"Ya vynen piti. Vsi, koho ya znayu pomer. Ya boyusya za nay?hirshe, tomu shcho vsi nadii? vtracheno. Nadiya pomerla."

The wind blew hard. I could feel it coming through the cracks of the metal wall, and even through my clothing. I was getting cold. I was getting scared. Outside, I heard the wild howling of bandits as they hunted for prey. They were lost, young souls without mothers or fathers. They had nowhere else to go. So they turned to this.
It was a miracle they hadn't found me and Ivan yet. But I had a feeling they were getting closer and closer. Ivan slowly crawled over to the small opening in the wall that was covered with a large strip of burlap. He pulled it back, just a little bit, and peeked out. The bandits were going mad, going through every abandoned home and tearing everything from its hinges. They took pots and pans and threw them outside. Empty bottles, empty cans, old ceramic plates, anything that would make alot of noise, they took and threw on the ground.
They destroyed the house they were in and tore through the walls, then came scrambling out. A few leaves crunched a few feet away and caught their attention. "Prodovol?cha!", they yelled with excitement. They searched the side of the house thoroughly and found what they were looking for. They dragged out a woman with a full-face respirator and military gear. They had a tight grip on her hair and were pulling off her respirator. Once it was off, the bandit holding her hair tossed it on the ground and shoved her face in the dirt. I recognized her face.

"U nykh ye Dar'ya!" I told to Ivan. I loaded my gun and got ready to go save Dariya, but Ivan held me back.

"Ne udar Tse dlya nas obokh. Ye bil?sh bandytiv tam, I vy Tse Znayete." Ivan insisted. He was right, I couldn't just go out there.

I looked back out and Dariya was choking on the dusty air outside. She was going to die if she didn't get that respirator back on, but I couldn't run out there guns blazing. I started thinking on how to make a distraction. I turned around and quickly searched the small space we were in. I found what I was looking for under my bag, a small pipebomb I learned how to make in Kiev. I got my lighter out of my front jacket pocket and lit the fuse to the pipebomb. I climbed onto a crate that was next to the small broken window near the ceiling. I threw the pipebomb through it and jumped off the crate.
The bandits outside were distracted before the bomb even exploded, and they went closer to it, leaving Dariya alone. I opened the small hidden crawlspace near the opening in the wall and got Dariya's attention. She put on her respirator just as the pipebomb exploded about 10 meters away. She then crawled towards the hut me and Ivan were in and then through the open space. Once she was in, I closed it tight. Me, Ivan, and Dariya waited hours until the injured bandits took off before the wild boars came at dawn.

"Chomu vy zavzhdy zrobyty rechi vazhko, Daryna?" I said, exhausted.

____________

That's all right now, I'm tired so I'll continue this tomorrow. If anyone must know, the language here is Ukrainian, and unfortunately I'm not going to put it in English because it just makes it seem more natural(the setting is northeast Ukraine). Though I may have parts where they must speak in English. I think that those of you who don't understand Ukrainian will still understand the situation.
Feedback would be nice in the meantime.

Interesting. Using Ukrainian for the dialogues it's a nice idea, makes it more interesting.

I like the fact you explain what is said after the fact, because unfortunately i don't know Ukraine. I knew a golden glove boxer, fellow marine, that's as close to it as I got.

It was funny how at first i got every thing thinking it was russian when it was quite a suprise to find it being Ukraine.

Ukrainian and Russian are very similar. Though since I grew up in a Russian family, my Russian is by far better.


What about a golden glove boxer? :confused: If you mean the translation, well, it's either because my Ukrainian is a tad bit sloppy or because you translated it wrong/used Google translate. If it has nothing to do with the translation.. I have no idea what you are talking about. Anyway, I think I'll continue from where I left off now. AND, if anyone is wondering.. The main character is named Sasha. Dariya = Sasha's sister, Ivan = Sasha's friend.
__________

The sun was up now, and it was safe to travel. I packed my bag with magazine clips I left laying around and a few gasmask filters I had at the ready. I pulled the bag over my shoulders and looked to Ivan and Dariya. Dariya didn't look well, she was coughing alot and constantly pulling up her respirator to spit out what she coughed up. I thought it was a bit repulsive, but she needed some medical attention. I was no doctor so I had no idea what exactly was wrong, but I was sure that it was the dirty air she was breathing.
Ivan was tightening the filter on his IP-4 gasmask and popped up his jacket collar. Ivan always seemed to do things better than I did. He was older than me, more mature than me, and far better in combat than me. He was the leader of our group and made the best decisions.

"De znakhodyt·sya nay?blyzhchoyu likar?" I asked.
"Chernihiv," Ivan said, loading his rifle. "Mova Y?de pro desyat? myl? na zakhid."
"Desyat? myl?? Chy budemo my v zmozi Zrobyty Tse tam do nochi?" I asked.
"Mozhe buti," Ivan had finished loading his rifle and threw it over his shoulder while standing up. "Mi povinni vidiy?ti v ofitsiy?nykh zasidan? hodynu."

I nodded and went over to Dariya, still struggling to get herself together. I helped her up and assured her that she would be okay. Ten miles west was a doctor in Chernihiv, and we planned to get there by nightfall. I followed Ivan through the crawlspace in the wall and waited for Dariya to come following. She came out brushing leaves off of her hair and clothes with a 9mm in hand. I turned away to look at how the village had survived the night, and as it turned out, it really didn't. The bandits burned down two houses, hung three people in the center of the village, there were two dead bandits, and one of the houses was almost completely destroyed from the pipebomb that exploded.
Ivan ignored the scenery and began trodging off into the woods. I pulled up my GP-5 gasmask briefly to wipe sweat off of my face, then pulled it back down. I gripped the rifle in my hands tightly and ran off towards Ivan. I wanted to ask if Ivan knew where he was going but I didn't want him to get angry with me, so I kept my mouth shut. I called Dariya to come into the middle of the group, in between me and Ivan. I worried that we would lose her. She took traveling lightly, as if nothing were out in these woods.
I watched the ground as I walked and in the dark dirt and dead grass, there was a brightly colored flower. I stopped and knelt down, studying it. The petals were bright blue and the stem was a deep green. I'd never seen anything like it before and had only heard of flowers in books and stories. I carefully picked it from the ground and tucked it into my front jacket pocket. I turned to the others. They were both getting well ahead of me and didn't even notice it. I quickly got up and jogged back to them. Before I could tell anyone what I had found, we all heard loud screeching.
Ghouls? Possibly. Or maybe it was something worse. Maybe hunters were nearby. Whatever it was, we all were on edge. We stopped moving and awaited Ivan's orders. Ivan was listening for something, leaves crunching, twigs snapping, whispers. Anything that would give him a clue. Ivan waved his hand forward and started running. I looked at Dariya and shrugged, then also ran, following Ivan. He was on to something but he wasn't telling us anything.

While in the service i met a marine who use to be a golden glove boxer. He is ukranian and his name is Kompanyetz,its close to that atleast, i havent talked to him in over a year so spellin is probably off.

Nice addition.

Oh, now I know what you meant in that post. Thanks for the comment. I feel like it takes me too long to write out that short of an update. I guess I'll update again in a bit.

So great to see you again Pariah, I . . . don't quite know to react to your appearance. I always think about my first RP, Lost Contact. Wish you best of luck with this fan-fic, I'll read when I'm more free.

Hello, and welcome back Pariah for another heart pounding adventure. Here was my biggest problem.



Yeah, it is more natural, but not practical. You should never forfeit immersion and character development for "realism" or "naturalism". Dialogue is a great place to show your characters personalities, traits, etc...We won't be able to see that if it's in a different language. If your going for some realism and still have the character development, then sprinkle Ukrainian words in the dialogue. Like having the sentence...

"I love you my darling,"

And change darling into an Ukrainian substitute. Otherwise your missing out on some great character development. Every book I read that situates in a different country/language uses it like that. Words, not sentences.

Course, tis your story. Do what you wish. I'll still read, but thought I would just offer some of my advice.

Still, good story...though it doesn't seem to have as much as a fallout feel to it? Maybe it's just me.


Keep it up.

That was your first RP? Lost Contact was good and had alot of potential, unfortunately nobody ever checked in to add posts. I would join an RP but they're the same ones as when I left: The Warren and the Manhattan one. They're well into their stories and there is no way I could read through all the topics/posts. I'm not going to make one because I'm dry on ideas.


I have never done it before and it's a bit of a challenge for me, so it's good on my part, but if I must then I'll start using English as soon as it works in the story. And I didn't think it had as much of a Fallout feel to it either but all the Fallout games have been in America. This is how I would picture Fallout in Ukraine. Plus I got alot of influence from the STALKER games, but I'm trying to stay as far away from it as possible while using slight references.

I never said you must, the decision is yours, though you will be missing out on some great character development...

Understood, never played the S.T.A.K.L.E.R franchise myself, but I've seen images...Anyway good luck.

Mines will be kicking off in a week or two, maybe sooner. First I have to make the official sign-up, then I'll start it.

I've kind of decided already that I will include alot of English in the story while still using Ukrainian. There will be a reason for it.

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As we were running, the screeching and howling grew louder and seemed as if it were getting closer. I was getting tired quickly and I was falling behind. Before I could force myself to go faster, something tackled me from the side. I turned over to see what it was. It was a ghoul, and it was wearing a torn-up military uniform and a double-filter gasmask with busted lenses. I punched it in the head and tried to push it off, but it retaliated quickly and swiped towards my face. I pulled my arms up to block my face, but got a painful scratch across the forearms. I pulled my arm back and sent a forceful punch into the gut of the ghoul, which sent it into pain. I punched the ghoul twice more in the gut and then in the temples, then pushed it off of me with all my force.
Once it was off, I kicked the ghoul in the skull repeatedly with much force, hearing a sickening crunch after every impact. It was dead but it wasn't the only one. I turned to see several other ghouls sprinting towards me. I grabbed my rifle on my back and pulled it forward. I killed one of the ghouls, and then another. It didn't look like much at first, but there were more further back that I hadn't seen before. I walked backwards slowly then turned and ran the opposite direction. Where the hell was Ivan and Dariya? I stopped thinking and kept running. They were in the direction I was going in was the direction they had been going in, but I still didn't see them. My legs were getting tired again, so I stopped and quickly looked back. No ghouls following me anymore. Looked forward, still nothing.

"Ivan!" I shouted.

I bent over with my hands on my knees, catching my breath. A hand came onto my shoulder and I spun around almost instantly. It was Ivan. Where did he come from? I had no idea, but neither of us said anything. I shook my head and waited for Ivan to walk ahead of me, and as usual, I followed him.

"Gde ty byl?" I asked with slight anger.
"My shli v tom zhe napravlenii my shli dyui?ma. Ya slyshal, kak ty proiznosish? moe imya, poetomu ya zdes?." Ivan replied. "Shcho trapom?"
"Nishcho. Nichoho ne stalo."

--

The sun was dropping but we were very close to Chernihiv. The town was in sight and we were out of the forest. We were walking across a large open field with tall grass. Ivan insisted that we start running because wolves would be out to hunt soon. So, we ran across the field. The town lit up the area it was in, there were torches lit around the settlement and many campfires were up inside. We were yards away when town guards stopped us. They approached us with assault rifles, thinking we were bandits of some sort. After checking us, they let us pass. We walked through the town gate and I scanned the town for a clinic. Whilst looking, I noticed that nobody was wearing a gasmask. The air was clean? I pulled off my gasmask and put it into my backpack. Ivan was about to tell me something, but saw what I had seen. He removed his gasmask as well, with Dariya following along.
The air felt refreshing to breathe. I took long, deep breaths, then returned to looking for a clinic. I saw a building with a red cross painted crudely on the door.

"Hey? Daryna!" I said, turning to Dariya. I pointed at the building. I started walking towards it and she followed. While walking, I examined the town around me. The people who walked past me seemed hungry and tired, while others looked angry and a bit bloodthirsty. This was a place where poor people, drunks, and retired bandits lived. I opened the door of the building and saw beds with people laying on them, medical cabinets, and a desk with a man sitting at it, writing on paper.