you need help getting down?” I asked anyway.
The creature’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and surprise and she visibly relaxed, as if this little phrase I said broke whatever doubts she had while throwing out the window her opinion of me.
“I can handle myself,” she replied, unfolding her wings.
Whoa. Her wingspan is huge.
She jumped off the helicopter and gracefully glided down... only to stumble and faceplant as she hit the ground, her wings sprawled at her sides.
Ouch.
I ran towards her immobile form.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied, shakily standing up, before falling again.
“Apparently not,” I said, sighing, before opening my backpack. “Let me see... there. Have some bread.”
I turned back towards the winged equine, who had managed to stand up. Only then I noticed how small she was. Her horn barely reached my forehead, and I am not especially tall. Then I noticed how tensed she was. Not out of fear though. It seemed to take a great toll on her just to keep her posture.
“Sit down,” I asked. “You are only hurting yourself, trying to appear stronger than you are.”
At these words, the creature seemed to deflate. Her facial features drooped and she slowly sat down, sighing.
Damn. How can she be so expressive?
“It is normal to feel weak, you are severely malnourished,” I explained. “I had to use multiple healing artifacts to bring you back to life after I pulled you out of the claws of these two Bloodsuckers yesterday. These things do not magically close every wound you know: they actually accelerate the metabolism, so quick sustenance is required after using one. Right now you need rest and food,” I said, handing her the loaf of bread.
She picked up the bread in her telekinesis and hungrily took a bite out of it.
Fascinating... this TK ability is simply astonishing. And she knows what bread is. How Interesting.
“What is your name?” I asked.
“Pr- Celestia,” she replied, taking another mouthful of bread.
Now what is the standard phrase when you meet someone... ‘nice to-’ right.
“Nice to meet you Celestia. My name is Strider. Where do you come from?” I asked. “I’ve never seen a being such as you.”
“A land called Equestria,” she replied, a hint of sadness in her voice.
Equestria? There is no land called like that... not on Earth anyway.
“I do not know if that means something to you, but we are in Ukraine, a country on the planet Earth,” I said, holding my chin pensively.
At these words, her ears drooped and she looked at the ground.
“I’m really lost, huh?”
Vano had cleared the room of corpses and piled them up in the far corner of the hangar. He approached us and started to make a fire.
“Hey cheer up, least we're here and helping you. Believe me, it could be much worse,” he said, before sitting down next to the fire he had created and pulling a guitar out of nowhere.
Celestia sighed. “Yeah. That’s one way of seeing things,” she deadpanned, before wincing. “Ouch.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned.
“I think I sprained my fetlock,” she said, holding up her right foreleg.
I approached her. “Let me see that.”
She presented her leg hesitantly, letting me examine it. Her ‘fetlock’ -as she described it- was slightly swollen and she winced as I poked it.
“That does not look too bad,” I said as pulled out my Firefly out of my artifact belt.
Celestia backed off, staring at the artifact. “What’s this?” she asked.
“A Firefly, it is a healing artifact. Relax, this is only going to help,” I assured. “Keep eating, you will feel better.”
I applied the artifact to her leg and she instantly relaxed. Her fetlock looked completely normal again -well, like the rest of her leg: without any irregularity, not even a visible hoof.
“That was strange,” she said. “This... artifact seems to be emitting traces of raw magical energy, yet it heals better than any medical spell I know of.”
I chuckled. “You could call it magic, I suppose. But this is just an anomalous formation spawned by the Zone, like many others,” I explained, attaching the artifact to my belt.
“Anomalous? The zone?” asked Celestia, finishing her bread.
“Yeah,” said Vano. “The Chernobyl exclusion Zone, or Zone of Alienation... I’m sure Strider here will be more than happy to explain you everything in great detail.”
I hushed him. “Explanations will wait. Now, we must return to base.”
Vano nodded, pensive. “That would be a good idea. You never know when a mutant is going to show up and tear you in half,” he said, standing up.
“Come, Celestia, let’s go.”
She shakily stood up and took a step. Then another. She did not look steady but could walk apparently.
“I’m right behind you,” she said.
My whole body felt sore, but I could walk. This artifact was a wonder. Not only it did heal my leg but it also leaked raw magic, giving me a source to replenish my energy.
At least now I can use basic telekinesis now. Why is the magic field so weak in this place?
I was following the two ‘stalkers’ as they called themselves, and they were speaking animatedly in a language I didn’t understand. I was about to ask them what they were talking about when I fell to the ground head first, my legs giving up under me.
The stalkers turned around.
“Are you alright?” asked Strider.
I grunted. “I’m fine, I assure you,” I replied, struggling to get back on my hooves.
Vano snorted. “She doesn’t look fine to me.”
Strider knelt next to me. “Let me help you,” he said, before wrapping his arms around me.
I thrashed, trying to escape his grasp. “Wait! What are you doing?”
“Well obviously You cannot walk on your own, so I am going to carry you,” he replied. “Would you prefer to be left alone, outside?”
I nodded negatively.
“Good.”
He lifted me off the ground and installed me on his back. I felt blood rushing to my cheeks as I tried to understand why he was doing such a thing.
“W-why would you carry me like that?” I asked, embarrassed.
“Because I doubt that you would find my shoulder very comfortable,” he stated. “Why do you ask?”
“Nothing,” I replied. “Nothing at all.”
Vano gave me an amused look, as if he knew what was going on in my head. “Is it some kind of innuendo or practice from your world?” he asked.
“No.” I felt my face become even redder. “Yes,” I admitted in a faint voice.
Strider raised an eyebrow. “That is an interesting development."
I bit my lip. “It’s not funny,” I said, my face buried in Strider’s back.
“I think it is,” replied Vano. “What does it mean anyway?” he asked curiously.
“Well,” I began. “It’s an habit stallions have... they carry their mates like that before... you know.”
I looked at Strider. Strider looked at Vano. Vano looked at me. Both stalkers burst out laughing. Strider almost dropped me to the ground, his laughter interrupted by a fit of coughing. He crouched and set me down on the ground.
“Oh, thank you. I needed that my friend,” he said, laughing and ruffling my mane.
Friend? Why would he consider me as a friend? We barely met.
I curled up in a ball and he lifted me off the ground again, this time picking me up in his arms. I looked around, still slightly embarrassed. I wasn't used to be carried around -well, not in such an intimate fashion.
“There. Do you prefer it that way? No sexual innuendos?” he asked.
I nodded, blood coming to my face again.
Vano laughed. “Let’s go then,” he said, before looking at the sky. “It’s going to rain.”
And so we walked. The road was crumbled, its grey surface letting grass pass through. The buildings around us were all ruined. A cold breeze picked up, rustling the leaves of the rotten trees.
I shivered.
Strider looked at me. “Feeling cold?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Let’s hurry then. I have a blanket at the camp.”
We entered a tall, decrepit building and made our way up some stairs. Once on the top floor, Strider walked down the hallway and entered a room on the right.
Everything was as I remembered: the cardboard box, the couches, the dirty mattress, everything was at its place.
Is that blood on the mattress?
Strider set me down on one of the couches and wrapped me in a blanket before giving me a strange looking metallic can. There was a picture of vegetables on it, but I didn’t know what it was. I had never seen such a contraption before.
“What is this?” I asked.
My two newfound friends gave me a strange look.
Vano shrugged. “Well duh, it’s a can of food,” he said as if it was obvious.
Strider sat down next to me. “Let me help you.”
He opened the 'can' with a tool and handed it to me, along with a set of flatware.
“Thanks,” I said with a smile.
I examined the contents of the can. It looked like lentils, but the reason why they would be conserved in a metallic can eluded me. I shrugged and picked up the flatware. Every piece had a strange symbol stamped on it. It looked like a wing under a sun, with a strange caption underneath it, reading ‘монолит’.
“What does this symbol mean?” I asked.
Strider’s eyes widened. “Ah bugger, wrong set. Let me-”
“That?” interrupted Vano. “It’s the logo of his old faction, the combat division of the Monolith.”
“The monolith?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“A religious cult composed of brainwashed stalkers, hostile to all but their own. Very nasty fighters... engaging one of them alone in combat, let alone an entire group is suicide,” said the bearded stalker casually.
I gulped and slowly moved away from Strider in fear, who was giving his friend a murderous glare.
Vano brought a hand over his mouth. “Aw shit. I fucked up, didn’t I? ... I’m sorry Strider,” he apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. “Just so you know, Celly, he’s over that now,” he added.
I gave Strider a wary glance. “Over that?”
The bald stalker sighed. “Yes. Somehow I broke free from the whole brainwashing thing, and I found myself with a set of skills completely alien to me,” he said, his face taking a somber expression.
“What do you mean?” I asked, concerned.
“I just woke up one day, this tattoo on my arm,” he began, rolling up his right sleeve, revealing a strange mark on his arm, “I was laying on the ground among other people who, like me, were clad in Monolith armor and had no idea who they were.”
I nodded, pensive. “Oh. I see.”
“No you don't," Vano chimed in.
"The first thing I do whenever I enter a room is catching the sight lines and looking for an exit. I can tell the serial number on a gun I see only once, pick it up and use it as if I had been doing that my whole life; I can sneak up on a Bloodsucker and then punch it to death in one strike. I know on instinct where to aim to hit my target, whatever the conditions, whatever the range; and that with all my gear, I can run flat out for a little over half a kilometer before my hands start shaking. Now why would I know that? How can I know that and not know who I am?" the Strider bitterly asked. "I went back to Pripyat once, hoping to find answers to my questions... there were none. Only brainwashed soldiers." The buzzed man sighed. "I thought of starting my own faction with my former squadmates, but they liked it in the Duty faction and did not want to quit. So there I was, alone and lost,” he added glumly.
Not unlike me actually.
I said nothing. Strider stayed silent, a depressed expression on his face.
Vano sighed. “Jeez, cheer up dude. I was there, and the Major too!”
“I suppose you are right, my friend,” said the bald stalker, laying down on the couch. “At least you guys were there. Having you two helped.”
“And you? What’s your story? Who are you?” I asked to Vano.
"Who am I?" The bearded stalker laughed. “Me? Basically, kind of a big deal.”
What?
Strider facehoov-handed. "Oh boy."
“You listening?” he continued. “Okay. Grass grows, birds fly, sun shines,” he said, counting on his fingers, “and brother, I hurt people. I’m a force of nature!” claimed the tall stalker.
He then picked up his big weapon and put it on the cardboard box we used as a table, collapsing it.
“I am heavy weapons expert and this, is my weapon. She weighs ten point five kilograms unloaded and fires six thousand roubles standard 7.62x54 mmR two hundred rounds belts at eight hundred rounds per minute. It costs five thousand five hundred roubles to fire this weapon, for twelve seconds. The theory goes like this: You pull the trigger on a machine gun until the whole world turns into blood, and it's awesome. You can't argue with that; that's science. I have yet to meet someone who can outsmart a wall of bullets.”
I stared at the giant, not sure what to make of his tirade. “Okay? So you’re the muscle here.”
Vano looked at me, obviously feigning to be offended. “Hey! I’m also the brains too! I’d pay to see Strider navigate inside an anomaly field,” he added, laughing. "It would be hilarious."
Celestia was eating silently, curiously observing Vano who had field stripped his machine gun. The weapon was open: the bolt, his carrier, rod and recoil spring lying next to it. The bearded stalker checked the barrel and the trigger group, replaced the bolt in his carrier, put it back in place, followed by the rod and recoil spring. He then put the feeding tray back into place and loaded the weapon. After closing it, he pulled the bolt back, producing a series of clicks and released it. It came back into place with a metallic clunk, indicating that the weapon was ready to fire. Satisfied, he flicked on the safety and put the weapon on the ground next to him, barrel pointing upwards.
I looked at my friend. “So, what do we do now?” I asked in a low voice. “With her, I mean,” I added, gesturing towards Celestia.
“I do not know,” he answered. “Maybe we should look for a way to send her back to her world... also get to know her. She may be going to stay for a while,” he added.
“Good point,” I approved.
“Why wouldn't you tell us more about you?” vano asked aloud, turning towards Celestia.
The alicorn stared at us, before she shrugged. “As you already know, my name is Celestia. I’m a pony, subspecies alicorn. Back home, I’m one of the princess and diarch of the country known as Equestria.”
Vano snorted. “Whoa really?” he asked, dubious. “I call bullshit.”
“She must be telling the truth you know,” I replied. “Her jewelry seems to be made out of solid gold after all,” I added, examining the dirty and damaged set the alicorn was wearing.
And so she told us pretty much everything about her homeworld: weather control, magic, history, customs and traditions of her country, its inhabitants, government system, folklore... by noon we were experts about her homeworld. It all sounded like a fairy tale... but she seemed so convinced when she talked about it. She was really believing what she was saying.
“And how did you end up here?” I finally asked.
“I don’t really know,” she began. “It all began with strange occurrences coming from a town called Ponyville.”
Ponyville? Seriously?
The alicorn continued. “Ponies had been disappearing in the nearby forest. There were reports of new strange, deadly creatures roaming the forest and a few corpses had been found. These creatures weren’t like anything ponykind had encountered before.”
“So what happened next?” asked Vano, grabbing his shotgun before starting to disassemble it.
“I mounted an expedition to explore, rescue and study. A group consisting of a dozen scientists, no less than a platoon of Royal Guards and myself went in the forest to investigate. Once in the forest we noticed that something was amiss: the wildlife, usually vibrant and obnoxious, was quiet, as if hiding from something. After a while, we arrived in a clearing and made our base of operations there. While the guards were establishing the camp, I decided to take a stroll and visit the old castle ruins, maybe out of nostalgia. There was a disturbance in the magical field of the area though, and a big, shimmering sphere was floating inside of the old throne room. I didn't know what it was, so I cast a probe spell on it. There was a blinding flash of light and found myself lying on the ground... I was so cold, so weak. I thought I was going to die there.”
Vano looked up from his shotgun. “Space Bubble. That was an anomaly was a Space Bubble, known for its rarity and randomness. Sometimes they stay in place for ages, sometimes they change place between Blowouts... sometimes they trap you in a pocket dimension, sometimes they just teleport you, though one Teleport Bubble will always lead to the same place.”
Celestia let out a sigh and turned towards me. “You know the rest: the monsters, everything.”
I nodded. “When I found you, two Bloodsuckers were... well, to put it quite frankly, they were feeding off of you. You were nearly dead,” I said. “Thankfully, I managed to bring you back to the living. You know the rest,” I added.
The alicorn smiled. “I will be eternally thankful for that. My kingdom, my sister would not fare very well without... me.”
Her ears drooped she looked at her hooves. A lone tear made her way down her cheek, tracing a wet line on her fur, before falling to the ground, breaking apart and staining the already dirty floor.
I put a hand on her shoulder. That startled her but she didn’t back away from my hand.
“I’m sure she will be able to cope. Besides she is not alone, you even told us. I’m sure everything will be alright on their side,” I assured her.
“You should worry more about yourself,” added Vano. “The Zone is a dangerous place.”
I could only approve of that. Deciding to cut short this depressing conversation, I looked at my PDA. It was half past noon.
“Okay people, we should move out if we want to do something today,” I announced.
Vano raised an eyebrow. “And we’re going to let her come with us like that? Barefoo-hoofed and without even a weapon?”
“I was going to get to that,” I replied. “did you keep that leather coat you had?”
My friend’s face lit up in realization. “Ohh, I see what you wanna do. It’s gonna be ready in a jiffy,” he said.
“Good. Celestia, come with me,” I added, turning towards her.
I opened my supply chest and pulled out various supplies from it.
“First off: guns,” I began.
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Guns?”
“Yes, guns. Shooters. Firearms. Weapons,” I said. “This is my sniper rifle,” I explained, patting my SVU. “It is very accurate and great for killing targets at long range.”
“But why always killing?”
I shrugged. “For survival. For money. For f-forget that. Mutants and bandits alike don’t hesitate to kill stalkers on sight. This is how the Zone works.” I grabbed my shotgun. “This was my shotgun.”
“Was?”
“Yes. It is yours now,” I said, handing her the weapon. “This particular one is a TOZ-34, a double barrel hunting shotgun. Very accurate, just the way I like my guns. Of course, it is limited by its two-round capacity but it is very easy to use, and it will never jam” I explained. “Ideal for a rookie like you.”
Celestia gave me an odd look and telekinetically picked up the rifle, examining it with a mixture of curiosity and disgust.
I turned around and grabbed some supplies and two messenger bags and put them in front of me. When I raised my gaze back at the alicorn, my blood froze. She was holding her rifle in her telekinesis and looking right down the barrels.
Oh crap.
I swiftly yanked the gun out of her grasp and pointed it at the ceiling.
“Are you crazy?!” I yelled. “Do you want to kill yourself?!”
Celestia’s ears flattened against her head and she cowered from my outburst.
I took a deep breath. “I am sorry. I did not even explain you how a gun works.” Another breath. “So. This is a gun. All guns are kinetic weapons, meaning that they launch a traumatic, high velocity projectile from this end,” I explained, pointing at the muzzle of the shotgun before I showed her a buckshot round. “Never, EVER point a gun at something you do not intend to destroy, got it? Damn."
The alicorn nodded meekly.
“Good. Now, onto these supplies,” I said, showing her everything I had produced from the chest. “Medical supplies, ammo, food, drinks... most of these consumables is pretty basic.”
As much as I despised my weapon, I could not help but feel a certain appeal to it. It seemed so simple yet so complicated... a beautiful and deadly amalgam of wood and metal. Though I felt comfortable with it, as it would protect me, the mere thought that it was such a death machine made me shiver.
Shortly after Strider had explained me how guns and all these supplies worked, Vano came up.
“I’ve finished the coat,” he announced, holding a jury-rigged leather jacket with cloth sewn in some places. “Added a few Kevlar plates to it that had been laying around, should be able to stop a pistol round... I hope.”
I grabbed the jacket, put it on and moved around.
“It’s heavy, but somewhat comfortable at least. I don’t feel the cold anymore,” I announced. “I don’t like the idea of wearing leather though. Animal skin... ugh.”
Vano waved dismissively. “Eh, don’t worry, it’s Chimera hide... a mutant.”
Strider gave him a dubious look. “Chimera? Really?”
The bearded stalker shrugged. “Hey who’s the mutant hunter here? Me. You’re just a sniper.”
Strider chuckled. “Just a sniper? Long range is my territory. People take big detours to avoid me,” he said with a smirk.
“Exactly. You're the pussy hiding in his bush all the time, while I crush my enemies with walls of lead and even my fists if I have to.”
"Excuse me but what's a Chimera?" I asked.
"A very dangerous mutant. Four legged, two headed, can smell you a mile off, even when they're sleeping! They hunt mostly at night, stalking silently their prey then pouncing and pinning it to the ground," Vano explained. "After that, their two heads do the rest. Trust me, two sets of jaws make quick work of any prey very fast."
"Sounds... horrible. Are they commonplace around here?"
My tall friend laughed. "Thankfully no. But you'll find out that a big pack of dogs can be just as deadly. You see, the secret in that case is to find an elevated position..."
I grabbed the two messenger bags and started to fill them with supplies, distractedly listening to Vano's speech about mutants and the best ways to hunt them.
I put the bags down before Celestia. “Twenty-five twelve gauge slugs, about thirty buckshot rounds, three grenades, Five medkits, ten bandages, two antirads and radioprotectant drugs, three antidotes and ah, one Psy-blocker,” I enounced. “three loaves of bread, five energy drinks, two food cans and a bottle of Vodka... You are ready,” I said. “Oh, and I almost forgot: my anomaly detector. Veles model, second to best; and some artifacts: a Flame, a Firefly and a Bubble.” I added, handing her the device. “The Flame and Firefly are healing artifacts while the Bubble absorbs radiation.”
The white alicorn was immobile, staring at the bags before her. I snapped my fingers a couple of times in front of her face, gaining her attention.
Her gaze switched hesitantly between me and the bags. “I don’t know what to say... I can’t accept all of this, I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”
Vano laughed. “Girl, get used to it,” said the tall stalker. “Strider here has this nasty habit to give his supplies away to people in need.”
I rolled my eyes. “This kind of supplies are the bare minimum to survive in the Zone, I could not let her wander around barefoot-hoofed. It is a fate worse than death,” I grumbled.
“Zombies do it.”
“My point exactly.”
“Bleh.”
“Zomb-b-bies?” asked Celestia, visibly frightened.
I sighed. “Stalkers who were unfortunate enough to run into a Controller, a high intensity psy-field or to get hit by a blowout,” I explained. “They are still alive, but become little more than empty husks, driven by their instinct. Some remember how to use weapons... killing them is more an act of mercy than anything else. They are not the most dangerous enemy in the Zone, by very far, even in large groups.”
“Fuck yeah!” exclaimed Vano. “I just mow them down with my PKM and they all drop like flies!” he added, mimicking firing his machine gun. “YA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA POW HA-HA!”
I shook my head at Vano’s antics. “They do not bite or anything like in urban legends. They just attack on sight,” I assured Celestia. "It is pretty sad actually. Sometimes you can hear them moaning and grumbling to themselves. They talk about going home, to their family."
“O-okay.”
“You’ll encounter some soon enough, they are not exactly rare, unfortunately,” added Vano.
I looked at my PDA. Three in the afternoon.
Plenty of time ahead of us.
“We should go to the canal,” I said.
“Good idea,” Vano approved. “Celly needs a bath. She begins to smell like a rotten corpse and she needs some kind of field training anyway.”
Celestia nodded in approbation. “I could really go for a bath now,” she said, examining her stained coat.
“Then let's move,” I concluded.
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So there I am, releasing chapter at 2 AM. Holidays, fuck yeah! They're over in three days though. Better start to do my homework.
Nice.
2 AM? Damn you really are in another country. Great chapter, a bit cleaner I think from the original and the inclusion of the AN with the links is a great touch.
2268388
France, heh. Homeland of the baguette, fries and xenophobia. It's almost nice at no time of the year.
2268446
Good place to visit but never to stay?
2268477
It's meh.
2268537
I'll take your word for it, the closest I've been to France was French I and II in High School and all I remember from that is how to say hello and cheese omelet.
Well I hope you're happy, I'm installing Shadow of Chernobyl and Call of Pripyat as I type this.
2268593
You won't regret it. It can be frustrating at times, but the whole series is amazing. Just remember to play on master difficulty all the time. The difficulty makes the enemies react quicker and the guns -yours and the NPCs- deal more damage. There is also a permanent thread on /vg/ where most people are polite and welcoming, except that Deep&Edgy guy...
New reader here, I like this fic very much although the TF2 references were... Awkward, somewhat.
Looking forward to the next chapter.
2268617
Ohh I've already played the entire series, I'm just upset because I'm gonna have to uninstall a half dozen steam games to have enough space, and my "read later" list isn't getting any smaller...
Also
>Going to /v/ for advice about video games
/tg/ always has way better STALKER threads imho.
2268670
/vg/, not /v/...
/v/ hasn't been about video games for a long time.
2268630
Yeah. The TF2 reference sort of fit better in the previous version but I wanted to keep it. There's also a Jason Bourne reference somewhere.
2269010
Causes have been established. It's written explicitly. Everything will be explained in detail in a later chapter.
S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Call of Pripyat with MISERY mode installed on master now that's some challenging shit
Like your version of Celestia kinda adorable
all in all really good chapter
2271298
Try out ZoA or STALKERSOUP for SoC. Not dying? Impossible.
2271499 will have to try it out looks promising although the fact that in misery bullets in a unfortunate place can instantly kill you and first aid don't do jack shit other then heal like 10 % of your health and stop bleeding it kinda get ridiculous if you get caught off guard or surrounded without any cover
2273598
ZoA increases the A-life and everything is harder... I wasn't prepared.
In SOUP, the NPCs have lazor accuracy, microsecond reflexes and battles strategies that constantly outsmart the player. Oh, and one bullet WILL kill you, whether it hits your head or foot and whether you wear leather rags or a top of the line exoskeleton.
Misery is a walk in the park next to this.
2273647 I will take your word for it then although i kinda don't like the fact that you can die when someone shots you in the foot
Heh, didn't remember the explanation for Cel's embarrassment from the previous version, but
images.wikia.com/gravityfalls/images/7/7b/S1e13_horse_riding_horse.png
Also, check the description of the Space Bubble.
Celestia's surprisingly coy and submissive for a Princess in this story. I imagined she'd be a little more imposing, even though she's out of her element.
What made you write her this way?
Translation:
"I WASTED FOUR ARTIFACTS ON YOU YOU PIECE OF SHIT THERES NO WAY IN HELL YOU'RE DYING OF STARVATION"
At least, that's what I'd say.
I just wanted to say, I understand english is not your firstqnguave, but i believe you are using the wrong word when describing strider.
You keep saying "bald". But judging from the picture on the wiki, he isnt bald.
Bald, to most people, means no hair, as in he took a razor and is now just skin on his head. From the pic, he still has hair, so i would suggest you say he is "buzzed" or "buzzed cut" or even shaved headed if you want us to think he stull has some hair on his head, even if it is just growing back.
Hmm I just found this story’s update (stupid website) so I thought I’d give this whole thing a fresh reading...
Celestia seems a little meek and submissive to me at the moment, although I guess it fits with the whole losing almost all of her magic and finding herself in the middle of an alien environment. It just seems a little off...
What will really be interesting is if they both end up in Equestria, and how that will affect Celestia when she is back in her element. Because I know she will be pared with stalker at some point how will stalker react when the tables turn in that regard.
Dat TF2 references
Celestia seems really calm when the guy is bragging about murdering with his gun lol and you would think zombies would be the least of her worries after meeting a bloodsucker =P
haven't gotten far in COP but I'm loving this fic so far! COP is a bit hard for me to get into since I really love shadow of Chernobyl.
3979018 Celestias centuries if not millennia old, she's probably used to war/violence
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It's not a rifle, it is a shotgun. Also, you have used "install" instead of "place", they both work technically, but "place" is the better choice.
Something tells me that you copied some of this from the Bourne Identity movie.
Great, now as í'm reading, I'll be mentally voicing these two by Jason Bourne and heavy weapons guy.
Thanks...
If the advanced technology and clothing didn't tip you off, then do you really count as sapient yourself?
Funny and good fridge logic. Never thought I'd see the day.
...what?
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Yeah this is really jarring. I realize this was written ages ago around the start of Season 3. But even back then we knew Celestia and Luna had a long, storied history of personally hunting down threats to Equestria in its formative years. I'd expect most ponies, including some of the Manes, to be this timid, squeamish, and easily frightened. I can see Celestia panic on the very first night when she wakes up punch-drunk with a snapped horn and broken wing next to tentacle-faced bloodsuckers. But after that...I mean, she's a thousand year old diplomat who also might be one of the only ponies alive who personally remembers things getting this ugly.
On top of that, I strongly suspect most ponies, and definitely any of the alicorns, would be smart enough to not look down the barrel of a gun. Even if they may have never seen a handheld firearm before, it still looks and acts a hell of a lot like a cannon, and they're going to know plenty of reasons you don't go pointing those at your face.
Get the tf2 quotes out of here
So this guy is a walking meet the team video.... I love it